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Sports Hall of Asterisks
Where bad jocks can go to face posterity
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Talk about shovel ready, here is a project that can't fail to stimulate the local economy, create jobs and bring a flow of tourist dollars to our community.
It is time to build an alternate hall of fame for athletes whose abuse of controlled substances or whose behavior off the field has attached asterisks to their achievements or caused them to be banned from their sport's official hall.
Think about it. Create an Asterisk Hall for all Sports and locate it on the North Shore. The first class of inductees would (allegedly) read like a Who's Who of bad jocks. From our national pastime alone could come a long list of failed immortals, including Roger Clemens, Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro, Sammy Sosa, Alex Rodriguez and yes, the mayor of Dodgertown himself, Manny Ramirez, whose recent 50 game suspension is responsible for this recession-buster of a brainchild. And don't forget erstwhile outfielder Timmy Raines, fourth on the all-time base stealing list, who once explained to investigators he only slid head first so as not to dump the crack cocaine he kept in the pockets of his uniform pants while playing for the Montreal Expos.
From the world of track and field, one could easily enshrine sprinters Ben Johnson, Justin Gatlin and Marion Jones — all tested positive. Jones allegedly kited checks as well.
The Asterisk Hall would be just the place to memorialize road cyclist Tyler Hamilton, who announced his retirement from the sport last month after testing positive for a prohibited substance and facing a lifelong ban. Hamilton has a gold medal from the 2004 Olympics, where he also tested positive for doping but was allowed to keep his Olympic swag due to a snafu with a backup blood sample.
While the sport of cycling has no shortage of dopers to round out a peloton of pedalers for a hall of shame, another American — Antonio Pettigrew — could join Hamilton in a featured exhibit. Pettigrew, a member of the U.S. 1,600-meter relay team, was tossed from the 2000 Sydney Olympics for using illegal performance-enhancing substances. Pettigrew's gold medal, however, should not be expected to go on display in the hall — the cheating cyclist was forced to give it back when he got busted. Doh!
A firearms wing in the hall could feature the likes of ex-Dallas Cowboy Pacman Jones, who was involved in a shooting in a Las Vegas strip club that left one man paralyzed; retired New Jersey Net Jason Williams, who accidentally shot and killed his chauffeur; ex-New York Giant Plaxico Burress, who accidentally shot himself and wounded his pride; and North Korean marksman Kim Jong Su, who lost his medals and was kicked out of the '08 Olympics due to doping.
A cruelty to animals suite could boast quarterback Michael Vick, while an adjoining cruelty to humans exhibit would likely prove more crowded, enshrining, among other nefarious notables, Iron Mike Tyson and figure skater Tonya Harding.
On the broadcast side, you could go with Marv Albert, because it would be a shame to condemn his peculiar peccadillos to the amnesia of corporate rehabilitation. As for gambling, you can bet a Pete Rose exhibit would draw big crowds of Charlie Hustle fans.
Then there should be an alcove for a certain pair of French figure skating judges. And He Kexin of China, the teenaged gold medal gymnast at the Beijing Games, who was reportedly two years shy of minimum age for Olympic competition, could be included — for cheating — as soon as she's old enough to be inducted, that is.
Because such an alternative hall of fame by its very nature would be a more populist mecca than the official temples in Cooperstown, Canton and elsewhere, its creators (call me, we will form an LLC) could include a "fans behaving badly" wing to highlight, among others, the kids who reach into the field of play to catch baseballs otherwise destined to be game-changing homers; the Neanderthals who beat the allegiance out of visiting fans who dare root too loud or long against the home team; garden variety soccer hooligans; and ticket scalpers like the New York Yankees front office.
Let's face it, there will never be a shortage of asterisks. Besides the bad apples who inevitably slouch toward shame, good guys tumble from their pinnacles every day — all it takes is one hardworking call girl, one hair trigger, one hormone script or one hare-brained scheme to wrest glory from someone more deserving, a plan usually hatched in the hubris of monomania and executed with the finesse of a foundering water buffalo.
So what are we waiting for? Build it here before somebody in Jersey steals my idea.
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