Lessons all around

You’re special, until you’re not

YOU’RE SPECIAL. You’re special because you can run fast. You’re special because you can jump high. You’re special because you can kick, throw and/or catch better than anybody in your school. You’re special because everybody told you so. You didn’t even have to do that well in the classroom because you were so good outside on the playground.

You’re special because you are better at throwing, kicking, jumping and/or catching than anybody in your neighborhood and always have been. You ran circles around your friends growing up—literally. All the kids wanted to be on your team. You were picked first in every schoolyard game. Sometimes you got to play with the older boys because you were just so much better than kids your age. The older boys respected you, the younger boys admired you, the girls acknowledged you. You’re special.

You’re special because you caught the eye of a coach. He praised your skills. He helped you hone them. You got bigger and faster and better. One day your name appeared in the newspaper. It was at the end of a story about a Friday night football game. You might have bought a couple of Saturday papers to show around.

Colleges came a-callin’. You were recruited. You were the only kid in your school to get visits from college coaches. Your parents were thrilled. Because you’re special. If you weren’t wined and dined on a couple of campuses, at least you were dined. There was talk of the NFL. Or NBA. Or major-league baseball. In a couple of years, you could buy your mama a new house. You’re special. Everybody tells you so.

Then you get in trouble with the law. Maybe it’s a traffic violation. Maybe there’s a gun involved. Maybe drugs.

But you’re special. You’re an athlete. Certain things need to be taken into consideration. And apparently are in Arkansas. The officer gives you—he’s caught on his own recording equipment—“one hell of a big break.”

It’s confirmed. You’re special. You can play a game and everybody, including the law, gives you a break.

Then the whole matter becomes public. Then you’re no longer so special. You’re not even part of the team any longer.

What happened? When did you stop being special?

Answer: not soon enough. Because if you hadn’t been treated as so special, you might have learned to respect the law in time to avoid your fall. No matter how high you’d risen. But you turned out to be not so special after all. Those of us who let you believe you were didn’t do you any favors.

YOU’RE SPECIAL. You’re special because you have a badge. You can ticket mayors. You can stop a governor on the highway. Haven’t you seen the movies? Cops are special.

You’re special because you can give an athlete a break. A hell of a break. You’re special because you can even chew him out while you’re doing it. “You’ve got a career ahead of you . . . . What I should do is bend you over here and whup your butt.” You’re special because you can tell a prominent athlete you should whup his butt.

You’re special because you can tell a kid you’re taking his gun and letting his coach decide what to do with it. Not a judge and jury. You’re special enough that you don’t need a judge and jury. You are judge and jury. It’s confirmed. You’re special. Then the whole matter becomes public. Then you’re no longer so special. You’re not even on the force any longer.

What happened? When did you stop being special?

Answer: not soon enough. Because if you hadn’t been allowed to think you were special, you would have stuck to the rules and regulations and still have that badge. Those of us who let you develop that illusion did you no favors.

————— There are a couple of lessons here— at least. Certainly for Arkansas State University’s athletes, or any athletes at any college. Certainly for the Arkansas State Police, or any lawmen at any agency.

Here’s hoping other athletes and other law officers have learned by these sad examples in last week’s news. And that the rest of us have learned something, too—about humility and equal treatment under the law and not to assume we’re so special, either.