THE CHEESE WHIZARD

When did the American Dream become the American Expectation? How did the struggle of our fathers and grandfathers get twisted into the sense of entitlement of today’s youth? Why is a victory no longer a reward for excellence, but instead, a birthright demanded by every competitor in every arena?

For two weeks now, America has been sitting on the couch, scrolling through the channels, nearly frantic to escape the line-up of whiners, crybabies, and sore-losers clogging the bandwidth. Video, indeed, has killed the radio star.

During President Obama’s healthcare address, Congressman Joe Wilson wasn’t being told what he wanted to hear, so he shouted, “You Lie!” He lost his cool, and may lose his house seat.

When Taylor Swift won her first MTV Video Music award – beating out Beyonce Knowles – Kanye West was so disheartened by the results, he stole the 17-year-old’s mic, but not her MoonMan (the statue presented to winners), and since then, everyone from Jay-Z, to Wilbon, to The Commander In-Chief himself thinks Kanye should be sent to the Moon, man.

Serena Williams… well, you know what Serena did. The call didn’t go her way. She pouted for a second, stared in disbelief, and then flipped the lunatic switch and tarnished her image as a great American champion, maybe, forever.

And, after last week’s college football opener, Oregon running back LeGarrette Blount, disgusted in defeat, threw a post-game sucker punch that dropped Boise State’s Byron Hout to the ground. The punch also dropped Blount from a 2nd round NFL draft prospect to, as one scout put it, “…totally undraftable.”

From Michael Jordan to Roger Federer, to Jerry Jones, I could continue, but I’ll stop.

I’ll stop because while every one of these public outbursts was an inexcusable, condemnable, pathetic tantrum by some spoiled brat unsatisfied with a given outcome, in the end, the brat becomes the loser. All of them become losers. They all let their passions get the best of them. They all stood up as individuals, and as individuals they all fell down. They all apologized – some more sincerely than others – and they all suffered. And for all of those reasons, none of the aforementioned embarrassments goes down as the most appalling of the last fortnight.

So, what does?

Monday night the Buffalo Bills flew to Foxboro to welcome Tom Brady back to the NFL. In his first game back from knee surgery, Brady was stymied by a competent Bills defense, and with just over five minutes left in the game, Buffalo led by 11 points. But after a vintage Brady touchdown drive, Leodis McKelvin, in an attempt to improve the Bills’ field position and all but ice the game, fumbled the ball during the return of the ensuing kickoff. Uh Oh.

Cue the spotlight.

Cue the hero music.

Close on Brady’s determined gaze.

Touchdown.

Pats win.

When Leodis McKelvin returned to his home in Buffalo Tuesday morning, vandals had spray painted the final score of the game, along with a large penis, on his lawn.

Hideous.

First, you’re a fan. Period. You’re not an elected official. You’re not an icon of the music industry. You’re not arguably the greatest female tennis player of all time. You’re not trying to win a national championship. (Not that any of these roles stand for an excuse). You’re a fan; that’s it; a spectator; a consumer of entertainment. You enjoy yourself at the game, or you don’t, but either way, you go home afterwards, you avoid Sportscenter, and you go to bed.

Second, as the passage goes, “He is not a full man who does not own a piece of land.” No matter how large the arena, or how grave the disappointment, to take a matter to a man’s home, to trespass and to threaten are acts of a felon, not a fan. If Serena torched the rulebook on the lawn of the line judge, or if LeGarrette Blount crashed the Boise State after-party to start a brawl, they both would go to jail.

But Third, and most critically, the cowardice revealed in the Buffalo defacement is frightening. The mob mentality in sports’ fans across the country and around the globe is dangerous in its anonymity. Just because 60,000 other goons share your displeasure with the outcome on the field doesn’t mean you cease to be an individual. Your retaliation may be faceless, or so you think, but the hurt isn’t, and your punishment won’t be either. You see, it all starts with a sneaky beer toss at an umpire in Yankee Stadium. It escalates to a spray painting in Buffalo. But it ends with a gunshot, or 12, to be exact, fired by a ‘fan,’ that killed Andres Escobar, the Columbian footballer whose misplay caused his team to be ousted from the 1994 World Cup.

On Thursday, two Buffalo teens turned themselves in for the incident at McKelvin’s house. He refused to press charges. The Erie County DA’s office may have other plans.

Of the countless video bytes I have watched this week, my most favorite was one of Jay Leno interviewing Kanye West. Speaking of Kanye’s mother, who Leno previously met, and who has since passed away, Jay asked, “Kanye, what would your mother have said about this?” All Kanye could muster were tears.

As football season heats up, and the baseball playoffs begin, this act of idiocy stands as a reminder. No matter how many people share our discontent, in the end, we are all individuals. In the end, we are not a mob. And in the heat of the moment, we shouldn’t forget to ask ourselves, “What would my mother have to say about this?”