Where Do We Draw The Line?

It's been pointed out to me recently that we often hold our sports heroes to a much higher standard of morals and behaviour than we do our everyday heroes, like friends or parents. They also suffer far more public consequences for their lapses than do their everyday counterparts, and sometimes far more severe consequences too. But where do we draw the line? When is too much?

The event that brought about this train of thought was, of course, the drink-driving incident involving rising stars of cycling, Jack Bobridge and Michael Hepburn. When you become a professional Australian sportsman, a world champion or an Olympic athlete, you must expect that you're about to become something of a celebrity, and with celebrity of course comes the admiration, the hero-worship, the esteem of the viewing public. On some level these riders must have known they were signing up to become public figures with the expectations of many riding on their shoulders. On some level they've agreed to this, whether consciously or not.

But is it fair of us to place these high expectations on our sportsmen? Jack Bobridge is just 22 years old, Michael Hepburn only 20. How many of us know a 20-year-old male who could live up to the expectations we hold of the young men mentioned above? Conversely, how many of us know a 20-year-old who's made a mistake or a bad decision - or several - along the path to maturity? As someone who's been through university, I can promise that the intelligence to be accepted to one of the top universities in Australia does not necessarily bestow any of the above qualities. In fact, I can regale you with any number of epic stories, many featuring 20-year-old boys, that would thoroughly convince you otherwise. Unless we believe that signing a professional athlete's contract bestows magical powers of self-control, wise judgement and keen understanding, it can't be reasonable of us to have different standards for pro cyclists than we do for everyone else.

So where do we draw the line? Do we acknowledge that most 20-year-old boys we know have made their own mistakes, and that it's part of the process of growing up? Do we take into account that this is the first scratch on a pair of squeaky records that shine with accolades, and dole out a pair of second chances? Or should we reiterate the standard of behaviour expected of Australian role models and hand down a severe penalty as a deterrent from a repetition?

Somehow it seems a little harsh to me to tell a couple of 20-year-olds that the rules have changed just because they're very good at their jobs. After all, they're still human.