In an Age of Unreason, It’s the Stars Who Save the Day

The moments--be it Paul Kariya stepping back onto the ice or Barry Sanders stutter-stepping into the record books--are starting to come with more frequency now. They couldn’t be more needed.

Just when it seemed that everything wrong with sports was ready to take over, the last three weeks have provided us with enough reminders of why we still care, even after the strikes, holdouts, bites and chokes. Somehow it all seems a little easier to take when we get to see Jerry Rice catch a touchdown pass one more time.

We watch for days such as Sunday, when everyone wanted to see if Sanders could get the 131 yards he needed for 2,000 in a season. When the stars come through, as Sanders did by rushing for 112 yards and the game-winning touchdown in the fourth quarter, it keeps us coming back.

We watch for nights like Dec. 12, when Kariya marked his first game back from his holdout by recording two goals and two assists.

When the stars live up to the hype, it’s the most satisfying feeling in sports.

Sure it’s expected; that’s why they make the most money. But it’s not guaranteed. They still have to go out and do it.

As much as we love upsets and love to see no-names get their 15 minutes in the spotlight, that isn’t what sells the tickets and seals the television contracts. It’s about the superstars. They’re the foundation, the ones used to promote the games and prop up the ratings. Billions of dollars change hands on the promise that they will produce.

When they respond to the pressure, their value grows.

Kariya missed the first 32 games of the season before signing a two-year contract for $14 million Dec. 11. He had only one practice with his Mighty Duck teammates and hadn’t played an NHL game in six months when he took the ice the next night. He knew people wondered if he was worth all of that money after missing all of those games. He did his best to prove it by scoring two goals and assisting on two others. He did something exciting every time he had the puck.

It was one of the most exhilarating performances by an athlete I’ve ever seen in person. All of us have our favorites, the ones that make you put the ticket stub in with the rest of your cherished memorabilia.

On the way back to my car, I tried to think of comparable efforts I’ve seen live (including Fernando Valenzuela’s no-hitter in 1990) and realized two of them came this year: Michael Jordan fighting through sickness to score 38 points in the pivotal Game 5 of the NBA finals and former Red Sox pitcher Roger Clemens striking out 17 batters in his first game back at Fenway Park as a Toronto Blue Jay.

Perhaps 1997 wasn’t a total loss, after all. It still gave us some memorable moments.

Sometimes, even in team sports, everyone else fades into the background and it becomes a one-man play. Coming into those games, it was about Kariya, Jordan and Clemens, not the Ducks, Bulls and Blue Jays. And afterward all anyone could talk about was Kariya, Jordan and Clemens. That meant they did their jobs.

How about Tiger Woods at the Masters? Everyone watched--some with hope, some with skepticism--to see if the kid really deserved all of the money and the publicity. Then he tore up Augusta National in record-setting fashion.

And somehow you just knew Rice was going to catch a touchdown pass last week, in his first game back after tearing up his knee in the opening week.

(And yes, he should have been on the field, even though the worst fears were realized and he re-injured the knee. Rice’s return might have been self-serving, but it also sparked the 49ers to a victory that guaranteed them home-field advantage in the playoffs. There was no guarantee they would win the next week in Seattle, and if they had to play the NFC championship game in Green Bay, they would have lost with or without Rice. Stars get the right to try. Don’t forget: If Jordan had listened to the front office and sat out the rest of the 1985-86 season because of his foot injury, we never would have seen that 63-point playoff game in Boston Garden.)

The superstars built sports into this mega-industry; now it’s up to them to save it. Each memorable moment helps retain us despite the best efforts of so many to push us away. It’s like the one good drive that keeps you coming back to the golf course after another miserable outing.

It seems like every time we’ve reached December these last few years, we have looked back and thought “What a wacky year in sports.” Who could have imagined that Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan would be surpassed by Bud Selig and Donald Fehr, Roberto Alomar and John Hirschbeck, Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield, Latrell Sprewell and P.J. Carlesimo.?

Every year, the salaries get more outrageous, the players act more immature, the owners behave more irresponsibly.

Looming on the horizon in 1998 are a baseball league diluted even more by expansion, a basketball league headed toward a lockout, college sports weakened by early defections to the pros.

We can only hope that guys like Jordan, Kariya and Sanders do what they’re paid to do, what we want them to do. A simple request, perhaps, but never made with as much desperation as now.

J.A. Adande is a columnist for the Times Orange County edition.