The Culture Of Cheating

Happy New Year... plus a couple days! A lot has happened in the sports world since HerSportsPOV went on hiatus, but perhaps nothing has generated as much commentary as Roger Clemens’ buttocks. Okay, maybe that’s an overstatement, but the dark cloud of steroids has invaded household dialogues like never before. When we can rattle off the names of substances like HGH, Anadrol, and Winstrol as if we’re reciting our ABC’s, then we know we’re in uncharted territory.

But aside from the obvious issues associated with steroids, I think the biggest problem we have to face is the culture of cheating. There is a large segment of society that will do anything, and I do mean anything, to get ahead. The American Dream was built on the belief that you can do anything you set your mind to, but somewhere along the way, that idea morphed into doing anything legal and illegal to get a leg up. On some level, I can see why people do it, but I really can’t fathom living with the knowledge that I cheated to get ahead. There’s nothing sweeter than victory and nothing more bitter than that nagging voice in the back of your mind that says you didn’t play by the rules.

I recently joined a dodgeball league, a.k.a. organized adult exercise, and wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I’m known for being competitive, but didn’t really see myself spewing venom at my opponents across the line in a grammar school gymnasium. My friend warned me though, saying, “You’re going to get worked up,” but I didn’t really think it would be true. I get fired up when it comes to my own sports… volleyball and softball… but kickball, bocce, dodgeball, and any other league I’ve joined to avoid working out in the gym, nah... I’m just there to have fun.

But then it happened. I felt my blood pressure spike. My face reddened. My arms started flailing, and my voice hit that decibel reserved for only the most world-shaking of events (like finding two dead mice in my kitchen or getting top-notch seats to a Kelly Clarkson concert). I yelled, “I got him! He's out!” I had beaned the Neanderthal across the line with the tiny yellow Nerfball. It hit him squarely in the shin. He knew it. I knew it. He looked at me. I looked at him. He looked left, right, at me, left again, and kept his Reeboks planted exactly where they were. Unwilling to admit that he had been nailed by a girl and thinking that his services were too vital to leave his teammates dodging Nerfballs alone, he made the conscious decision to cheat.

I was pissed, and my friend knew it. This is what she was talking about. But my ire had nothing to do with being competitive and everything to do with the fact that this guy wasn’t playing fairly. What did he have to gain by cheating? Bragging rights in front of the watercooler the next morning about how his dodgeball team beat up on some other equally old and equally out of shape adults? Please sign me up for a date with that stud.

No matter what the situation is and no matter how high the stakes are, I’d rather play the worst game of my life than win it all knowing that I cheated, but I guess not everyone is like that. For some, the taste of glory is too addictive to be bothered by matters of conscience and decency.

I'll acknowledge that athletes who take steroids all have their reasons for doing so, and many of those reasons may fall into the gray area between right and wrong. Do I think Andy Pettitte was wrong to use HGH? Yes. Can I fault him for wanting to heal faster and get back to the game he loves? Not entirely. What about the kid in Latin America who unwittingly believes some pusher who tells him he'll be bigger, better, and find himself inking a contract for millions of dollars that he'll be able to send back home to provide for his family? Is it wrong? Yes and no. All that said, cheating cannot exist on a spectrum where the blame slides depending on the situation. It's unfortunate that these players will get lumped up with the likes of Barry Bonds who is a glory hog and a thief who stole the most sacred of records, but they all chose unnatural means to get ahead while the guy three lockers down was packing his bags for Pawtucket or Durham.

Our culture has accepted cheating because Americans are gluttonous consumers who want larger and faster, greater and richer, and though there are major efforts to eradicate this blight on baseball and other sports, the culture that condones the cheating will never be wiped out completely.

There will always be those who choose the greater of two evils to stay in the game, who will risk getting caught, who will chance the label of cheater for one shot at the glory. But we also know that glory soon fades and when that happens, those people will be left to lie alone at night with only that little voice in their heads reminding them that they didn’t really earn what they achieved and that they’ll never know what they really could have done if they hadn’t cheated themselves.

Sleep well, Barry... Roger... Rafael... Mo... Miguel... Eric... Brian... Lenny...