Five Minute Frags
Five Minutes With Frag - Footsteps


With every step we take, we leave our mark on history. Each footprint changes the fabric of everything around it, and trickles down like an uncontrollable set of dominoes, with everyone and everything crashing into each other, pushing each other further and further out of whack.

Thoughts like these have been weighing heavily upon me over the last few days.

With each passing day, there’s been one revelation after another that casts a further shadow over our generation and the future of the games we love. From scandals, to failed drug tests, to general misbehavior not befitting of a role model, our generation is leaving its footprint on the world of sports, and its crushing everything that has come before it.

How is it that generations have come and gone in sports, some even surviving being torn apart by war, but ours seems to be the only one that has the chance of killing them off completely? Fans are growing more and more disenchanted with each action, feeling more and more like their heroes no longer are living up to their stature, but rather overlooking those that granted it to them in the first place. Do they not have responsibility to the fans to behave in a way that will encourage and inspire others?

Then again, maybe I’m making more of this than needs to be said. Maybe our disenchantment shouldn’t be with the players themselves. Maybe the players of every generation has behaved in the way that those in ours have, but given our constant need for instant information, the media feels the need to expound every little detail of these athletes lives in hopes of breaking the next big story. Maybe we’re to blame for having unreal expectations of these people, maybe we expect so much of them and the super powers we’ve elevated them to, that we forget that they are in fact human beings as well, just as liable to make mistakes as they are to reach great heights. We all loved hearing about how Superman saved the world, maybe we just forgot about the damage he caused in the process.

When I was a boy, I remembered collecting cards with the dream that I would one day hit like Don Mattingly, or run the bases like Rickey Henderson. I wasn’t privy to the information that Wade Boggs was an adulterer or that Rickey was a clubhouse cancer. Maybe in our desire to have everything in print or on the air right here and right now, we’ve forgotten that feeling we had during the innocence of our youths, when the game was a game, and our heroes were still heroes.

And that’s five minutes with Frag!
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