What’s So Wrong With the Right Decision?

Many people would have you believe that Carlos Delgado is a coward, a baseball player who refuses to strive for true greatness, who is content to wallow away with a mediocre team rather than succeed on a higher level in a tight pennant race.

When Delgado, the Toronto Blue Jays' slugging first baseman, made it known that he would not waive his no-trade clause so that the Jays could ship him off to a contender, he was roundly and swiftly criticized.

In many people's eyes, his refusal amounted to waving a white flag. He was giving up on a chance to reach new heights. He was giving up on a chance to make a real difference in a run to the World Series. Most of all, he was giving up on being competitive.

And in sports, that's a cardinal sin. If you don't want to compete, you might as well pack up your locker and hit the road.

Naturally, then, Delgado was accused of being a less than fierce competitor, someone who doesn't really care about winning. Some took it a step further and suggested that Delgado was actually afraid of stepping up and contributing to a team gunning for the playoffs. To them, it was a show of cowardice, pure and simple.

But it can't be that simple. Maybe in the back of his mind, Delgado is a little bit afraid of jumping in head-first to a pennant race. But more likely, he's just afraid of leaving the place he's called home for his entire career.

He's afraid of destroying the life he's built in Toronto, afraid of losing the level of comfort he's reached there. And as surprising as it is in this day and age, he might even feel some loyalty to the organization.

Is that so wrong? Is he a coward because he wants to do what's best for him in a personal rather than professional sense? In any other walk of life, the answer would be no. But in sports, where a strong sense of machismo always bubbles right below the surface, the answer is yes.

We've seen the criticism before.

Last season, Rafael Palmeiro vetoed a trade to the Cubs because he didn't want to leave his family and his home in Texas. Matt Williams refused trades from the Diamondbacks because he wanted to stay at home in Arizona.

And we'll certainly see the criticism boil over again. If Randy Johnson is still in Arizona after the trade deadline, many will wonder if it was Johnson or the Diamondbacks who made the decision to keep him there. As it stands now, Johnson will only agree to a trade if he gets sent to a team that is guaranteed to make the playoffs. The reason is simple -- he doesn't want to leave his home without getting a pretty big payoff.

That's the same logic Seattle's John Olerud used when he refused to waive his no-trade clause earlier this month. He said he didn't want to up and leave his family just to play on a contending team for a few months. Now, Olerud may not be playing on any team. The Mariners released him after his refusal.

That Seattle was willing to part ways with Olerud so quickly and unceremoniously is disturbing. But in a way, that's just business.

The really disturbing thing is the criticism he's sure to hear. Like Delgado, Olerud is doing what's best for him and his family. There's no reason he should be vilified.

But there are reasons in the world of sports. Maybe it's the competition. We expect our professional athletes to always be the best they can be, to always rise to the challenge.

Or maybe it's the singular focus we've seen in the most elite of athletes, the ability to put aside everything else and concentrate only on the task at hand.

But perhaps the biggest reason is that we almost expect athletes to be robots. When we go to games, we watch the players do their jobs and cheer them on. When it's over, though, we go back to our lives and our families. The players just go back to playing another day.

At least, that's what a lot of sports fans may think. It's obviously not true, but it shouldn't come as a surprise. Athletes put on super-human displays on the field, so how can they be human off it?

The athletes find a way, whether their fans realize it or not. They have wives and kids. They have homes. They have dogs to walk and cats to feed.

It's only when an athlete like Delgado decides to move that personal life to the top of the priority list that people see the human side.

And that's a shame because we need to see more of that human side. It's a shame, too, because a shift in priorities always leads to the aforementioned criticism. In reality, it should lead to celebration, or at the very least, respect

Yes, some people would have you believe that Carlos Delgado and others like him are showing nothing but cowardice for putting their families or their homes before their careers.

But I think bravery might be a better word.