The accusations are piling up against Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger, but the claim that he sexually assaulted a college student in Georgia might not be as hard to defend as the attacks on his integrity.
Since the nightclub incident became public, talk-radio phones have been ringing off the hook. Die-hard black and gold supporters are chomping at the bit to call out their disgraced quarterback.
Allegations flooded the airwaves on KDKA, a Pittsburgh area radio station: “Ben left me a small tip… Ben demanded a free meal… Ben talked down to me... Ben refused to give an autograph….”
The same Pittsburghers who once adored him, buying up his jersey in every color (black, white, and pink), are now eager to take the witness stand to provide key testimony in the court of public opinion.
At least in the sexual assault case Roethlisberger can stand behind high-powered lawyers and the “innocent until proven guilty” refrain. Additionally, no charges have been filed as of Friday. The people don’t wait for a plea to find him guilty on several counts: narcissism, immaturity, selfishness, hypocrisy, and fistful of expletives you can’t say on the radio.
Ben unknowingly entered his plea. Callers relayed that in each case Roethlisberger looked for preferential treatment saying, “Don’t you know who I am?”
Perhaps that’s the biggest problem in Pittsburgh. Roethlisberger has shown the public two conflicting versions of who “Ben Roethlisberger” is—the public Ben and the unfiltered personal Ben.
In the spotlight, Roethlisberger paints himself as a different breed of athlete, a gentleman with a team first attitude. He signs autographs at training camp long after the others have retreated to the locker room, kissing babies and shaking hands like a politician.
One the other hand he signs them only the way he wants to— only on his own jersey, his own picture, or a football. A kid’s notebook, a Steelers roster, or even the sacred terrible town aren’t worthy of Big Ben’s John Hancock.
He scribbles PFJ (play for Jesus) on his cleats and points to the heavens after each touchdown pass.
The sexual assault allegations—even if he’s innocent and the acts were consensual—show that Ben has done some things that Jesus would certainly not do. And that’s putting it mildly.
He appears at public fundraisers and generously donated a police dog to the Cleveland’s canine unit.
One of the KDKA calls was from a topless dancer who claimed that Roethlisberger refused to tip her. Several waitresses also claimed to have been stiffed by Ben (Not like that you pervert.)
As the years have worn on Ben’s act has worn out. The personal Ben, the brash and egotistical one, has come to the public’s attention. The guy that seemed to be doing all the right things—signing autographs and giving credit to the linemen—seemed to be doing it for all the wrong reasons.
The claims only continue to build against Roethlisberger. And maybe time is running out for Big Ben in Pittsburgh.
It’s going to take one of Big Ben’s legendary last minute comebacks if he hopes to save face in Pittsburgh.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Miller Time: Bode's Olympic Redemption
US skiing maverick Bode Miller finished his final run in Vancouver in much the same way as he did the 2006 Olympics, throwing his hands up in defeat after missing a gate. His overall Olympic performance; however, couldn’t be more different than in Torino.
Back in 2006, Miller was supposed to be America’s golden boy. He arrived at the games brandishing two silver medals from the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics and was the defending world champion. Miller’s face and the expectations were equally well known thanks to ubiquitous advertising campaigns and magazine covers. "Five medals, preferably all gold," Uncle Sam demanded like the over-involved Little League parent.
Instead, the 28-year-old Bode responded like a rebellious boy. He skied five uninspired races and came up empty in each one. By the end of the games it became a joke-- how will Bode screw this one up?
Americans scratched their heads and pointed their fingers, sometimes not the index, at what was supposed to be a national icon. Reports suggested that alcohol contributed to his apathetic alpine performance. He spotted in bars nights before races and admitted himself in a highly publicized 60 Minutes interview that his escapades had sometimes interfered with competition.
Bob Costas summed up American's reactions pretty concisely.
Bode Miller was like Bob Dylan on skies. Like the musician he refused to be the poster boy, preferring to be the party boy instead. He blew off the media, hopping the out of bounds ropes and skiing alone to his RV to avoid the swarms of rabid reporters. Worst of all he said he didn’t care about success or winning medals. Such a treasonous comment made him unworthy to wear the stars and stripes that he was supposed to be representing.
And he showed no remorse. Bode would ski the way Bode wanted to ski.
“Part of me didn't even want to go to the Olympics in '06. Part of me wanted to go because I knew the possibilities of going,” Bode wrote in his Universal Sports blog. “But part of me didn't want to because I didn't like where the whole thing was pointed. I didn't like being the poster boy and I didn't like a lot of the stuff that was surrounding it.”
Picking up the pieces-- and the beer cans they tossed at their TV set-- Americans asked, “Should we blame ourselves.” Maybe we had unrealistic expectations for the young star, as parents living vicariously through children sometimes do. Perhaps all those flash bulbs and spotlights burnt out budding Bode.
By the conclusion of the 2006 games, the Olympic torch was extinguished, and the general consensus was so too had Miller’s fame and Olympic potential.
Four years later in Vancouver, the hype and hope rested on another American skier, Lindsey Vonn, and her ailing appendage. Miller’s appearance on the hill was expected to be nothing more than unpleasant reminder of what could have been four years earlier.
Post Torino, Miller a modicum of success (2008 World Cup overall title), but more disappointment. In the 2009 season leading up to the Olympics, Miller had the worst season of his career. Add to that a couple injuries and a knee surgery, and Miller was expected to hang it up once and for all.
Sports fan know by now what happens when they expect something from Miller. Four years older, a little wiser, and hopefully more responsible with a two-year-old daughter at home, Bode returned to his prime. True to his unpredictable nature, the maverick Miller emerged to capture three medals, tying him for a U.S. record among Alpine skiers: silver in the Super- G, bronze in the Downhill, and Olympic gold in the Combined.
In doing so Miller rekindled the Olympic spirit and renewed the nation’s love affair with its misunderstood star. “The energy I felt during that race,” Miller wrote in his Universal Sports blog, “that's what the Olympics are about.”
So let confetti flow, holler in the streets, slaughter the fatted calf. The prodigal son has returned and it’s time to celebrate.
Congrats old Bode. You’ve completed the transformation from goat to hero, and you stand atop the podium and in our hearts as a decorated American Olympian.
Go ahead and have a beer. You deserve it.
Back in 2006, Miller was supposed to be America’s golden boy. He arrived at the games brandishing two silver medals from the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics and was the defending world champion. Miller’s face and the expectations were equally well known thanks to ubiquitous advertising campaigns and magazine covers. "Five medals, preferably all gold," Uncle Sam demanded like the over-involved Little League parent.
Instead, the 28-year-old Bode responded like a rebellious boy. He skied five uninspired races and came up empty in each one. By the end of the games it became a joke-- how will Bode screw this one up?
Americans scratched their heads and pointed their fingers, sometimes not the index, at what was supposed to be a national icon. Reports suggested that alcohol contributed to his apathetic alpine performance. He spotted in bars nights before races and admitted himself in a highly publicized 60 Minutes interview that his escapades had sometimes interfered with competition.
Bob Costas summed up American's reactions pretty concisely.
Bode Miller was like Bob Dylan on skies. Like the musician he refused to be the poster boy, preferring to be the party boy instead. He blew off the media, hopping the out of bounds ropes and skiing alone to his RV to avoid the swarms of rabid reporters. Worst of all he said he didn’t care about success or winning medals. Such a treasonous comment made him unworthy to wear the stars and stripes that he was supposed to be representing.
And he showed no remorse. Bode would ski the way Bode wanted to ski.
“Part of me didn't even want to go to the Olympics in '06. Part of me wanted to go because I knew the possibilities of going,” Bode wrote in his Universal Sports blog. “But part of me didn't want to because I didn't like where the whole thing was pointed. I didn't like being the poster boy and I didn't like a lot of the stuff that was surrounding it.”
Picking up the pieces-- and the beer cans they tossed at their TV set-- Americans asked, “Should we blame ourselves.” Maybe we had unrealistic expectations for the young star, as parents living vicariously through children sometimes do. Perhaps all those flash bulbs and spotlights burnt out budding Bode.
By the conclusion of the 2006 games, the Olympic torch was extinguished, and the general consensus was so too had Miller’s fame and Olympic potential.
Four years later in Vancouver, the hype and hope rested on another American skier, Lindsey Vonn, and her ailing appendage. Miller’s appearance on the hill was expected to be nothing more than unpleasant reminder of what could have been four years earlier.
Post Torino, Miller a modicum of success (2008 World Cup overall title), but more disappointment. In the 2009 season leading up to the Olympics, Miller had the worst season of his career. Add to that a couple injuries and a knee surgery, and Miller was expected to hang it up once and for all.
Sports fan know by now what happens when they expect something from Miller. Four years older, a little wiser, and hopefully more responsible with a two-year-old daughter at home, Bode returned to his prime. True to his unpredictable nature, the maverick Miller emerged to capture three medals, tying him for a U.S. record among Alpine skiers: silver in the Super- G, bronze in the Downhill, and Olympic gold in the Combined.
In doing so Miller rekindled the Olympic spirit and renewed the nation’s love affair with its misunderstood star. “The energy I felt during that race,” Miller wrote in his Universal Sports blog, “that's what the Olympics are about.”
So let confetti flow, holler in the streets, slaughter the fatted calf. The prodigal son has returned and it’s time to celebrate.
Congrats old Bode. You’ve completed the transformation from goat to hero, and you stand atop the podium and in our hearts as a decorated American Olympian.
Go ahead and have a beer. You deserve it.
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