By Brad Locke
March 26, 2004

(AgapePress) - Negative labels tend to have stronger adhesion than positive ones. Rasheed Wallace is a hot-headed thug. Phil Mickelson is obstinately soft. Frank Thomas is a surly malcontent. Regardless of what these athletes do to try and remove such labels, the glue holds fast.

Conversely, labels such as hero or good guy or even Christian can be peeled off by a strong gust of wind. One bad deed or politically incorrect utterance will render moot whatever good an athlete had accomplished over the years. For instance, golfer Vijay Singh was once an intriguing story, the quiet Fijian with the goofy Coke bottle glasses who won the 2000 Masters. One comment about his desire not to play with Annika Sorenstam in a men's tournament fated him to being boxed in as an aloof sexist pig.

So I'm here to defend a few athletes who have been wrongly labeled during their careers.

Let's begin with J.D. Drew. A former co-worker of mine once said Drew "represents everything that's wrong with baseball." When he was drafted by the Phillies in 1998, Drew drew much criticism for demanding a lot more money than Philadelphia was offering, then refusing to sign and re-entering the draft the next year, where St. Louis picked him up. He was labeled as arrogant and greedy, and perhaps he was. Or perhaps he was a naïve accomplice to his big-shot agent, Scott Boras. I don't know. (I've learned not to judge so harshly regarding athletes and their contracts, for various reasons.)

But I do know that Drew unashamedly calls himself a Christian. Many years later, I believe that label is becoming the more prominent one. But it's also been turned on its head. Drew, traded to Atlanta this past offseason, has been accused of being soft. His career has been injury-plagued, and some say he's wasted his talent.

In a recent Sports Illustrated story, Drew bristled at the accusations, saying that "if you're a true believer, you're gonna be devoted to the ability God has given you. It's your obligation. Anything less than 100 percent is a repudiation of God's gifts. And I can promise you one thing -- I give 100 percent." That kind of comment, which is as sound a bit of theology as you'll ever hear, should earn Drew a second look from fans and the media. Too often those sticky negative labels distract us from the reality. Drew doesn't work hard and doesn't appreciate his natural gifts, you say? If that's your preconceived notion, then that's what you're going to see.

Another example is golfer Davis Love III. Not that he necessarily has a notorious reputation, but he's often viewed as the typical PGA country clubber -- pompous, solemn and generally bland. That image was reinforced a few weeks ago at the Accenture Match Play Championship when Love took exception to a heckler in the gallery. He stepped away from his ball, walked over to the ropes and demanded the perpetrator be identified and removed before he resumed play. This, of course, renewed the criticism of golfers being mentally weak, unable to tune out distractions like football players do when 80,000 fans are screaming at the tops of their lungs.

Love was roundly castigated for being a whiny pansy. Not so widely reported was Love's gift of $700,000 -- his entire winnings from the match play tourney -- to his church. Most every athlete gives charitably to some extent -- I fear often because it's expected of them, or because they want to gain recognition for it -- but I've seen few examples of such selflessness. It's obvious there are more important things than winning in Love's life -- giving back, not to mention preserving the etiquette of the game.

Often an athlete is merely mislabeled. Take Kurt Warner and some of his St. Louis Rams teammates. I had a reader once tell me that the whole group of them seemed “too charismatic” for his tastes. Now, I’ve never been to a service at Kurt Warner’s church (St. Louis Family Church), but I’m pretty sure you won’t hear congregants speaking in tongues or prophesying or whatnot. And I’ve certainly never seen him exhibit that kind of behavior on the field. I believe the reader was really taking issue with Warner’s enthusiasm for his faith, which in that case is a good label being called bad.

Labels serve a purpose when used appropriately, but even then only to a degree. They give a brief description of someone that you can't know intimately. Some labels, bad or good, are well-earned. Others are unjustifiable and/or have a little too much adhesive. Labels should never be viewed as comprehensive. They are inherently incomplete. And they all should come with this warning: Apply with care.