SAN FRANCISCO, Calif. Nov. 8, 1994 -- What is it about old athletes that turns our hardened hearts to mush? When Martina Navratilova played in the Bank of the West Classic in Oakland last week, the penultimate tournament of her career, we fawned over her with the kind of affection and reverence usually reserved for bent, wrinkly recipients of Lifetime Achievement Awards at the Oscars.
Navratilova is the bent, wrinkly version of a sport star. At 38 years old, she is twice the age of some of her opponents, and nearly three times the age of Venus Williams, who made her first professional appearance at age 14 at the Bank of the West Classic.
Williams' pro debut, with its extraordinary media coverage, shined a light on why we so admire the longevity of Navratilova, who in almost any other walk of life would be considered young. Navratilova accomplished what so few athletes do: She survived. She withstood the media scrutiny, handled the money, absorbed the fame, deflected the criticisms, resisted the destructive temptations.
To make it to age 38 in any sport is a triumph, and more so today than ever. Bjorn Borg left tennis while still in his 20s. John McEnroe left, too, in his late 20s (then tried to come back). Tracy Austin and Andrea Jaeger didn't make it out of their teens.
But it's not just tennis players who burn brightly and flame out quickly. A professional football player's career lasts, on average, four years, until he's 26 or 27. Female gymnasts retire by the time they're 17 or 18, figure skaters by about age 22. Male gymnasts and figure skaters are gone by their early to mid-20s.
Perhaps we shouldn't expect that Navratilova's career be the norm rather than the exception. Athletics demands a fit, energetic body that, obviously, is more likely to be a standard feature with the young than the old. But too often our athletes are leaving with their bodies intact and their minds crippled.
Last year, Michael Jordan left basketball as a young man at the peak of his career, supposedly weary of the scrutiny and pressure.
Last week, Dwight Gooden, Rookie of the Year at age 19, a Cy Young Award winner at 20 and a World Series winner at 21, appeared washed up at 29. He was suspended from baseball for the 1995 season for testing positive for cocaine use yet again.
This week, Jennifer Capriati is scheduled to play her first match in a comeback at the ripe age of 18 after her own bout with drug use and a severe case of burnout.
Athletes are doomed, like the rest of us, by their character flaws. But in America today, the sports culture heaps obscene riches and celebrity on new young stars -- and it mangles them as it elevates them.
We're a nation of consumers, and we've become as voracious in our appetite for new stars as for new cars, new restaurants, new clothes, new television shows. The unspoken imperative of modern sports has become, "Keep the young ones coming, and make sure they're more dazzling than the ones we already have."
The rewards are enormous for those with a wicked fastball or forehand. Salaries and prize money seem to rise exponentially each year. Endorsements add millions more. The wealth and fame seem limitless, and so do all the boundaries in their lives. While they might feel suffocatingly burned by responsibility in their professional lives, they are utterly free in their personal lives. They're kids with no one to say, "No."
As fans and media, we forgive almost every transgression when someone's on top. Because there are almost no penalties to pay for one's self-destructive behavior, it often goes unchecked until it's too late. Then when the star's skills begin to erode, we're on to the next new face, tossing the fading athlete away like our other disposable products, from cameras to contact lenses.
So when I see Martina Navratilova at the age of 38 still playing beautifully with a graciousness that comes only with maturity, I fawn with the best of them. She didn't let us shape her career; she kept her own strong hand on it and now is going out the way every athlete would like to but few do: healthy, satisfied and on her own terms.