Sunday marked the last time Red Sox franchise great David Ortiz set foot on an MLB field, playoffs notwithstanding. In a pregame ceremony that lasted over 40 minutes, Ortiz was honored by the team, as well as dignitaries including Boston Mayor Martin Walsh, Massachusetts Gov. Charlie Baker and even Dominican Republic President Danilo Medina. Now, I could write an entire book on “Big Papi” and still not adequately capture what he has meant to the people of Boston for the past 13 years, so it would be foolish of me to try here. Much ink from far superior writers has already been spilled on the subject, so I will not attempt to broach it.
Instead, I wish to use the example of Ortiz’s swan song season to discuss the merits and drawbacks of an increasingly popular fad in professional sports; what I will call the “victory lap.”
The reason that the Red Sox were able to give Ortiz such a spectacular send-off is because prior to the start of the season, he publicly announced that it would be his last. Ortiz joined an impressive list of recent sports greats to give this advanced notice; a list that includes Derek Jeter, Kobe Bryant, Mariano Rivera and within the last week, Paul Pierce. Each of these players, to a certain extent, enjoyed or will enjoy a “farewell tour” of sorts, which means ceremony and gifts at each destination over the course of the season. No matter how big or small these celebrations, one thing remains constant: in a player’s farewell season, the spotlight is on them.
The reason I call this type of departure a victory lap, is in most cases, competition does not seem too important. Ortiz and the Red Sox happen to be one of the best teams in their league and may be primed for a deep playoff run, but this seems to be the exception rather than the rule. In Kobe’s final year his Lakers were an atrocious 17-65, but it did not seem to matter.
The occasion of Kobe Bryant’s imminent retirement made them a team people wanted to watch. In Bryant’s final game, his teammates abandoned the idea of team play all together, giving the ball to Bryant on every play and allowing him to score 60 points on a whopping 50 shots. Again, winning was not the point. People just wanted to see how many points Bryant would put up, and it his send-off was undoubtedly impressive.
While everyone agrees that great athletes deserve to be recognized for their careers, the recent trend of season-long goodbyes has begun to get under the skin of some fans. These people argue that when stars do this, they are making the story about themselves and taking away from their teammates, the competition and the sport itself. It would be fair to say that some pros feel this way as well.
Tim Duncan and Kevin Garnett, two other NBA all-time greats who retired recently, opted for the other route. After the season ended, they (in comparison) quietly announced that they would not be returning, and rode off into the proverbial sunset. There was undoubtedly a massive outpouring of respect and admiration, but it happened in the vacuum of the offseason, and did not shift focus from anything else.
What makes a player choose one method of retirement or another, and is there a “better” choice? It seems that for one, the team has something to do with it. The legends for big-market storied franchises like the Yankees, Lakers, Sox and Celtics tend to favor the over-the-top honors, while the small market stars of Minnesota and San Antonio fly under the radar. This makes logical sense, as the bigger teams have always put more effort into cultivating the legends and memories of their players.
The attitude of the players themselves also has a lot to do with the decision. No one in their right mind could call Bryant humble. Duncan on the other hand, across his career as possibly the greatest power forward of all time, has been the personification of the quiet, shy, hardworking everyman.
On the whole, neither method is better or worse. I believe that once a player has reached the highest echelon of professional sports, they have earned any honors and attention that are bestowed upon them. There is still something to be said for the confidence it takes to walk away from the spotlight quietly; the confidence to trust your play enough to let it be the only pillar of your legacy.
