Age of the Fallen Hero

The big news in the sporting world this week?  Championship Sunday in the NFL?  (No, not the Super Bowl, that's Feb. 3 - this week is the conference championships to see which teams will play in the Super Bowl).  Nope - not Championship Sunday.  How about the long awaited start to the NHL season?  Nope, not that either.

No, the big news is of course the admission by Lance Armstrong to years of doping.  Another year and yet another fallen hero.  The shame of it all is that Lance Armstrong truly had a remarkable story worth celebrating.  The guy sticks it to cancer then goes on to compete in the Tour de France.  That is amazing.  In retrospect, that in itself is an inspiring story.  That wasn't enough for Lance though...and maybe not enough for our insatiable appetite for heroes.  It wasn't enough to survive and thrive...he had to dominate...to be the best by far, by any means necessary.  Would we have bought into his story if he had not?

We throw around the term "hero" and "role model" far too easily these days.  It's like the standing ovation...we are far too ready to stand up and laud any ol' performance so much so that the truly great and remarkable performances are devalued. 

We're so wanting to believe in the impossible...believe in something that transcends the everyday monotony of our daily existence that we latch onto people who seem larger than life and make them even larger.   We fabricate a whole persona that trumps even their accomplishments.  We no longer think of so and so as just a great athlete, actor or whatever...now we want them to be great people worthy of being called a hero and role model.

We treat the terms "here," "role model" and "celebrity" as synonymous  when really they're quite distinct.  To be sure they're not mutually exclusive, but neither are they automatically inclusive.  Take Babe Ruth for example.  He was a great ball player and no doubt many wished they (or their sons) could grow-up to become as good a player as the Bambino.  However I don't think there were too many moms hoping their sons would emulate his off-the-field lifestyle.  Conversely Tim Tebow is by all accounts a great role model but not an outstanding professional QB (at least not yet).

Lance Armstrong transcended cycling and became a hero to many and a man beyond reproach.  The problem is that just because someone is a great cyclist or can throw the pig-skin better than most, doesn't automatically make them a great person.  Moreover, even though we may know what a celebrity eats for breakfast or what type of undies they wear, doesn't mean we know them at all.  And that is problematic when we bestow upon them title of "hero."  Since we heap all of these expectations on these stars without truly knowing their character, I fear we set them up for a fall (which we often weirdly relish) and ourselves and our kids are set-up for disappointment. 

We've outsourced our heroism like many other familial duties to the public sphere when what is needed is for us to shape up and do a better job in our homes of being the type of men and women that our children can look up to.  Rather than proclaiming someone a hero and role model because of something they can do, our kids should look up to us because of the type of people we are.  Integrity, honesty, courage and perseverance...these are the makings of a hero.  If we were more deliberate in building our own legacies instead of living vicariously through our stars, then we could reclaim our rightful place as role models in our families and communities.  That way athletes and stars could be athletes and stars and the term "hero" could be reserved for those who truly deserve it.