Wednesday, April 4, 2007

We Stumble and Fall More than We Walk

"I apologize to you all -- the children of America and South Africa -- who must cope every day with dangerous street gangs. I no longer participate in the so-called gangster lifestyle, and I deeply regret that I ever did.... I vow to spend the rest of my life working toward solutions."--Tookie Williams

When I was a kid I rarely missed an episode of the X-Men cartoon series. In hindsight, the premise of the show was fairly formulaic. Magneto stirs up some trouble. Wolverine is a loner. Gambit a quipster. X-Men come together and defeat Magneto. Week in and week out, this is how it worked. Then one week, they decided to throw the entire series on its head. I am a little fuzzy on the specific episode (and for some reaon I remember everybody being sent back in time and having to fight a T-Rex, but that could be way off), but the point is that Magneto and his rogues were forced to band together with Professor X's pupils for the betterment of all. It was a great moral, put petty differences aside for the good of all. But at the end of the episode, Professor X asked Magneto if this could become a recurring alliance. Magneto looked at him and said, "Times change, Charles, people don't."


Times change, people don't. I used to teach religion to a group of freshman, and when you think about it, such sentiment is the exact opposite message I tried to convey. Times change and so do people. That is why we have religion, it gives us hope, it dissolves despair. Even though we fall, we can always get up. The Prodigal Son. Dismus, St. Paul--all redemed themselves. All accepted the mercy of God. In the end wasn't that Judas' greatest sin? He refused to believe he could change.



Sports offers a strange twist on this. In baseball, redemption is only one at-bat away. A slump and derisive fans disappear with one hit. We, as fans, are unlike God, we condition our mercy. As long as talent is present, then we forgive, we forget. Leonard Little avoids jail as long as he gets ten sacks. There was always one more strike for Steve Howe, because there was always one more strike in his arm. I wonder sometimes if talent is the reason? Do we feel it would be a waste to take these "gladiators" away from the arena? Will they do more good, provide more for society exhibiting their talent?

Elijah Dukes has been arrested six times. He has been suspended from his team for drug use and a poor attitude. His hitting coach at Durham, a man whom Dukes lunged at said about him, ""He will snap in a minute. He couldn't keep his mouth quiet and his ears open. Tampa's given this kid how many mulligans?" But who are we to say how many mulligans? When is it too many chances? Is it ever?

Dukes hit his first major league home run in the season opener in Yankee Stadium this year. Redemption?



That's always why I feel strange watching action films. The bad guy always dies. Is there an underlying message? Are we to believe that death is the worst punishment? That God will judge much more harshly than we ever could? It seems the message is that people do not change. To leave this villain alive would to put us all in danger. His death saves us.

Many people doubted Tookie Williams changed. Many thought it was a show, a man grasping for straws in an attempt to save his life. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a man who knows about getting the bad guy, decided that clemency was inappropriate in Williams' case. Tookie was put to death. There was no room for redemption. That's not right.



There is something about watching Dukes and Cincinnatti Reds' Josh Hamilton, both who have come from dark pasts, rising above it and performing. Sure they both could relapse, but more importantly they were given the change to change. We all stumble, we all fall, albeit some harder than others, and it becomes a fine line to figure out or to decide what the final chance is because you always hope that one time Magneto looks Professor X in the eye and says, "You know what? I want to change."

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