Athletes? Humans? Confusion.

When I first read the headline explaining that Sean Taylor had died from a bullet wound, my first reaction was instinctive: "Shit." A completely normal, human response expected from anyone who understands the implications of such a story.

However, it's the second thought that passed my mind seconds after my discovery that truly worries me: "Thank God they drafted Laron Landry."

Yes, it's an almost comically rude statement, putting football before...well, death. Most people, sports fans and non-sports alike, would scold me for such immature thoughts. But you can chastise me all you want, the simple fact remains: I am a devoted sports enthusiast and I fear thinking of athletes as actual people.

I'm not proud of this. Actually, none of us are because none of us really understand this concept of this complex of the inhuman professional athlete. But if we closely examine our ESPN-watching behavior, we realize that we are afraid of imagining the athletes we watch on the field as actual human individuals, with...lives...y'know, with daily struggles, fears, losses, etc. like the rest of us people. And the sports fan inside of us pisses his pants like a pre-schooler giving up his lunch money when he hears the most earnest theme mentioned in between Sportscenter highlights: death.

This shouldn't be surprising considering how athletes have always been viewed. Especially in football, where masked men are almost robotic in their aggression, athletes are trained to not express vulnerable emotions on the field. Emotion means weakness and weakness means loss. An athlete must be prepared to endure years of humiliation if he's caught crying on the sidelines. He is fired under intense scrutiny by teammates, coaches, and even worse, the fans, if he bursts out in frustration. To those with glued eyes to the television, athletes are not merely individuals competing for a win ... they are soldiers numb to common human fallibility, bred to achieve only one goal by any means possible. They are chess pieces, only moving to win, never feeling.

Which is why stories like Taylor's (and also more recently, Darrent Williams, Eddie Griffin, Joe Kennedy) are downright frightening. Off-the-field issues and, in the gravest situations, death destroy the idea of athletes as these numb figures just designed to win championships. They create the ridiculous idea that these athletes are, in fact, humans. And we instinctively try to compensate the confusion with the only thing we really know: sports.


Wah? Suicide? Where's Tony Romo?

When Mike Vick was first convicted, there were few stories on the conditions of the dogs, but ESPN continued to roll tapes of Joey Harrington taking snaps at training camp. Days after Darrent Williams was murdered, fans were glad that Dre Bly would improve the secondary situation. America freaked out last year when TO was accused of attempted suicide. Even today, Len Bias (who overdosed on cocaine days after being drafted by the Celtics) is remembered more for a wasted draft pick than a tragic death.

I guess there's no escaping this complex. Sports will always be intense competitions played by athletes who prepare rigorously everyday. This vision is inevitable, a necessary evil in the shallow world of sports. Until fans understand that the same players they draft in their fantasy leagues are prone to human nature, if ever, unfortunate stories like Sean Taylor's will continue to leave us simply confused.