http://www.tennessean.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080505/SPORTS01/805050333/1027/sports01It's an unfortunate byproduct of sports these days that the longer one remains a fan of any team, the better the odds this question will be asked:
How much is too much?
In a day and age when police-blotter activity, drug-testing queries and paternity suits seem to capture almost as much attention as actual athletic exploits, should fans feel a need to respond to their own moral compass?
Should supporters blindly continue to cheer a favorite team, regardless of what questionable characters that means backing? Or is there a line that can be crossed, one where the most diehard booster at long last turns his back on school ties or professional colors?
I ask these questions because I recently discovered my own boundary, and it came in the form of the legendary Pacman Jones.
A lifelong fan of the Dallas Cowboys, I have chosen to renounce my favorite team — not a single cheer shall be uttered, not a single high-five offered — as long as Pacman sits on the team's roster.
This should have been a difficult decision. My lifelong bond with the Cowboys was forged under mildly challenging childhood circumstances. Growing up in Redskins territory just outside of Washington D.C., I suffered my share of stolen lunch-money, recess tauntings and social stigma for sticking with the stars.
But in reality, there was little hesitation in bidding at least a temporary farewell to my club of choice. Pacman's six arrests, 12 incidents regarding police intervention and ongoing NFL suspension made it impossible to support any team that employed him.
It would have been one thing had the Cowboys drafted Pacman, only to become gradually aware of the monster he was. But it's quite another to trade for — to choose to acquire — a player with a rap sheet.
The situation made me wonder how many other fans have come to the end of their sports loyalty rope.
In recent years, the scores of empty seats in Portland's basketball arena suggested that once-rabid fans — the team set an American sports record of 814 straight sellouts — had wearied of the "Jailblazers" many run-ins with the law.
Locally, it's hard to imagine even the most vocal Vols booster hasn't at times wondered what he's supporting, given the football team's penchant for problems. Recently, All-SEC punter Britton Colquitt was arrested in a fifth alcohol-related offense, drawing a five-game suspension and loss of his scholarship.
When do the acts of individuals overpower the desire to support a team? Everyone has a limit. Thanks, Pac, for helping me find mine.
