Palladino: For Inspiration, Look To David Wilson — Not Alex Rodriguez
By Ernie Palladino
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A cheater can assault the record books, but he will never inspire.
The cheated can finish last and light up the darkness.
It happened Saturday, in two different cities, at different times of day. And it didn't take much to see which character produced the feel-good story of the weekend.
Hours before Alex Rodriguez moved into second place on the all-time RBI list in the Baltimore night, former Giants running back David Wilson launched himself into, uh, last place in a sun-splashed triple jump competition at Icahn Stadium in New York.
It isn't often that a failed competition at the Adidas Grand Prix can lift one's heart, but that is exactly what Wilson did. It wasn't the 24-year-old scoring an electrifying touchdown or entertaining the MetLife Stadium crowd with a celebratory end-zone backflip. That all ended with his teary abandonment of his NFL dreams last year after doctors diagnosed him with spinal stenosis, the dreaded narrowing of the spinal column that puts football players at risk of permanent paralysis from just one badly placed hit.
No, this was Wilson crawling through the proverbial window that opens once the big door shuts. He had told the world at his retirement press conference that it hadn't heard the last of him, that he would resurface elsewhere -- presumably in a safer athletic environment -- to "set another dream and be great at that."
Saturday didn't exactly prove to be an ideal coming-out party. He finished last by a lot. His 48-1 ¼ jump didn't put him close to his dream of qualifying for the national championship. He'd hopped, skipped and jumped longer in high school.
It represented a start for an ex-football player who hadn't jumped since 2011, when he wore the colors of Virginia Tech. Nothing more, nothing less. And yet, for anyone searching, for anyone needing to look up to someone, Wilson was the guy. His body cheated him out of the riches and fame of a promising NFL career. He found a different direction. And there he flew Saturday, perhaps not as far as his world-class competition, but airborne nonetheless.
He inspired. In that, he won.
Hours later, A-Rod did his thing. A two-run homer in the sixth inning of a 9-4 loss put him at 2,001 career RBIs, behind only Hank Aaron (2,297). The homer was his 666th.
He inspired nobody.
It matters not how many homers Rodriguez ends up with when it's all over. It won't matter that, five safely batted balls from now, he will arrive at the hallowed 3,000-hit plateau.
The work ethic it took to produce the numbers, the perseverance it took to remain productive at age 39 -- after two hip operations -- don't matter a lick.
The label "cheater" buries it all. Despised by his own organization, hated by any Yankees fan who believes fair play trumps success, Rodriguez can never truly inspire. He blew all that the first time he stuck himself with a needle full of PEDs.
Inspiration comes in many forms. The maimed war veteran who dances in front of a nation sends hearts soaring. The child who fights cancer with an ever-present smile gives us that tingly feeling. The poor, teenage African-American girl who shuts down all the boys in Williamsport sets other girls to dreaming of things they'd never have dreamed a couple of years ago.
Those people beat the odds. They won. But winning isn't always the prerequisite for inspiration. Sometimes, it comes in the attempt alone.
The cheated lost Saturday. Finished dead last. And yet, Wilson won big. If he never gets close to his Olympic dream, he will still have done his job.
The cheater rang up more numbers Saturday. Rodriguez moved up the all-time list and made the debate over his Hall of Fame eligibility just a little bit harder.
Ask yourself the question: Which one really inspires you?