Why do athletes play past their prime? Maybe it’s because they fear life away from the game.
Lyle Morissette
Sports Editor
When to call it a career? That daunting catechism may quite possibly be the most unsettling and frightening question any professional athlete may come across in their career. Nobody knows the right way to say goodbye. Forget next season’s contract, or that they may be in a season long slump, retirement for athletes is scary despite being—one would think—set for life financially. Some play a frustrating game of hop-scotch with it, afraid to make a decision, while others just refuse to ever give up the goat until a sudden, and soul crushing, realization that they no longer have what it takes, physically or mentally. But, it’s the select few that refuse to give-up that are the most intriguing.
Why are they so Herculean? Is it because they need the money (unlikely), love the lifestyle, the fame or the limelight (highly probable), or is it because they know nothing else outside of their chosen sport—it is all they have ever done, and all they really know how to do.
For many, the post-career, or “retirement”, is something that they wish would never bear its face. Unsurprisingly, this contrasts the beliefs of any blue or white-collar Joe out there who works their entire lives away in hopes of saving for retirement—in their 60’s or 70’s. On the flipside, most athletes commonly retire between the age of 30 and 40, give-or-take a few years on either side of those figures.
But, it is these special few—the exceptions on either side—that are the most intriguing: some play well past their prime—even past their downfall; others fold them up to early; while some are given no alternative when their careers are tragically wisped away from them in an instant due to an injury.
Yet a small portion of these individuals, the ones who just refuse to give up and who, no matter what, always find a way back the next season, are special. The toughest thing is to make it big, the next is giving it up. When they are young it’s: (s)he’s too small, not smart enough. And when they become seasoned veterans it’s: they are too old and slow, the reaction time is no longer there. Luckily, the heart often prevails over both the cynics and the unceremonious statistical numbers in the latter years.
Despite that, there are always the critics who say: “it’s time he gave it up”, or “he’s doing nothing but hurting his team nowadays.” What they often fail to shine the light on are the intangibles that these athletes, often former superstars, bring to their team. Time and again their mere presence in a locker room brings up spirits and their experience is often referenced in hopes of fostering the development of young talent.
Who are these select few? How about Michael Jordan, who came back from retirement twice; his first comeback bore sight to no setbacks when the Bulls won another three straight titles after his brief two year hiatus to play baseball and to make Space Jam. His second comeback was the type that has been discussed: he still had the talent, but the skills were clearly diminishing. Yet, he was still a bright spot on a porous Wizards team. While the second un-retirement might be regarded as a black spot on his legacy by some fans, it shouldn’t. He simply loved the game too much to give it up. Heck, if somebody told you that you could no longer cut it at your dream job and should retire or quit, what would your response be? Though so!
Then there is Ken Griffey Jr. who may be the best, untainted professional baseball player ever. Had he not contracted the injury bug in the early 2000’s—losing at the least three or four full seasons during his prime—he would have arguably shattered numerous records, including home-runs, without cheating. And yet, he is undeterred and is still playing despite declining stats output and a body to match. If you go to Seattle and ask why, all you would have to do is take a look in the change room. Griffey has transformed a defunct and sullen team into a unit that not only enjoys playing again, but also appreciates each other’s company; Japanese superstar Ichiro Suzuki was all but headed out the door before Ken returned to the city that “The Kid” (Jr’s nickname) built.
It is these intangibles that these “shell-of-themselves” superstars bring to their teams and their fans—who never seem to complain about seeing their favourite for one more year—that should dwarf the perceived negatives. They do it for themselves— whether for the love, money, or fame is irrelevant—the fans, as well as for their teams who very well may need the boost or the extra fan support that their sheer presence constantly draws in.
And this is why, despite the constant barrage of cynicism and criticism, that they refuse answering to retirement. And despite their statistical downfall, most fans would grudgingly attest to the fact that they have giddily cheered on at least one of these “past their prime” athletes at some point in their lives. And, instead of hearing “you suck”, they often hear “thanks for another year!” Just make sure to cover up those tears when they finally do call it quits for good.

