Rick Morrissey’s column “Woods lays up on difficult issues of life” (Tribune, June 10) was a real eye-opener. Expanding on his argument that “what Tiger Woods stands for is excellence in golf and excellence in making money . . . nothing else,” I began to cast a scolding eye at the athletes of days gone by. Why didn’t Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio ever take a position on the depiction of Italian Americans in the Hollywood films of the `30s and `40s? Where was Babe Didrickson Zaharias on the long march toward equal pay for women? And where was our own Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks, during the Montgomery bus boycott of 1955? Why, he spent the long, hot summer in the Friendly Confines that year stroking 44 home runs.
The list goes on and on. The stony silence of athletes through the years is a national shame.
And yet, on second thought, isn’t excellence at a particular God-given skill enough? Let these fine human specimens do what they do best and in the process thrill and entertain generations of lesser mortals. If they need justification for their lives, that would certainly serve.
