Sport has become transactional.
As a boy, I followed my heroes in Chicago.
I knew Ernie Banks and Gale Sayers would be in my town for their careers, unless they were traded.
Bobby Hull of the Blackhawks broke the mold when he signed with the upstart World Hockey Association. This was unheard of, and I was shocked and saddened. The “Golden Jet” would no longer blast the puck in the old and rickety Chicago Stadium as the raucous fans would roar in approval.
Now players change uniforms and organizations like they change their socks. And unfortunately, teams show no loyalty either.
Baseball players now sign contracts with one- and two-year escape clauses, virtually ensuring they will enter free agency the following year.
College football is certainly broken. Coaches now leave their teams in the middle of chasing a national championship. I am not sure how the Lane Kiffin’s of the world explain this to their respective teams, or sleep for that matter.
In his case, there are probably 82 million reasons for abandoning the Ole Miss student athletes who worked so hard to get into this position.
But I still tune in every day, and try to recapture the feelings about sports that I had in my youth.
But the cynicism has dampened my enthusiasm.
