DiMaggio made the girls swoon. Eckersley was the king of cool. Elway made every other man feel inferior. A quick glance at the modern athlete tells a starkly different story. Kobe Bryant is surly and withdrawn. Alex Rodriguez has had marital problems of his own, not to mention the steroid controversy he's gone through. Donte Stallworth, Michael Vick, Plaxico Burress, Chris Henry and a slew of other NFLers have been placed in jail or worse because of their multiple run-ins with the law. Athletes are no longer gods, at least not in the human sense. Perhaps a god is the perfect way to describe the 2010 version of a pro athlete: a Greek god. Modeling humans after themselves, the mythological gods of the Greeks were often sinful and self-centered, using the common man as their victim(s) countless times. Anyone seeing parallels? But more importantly, where does Roethlisberger fall in the scheme of all this?
That is the question that needs to be addressed. Pink number 7 jerseys in the Pittsburgh area haven't sold for months. To be honest, would you let your daughter don the replica of a man who has twice been accused of sexually assaulting a woman? To add to his list of chagrin, Big Ben's troubles all seemed to start with the infamous motorcycle crash in 2006, in which he was not wearing a helmet. After seven hours of surgery to repair a fractured jaw, he humbly said, "If I ever ride again, it will definitely be with a helmet". To this day, Roethlisberger's neighbors and colleagues have sworn that he only rides his motorbike with his long, gold locks flowing in the wind.
So we wonder. Does Roethlisberger embrace the family-first values of the Steelers, and more specifically, the team's owners, the Rooney family? It's too easy to say no. Ben surely doesn't evoke memories of other Steel City athlete-humanitarians like Roberto Clemente or Sidney Crosby, but he can't even compare to the lovable bad boy Bradshaws or Stargells. Truly, Pittsburgh is just as disgusted with its son as the rest of the nation is. Perhaps "son" is not the right word, as Roethlisberger's hometown, Lima, Ohio still claims him as their own.
Residents of Lima and the surrounding community will tell you urgently that Roethlisberger was a great kid with a big smile and arm to match. Quotes like "Ben never hurt anyone" and "Such a awesome guy" abound. He was legendary, racking up thousands of passing yards for Findlay High and later deepening his Ohio folk-hero status by putting Miami (Ohio) University on the map. Drafted at number 11 by the Steelers in 2004, Roethlisberger was bound for stardom.
And stardom he found, though not perhaps in the way that was anticipated. To be simple, Roethlisberger's case is a prime example of the old adage, "Don't let it go to your head". Before his jump to the NFL, Roethlisberger was a relatively obscure behemoth. Sure, he was popular in Lima and famous on the Miami campus, but last time I checked, neither of those places were publicity hubs. No, Big Ben was just another guy, albeit a slightly more well-known one. But once you're the quarterback for the Steelers, well, you're the quarterback for the Steelers. Friends claim that Roethlisberger is perpetually cocky, whining constantly and continually asking the "Do you know who I am?" question when anything in a restaurant or bar doesn't go his way. This is where the problem lies, and where the solution is probably located. Roethlisberger, in essence, must look inside himself to change his situation.
He is rich, athletic, and disliked. One of those shouldn't belong.
