A good attitude contrasts bad one
I was struck by the actions and words of two athletes whose stories appeared in these pages in the last couple of weeks. A more dynamic contrast, I don't think I could find.
One player was Jim Schuler, a senior student-athlete at Springfield High School.
The other was Gary Sheffield, a major league baseball player with the Los Angeles Dodgers.
They know his name: I use Schuler as an example because of his actions in Springfield's much-anticipated basketball game against Akron St. Vincent-St. Mary.
I have seen Schuler play a few times; regardless of the situations, the Springfield Tiger would play the game. That's all -- he would just play.
Which brings us to Friday's game against Springfield's nationally-ranked opponent. Schuler, I'm sure, played as hard as he could for all the minutes he was on the floor, as did all of the Tigers.
Toward the end of the game, with the chance of winning out of reach, Schuler was whistled for his fifth personal foul.
On his way to the bench, Schuler raised a hand to his friends, family and fans in the Springfield cheering section and closed his fist. It seemed to be equally a gesture of thanks and respect.
One extreme to the other: Contrast the way our local high school student-athlete conducted himself with Sheffield.
A major leaguer for more than 12 years, Sheffield is an outfielder with the Los Angeles Dodgers, a franchise whose rich history in the game of baseball ranks favorably with any.
Sheffield has a lifetime batting average of .293, with 279 home runs and 916 RBIs.
He has played in almost 1,500 games and was a member of the 1997 Florida Marlins team that beat the Cleveland Indians in the World Series. He is scheduled to make approximately $10 million this season. To play baseball.
Disrespect: Yet Gary Sheffield is unhappy. He said he feels unwanted by the Dodgers, because he feels underpaid. He saw bigger contracts go to three teammates -- pitchers Kevin Brown and Darren Dreifort, and outfielder Shawn Green -- and wondered why he too couldn't have his old contract torn up and newer, better-paying one drawn up.
That was last week. This week, Sheffield intimated that because of the disrespect he felt by the organization, he might not play as hard as he should in some games.
He was quoted as saying, "I have to remind myself every day to be a professional."
Gary Sheffield makes me sick.
If I were the general manager of the Dodgers, I wouldn't trade Sheffield, as he has demanded. I wouldn't play him, either.
I'd eat the $10 million and I wouldn't move Sheffield off the dugout bench.
No understanding: Sheffield makes more money, per game (almost $62,000) than a vast majority of Americans will earn in a year. Beyond his base salary, Sheffield earns money from the bat company whose product he uses, the batting gloves and fielding glove he wears and the shoes he wears.
He gets meal money every day the Dodgers are on the road, in addition to being fed in the clubhouse before and after every game.
He rides first class on every trip and pays nothing. Virtually every expense he has from February to October is picked up by the organization he plays for.
Yet he feels disrespected because some players make a more obscene amount of money than him.
Sheffield needs a few lessons. Humility would be a good place to start. Understanding how out of whack his income is in relation to the fans who come to the ballpark to watch him play.
Maybe the place to start is a village in Eastern Mahoning County. There, Sheffield could watch a group of high school boys play not for money or adulation, but for the simple, genuine feeling of doing what they love and doing it at the best of their ability.
XRob Todor is sports editor of The Vindicator.