A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

Hero or the Goat

There won't be much in the way of new information about the whole Kobe Bryant sexual assault imbroglio until August 6, which hasn't prevented everyone from bloviating about it ad nauseum anyway. If it gets to trial, I'm sure we'll be treated to exhaustive coverage and metric tons of mud flung by both sides. The first salvos have actually already been fired, with reports leaking to the media about the accuser's allegedly unstable past and friends of hers speaking of "visible evidence" of a physical assault. All we really know at this point, by Bryant's own admission, is that he and the alleged victim did have sexual intercourse.

Predictably, people have already started forming up into opposing factions over the case. One of those in the "not guilty" camp that I've come across on the web is FreeKobe.com, which is making a pretty naked grab for notoriety with pro-Kobe t-shirts and buttons. What actually grabbed my attention about the site (aside from its largely illiterate, bile-spewing forum that is) was its tagline: "Because We're Running Out of Heroes."

Even a non-basketball fan like myself knows Kobe Bryant is regarded as one of the best players out there today, but a "hero?" Sure, one could make the argument that, up until a few weeks ago, he was a "role model." By most media definitions he's also a "star" and a "celebrity," but a hero? Just how loose have our standards regarding that term gotten?

I'm of the opinion we should exercise a fair amount restraint when applying the H-word to celebrity figures (unless they do something heroic, of course). The original definition might have been pretty narrowly applicable to guys like Heracles and Theseus, but should somebody still have to act in an extraordinarily courageous manner to help others, preferably under life-threatening circumstances, to warrant the title?

It's understandable why people (especially youngsters) look up to athletes: they effortlessly perform amazing feats of physical prowess while the majority of their parents have difficulty reaching for the remote without pulling a hamstring. Many pro sports figures also devote time and money to charitable causes. Of course, professional athletes are paid better than your average 100 history teachers to be able to run a 4.4 40, and I know many "normal" people who volunteer and give to charity as well, should either group qualify as "heroes?" Perhaps the fact that young people admire you is sufficient. If so, I should let everyone know that I babysat a couple kids a while back who were highly impressed by my mastery of "Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3" on the PlayStation. When should I pick up my key to the city?

Here's where I see the spectrum on this: at one end there are those who want to create a more inclusive definition. This is your Emersonian camp ("Each man is a hero and oracle to somebody"), where people like athletes, and also teachers and parents, are heroes to others by virtue of the inspirational effect of their actions.

At the other end are those who adhere to a stricter Classicist definition, where only the bravest and most selfless individuals are given the label. And how pathetic is it that I can't think of an offhand example (except maybe Audie Murphy) for someone like that?

Obviously given this range, you can argue for just about anyone's inclusion in the "hero" category.

There are, of course, exceptions:

For example, merely enlisting in the armed forces does not make you a hero, never mind what the 700 Club says. It certainly does increase your chances, however (even a supply clerk at Ft. Dix is expected to take up arms against the Hun if needed). Similarly, if you happen to be part of a wayward supply convoy and you get captured, then rescued by Special Forces, you're one tough kid, and you've been through a hell of an ordeal, but I don't know that you qualify as a "hero."

And the Bronze Star is arguable, as well.

Also, surviving incredible physical adversity that resulted from your own poor planning does not make you a hero, Mr. Ralston. Maybe if you'd had a goddamn cell phone or signal mirror when you were out hiking you wouldn't have had to cut your arm off. And for future reference, it's a lot easier to cut through your elbow, using a blade that isn't a cheap Leatherman knockoff.

And on a local note, anyone who calls that phone number to fink on people who don't have an EZ-Tag for using the EZ-Tag lane on the toll road is not a hero. I wouldn't bring this up except the number, up on signs at the toll plazas here in Houston, is in fact 800-XXX-HERO, which is just sad.

Back to Kobe Bryant. Guilty or innocent, the shine is off. No one will look at him with the same bald-faced adoration they once did (except for those guys at FreeKobe.com, I guess), even if he beats the rap. And maybe that's a good thing. I mean, is the NBA really where you want to go looking for role models?

Finally, when Bryant says he's "a man just like everybody else," I'd like to be excused from whatever classification he's using. I've been married longer than he has, and somehow I've managed not to make "the mistake of adultery." And I'd be willing to bet a month of Jack Nicholson's palimony payments he wouldn't have fessed up to that much had all this happened in the days before DNA testing.