
It's nice to see Jim Boeheim in the news, with armies of fans giving him an ovation normally reserved for a Caesar.
A shame he just killed a man.
Over the last few days, we've heard how heavy Boeheim's heart has been and how he's enduring an epic, internal conflict, while college basketball fans rally around the iconic Syracuse basketball coach, who returned to work without missing a single game.
Can you even name the man he killed? Do you mourn for Jorge Jimenez? Do you even care? He was 51 years old when he lost his life, if that matters to you.
MORE: Syracuse Coach Boeheim Trying To Cope With Tragic Accident
The instant this tragic moment was reported, fans swarmed to Boeheim's defense, boldly asserting his innocence, pointing out the fact that he was neither drunk nor guilty of a crime. He even called the cops the moment he struck Jimenez. Great. But does that really warrant applause? It was clear from the jump that the masses cared not about Mr. Jimenez's death but rather Boeheim's involvement. Once he was cleared of any legal wrongdoing, it was time to lift the coach on our collective shoulders and echo the praises of this great man because he can lead young men on the hardwood.
Folks love to dwell in selective facts. Fact: Boeheim was driving legally and soberly down the road. Fact: He will neither be arrested nor convicted of a crime. Fact: He still struck a man with his car, who soon died. Fact: It's way better to be Boeheim than Jorge Jimenez.
This is not meant to vilify Boeheim, who has every right to live his life and continue his career, but rather we who worship anyone at the expense of sanity. Sports fans are by nature immature and illogical and often ignorant, choosing games over the dark realities of life. But you'd think we had the sense, if not the soul, to reflect when someone dies.
Had Boeheim never aged more than 51 years, he never would have made four of his five Final Four appearances. He never would have come close to 1,000 wins. He never would have recruited Carmelo Anthony and won his only national title. He would have coached his last game in 1995.
You'd be hard-pressed to find social media posts praying for Jimenez, whose life was ended on that midnight highway. It's swell that Boeheim is sorry and has contacted the family of the deceased. That means he has a proper conscience, not biblical virtue. But Jimenez is the small print, a parenthetical bump on Boeheim's career. Whenever I suggested that Boeheim could at least settle with the family out of court, I was scolded for being balefully void of facts and way out of line.
Maybe I am. Maybe if I made countless millions over my life, I'd offer the family some financial security. Maybe I didn't murder the man, but I did kill him. Intent matters under the law. But kindness has no place in court, or in life. And it seems charity is for chumps.
What are we when death itself is eclipsed by the shadow of March Madness? Did Boeheim have to coach the next game on the schedule, just three days later? Would it not have been a decent gesture to skip 40 minutes of basketball to comfort or honor the family of the deceased? Did fans have to luxuriate over him like he were Buzz Aldrin back from the moon? Is Jim Boeheim a hero?
No doubt we project lofty, cinematic qualities among famous people. Millions of Americans just watched the Oscars, gawked at Hollywood spending four hours celebrating itself, clapping for pretty and petty stars who haven't lived in the real world in decades. Similarly, men like Coach K or John Calipari or Boeheim are more than basketball coaches. They are emblems, avatars, pillars of sports mythology. They are the closest we have to royalty in sports.
You can argue the only reason we know about this incident is because of Boeheim's fame. Fine. We just don't have to celebrate him for it. You can root for Boeheim without being hauntingly numb to the man he accidentally killed. His name was Jorge Jimenez, even if you don't recall, or care.