A Love Affair Gone Bad

By Joseph Catena

Young New York Giants quarterback Jaxson Dart is apparently the latest pariah in the sports world. He didn’t abuse a woman. He didn’t drive drunk at 98 MPH in a school zone while school children were crossing. He didn’t have a lurid sex video while smoking crack with a prostitute that went viral. Heck, he didn’t even flip off a fan.

Dart had the audacity to proudly introduce President Donald J. Trump at a rally for New York Rep. Mike Lawler (R-17) as Republicans begin the offensive to win the mid-terms and hold the House of Representatives. What’s next for Dart? Might he actually say something about not allowing men to compete in women’s sports or that Israel should have a right to exist?

A vile individual he is!

The blowback that Dart received for his appearance is borderline absurd. He was openly criticized by his teammate, linebacker Abdul Carter, who right now is more bark than bite regarding his on-field play. Carter, not exactly a Rhodes scholar, failed to realize that Giant legends Lawrence Taylor and O.J. Anderson went to a MAGA rally and endorsed The Donald in 2024. The fact that Dart later had to address his teammates about his kind words for Trump is insulting. But the bigger fact that he stood his ground is refreshing. This entire episode is a microcosm of why I have come to despise professional sports after decades of an intense courtship.

My love affair with sports began somewhere around early spring in 1977. My Dad showed me the New York Yankees, got me a Wiffle bat, and bought me some baseball cards. Yankee catcher Thurman Munson became my hero, and I couldn’t get enough of the national pastime.

Later that year, in early fall, Dad and I were watching football, and I gained another hero and a new team; Roger Staubach and the Dallas Cowboys (“America’s Team”) respectively. Soon after, my cousin Frankie introduced me to the Minnesota Vikings and Fran Tarkenton. I liked their purple uniforms as much as the Cowboys’ blue star on the helmet. I also loved the fact that the Vikes played outdoors in cold weather. True Norsemen. So, I had two favorite NFL teams. Who cares?

Basketball and even hockey became part of my lexicon. I found Dr. J. mesmerizing and the Philadelphia 76ers became my NBA team. The New York Islanders were my hockey heroes – this was before their four consecutive Stanley Cups – all because my very first Sports Illustrated featured Brian Trottier on the cover. I became obsessed, collected numerous trading cards, and I was sure to become well-versed in sports history. This way, if I had to talk trash to my friends who liked opposing teams, I knew what to say. I read the sports section every day in The Star-Ledger and borrowed baseball and football encyclopedias (remember those?) from the library to memorize any and all possible statistics.  

But, like many things, this beautiful love affair I had for well over four decades, especially with baseball and football, ended in an ugly breakup. It wasn’t me who changed, it was sports. Narcissism, disloyalty, no respect for tradition, and the era of wokeness make me almost regret ever falling in love in the first place.

Colin Kaepernick’s National Anthem kneel and repeated proverbial middle finger to law enforcement back in September 2016, began the erosion. When Donald Trump won the presidency two months later, the erosion turned into rapid malignancy. Instead of being entertained by world-class athletes, fans had to endure a constant stage for spoiled rich IQ-challenged malcontents who insisted on using their athletic prowess as a political soapbox. The president became a litmus test, and any star athlete who supported him was ostracized.

I chose my country and my president over whiny jocks, and my breakup escalated.

I guess it’s OK for Lebron James to speak ill of President Trump and support child labor and Nike products since he makes a fortune from it. And let’s not forget the throngs of athletes who kissed the feet of Barack Obama, who regularly shared his NCAA Tournament bracket picks. Years ago, it was an honor for championship teams to visit the White House. Now, it’s a controversy, and not everyone shows up.

Watching sports and having heroes is a thing of the past. Those memories and feelings will never be replaced. I cherish what I had. But it’s nice to know that Jaxson Dart has a spine and seems to be a good guy. He almost makes me want to watch a little more football.

Don’t get the wrong idea, though. We’re not getting back together. It will take more than an ember for me to ever consider it.

That girl is just a little too crazy.