Talent is intoxicating. Especially true, exceptional talent. The problem, then is then now you’re drunk. And responsible for it.
In sports, there is an old warning: don’t fall in love with the talent. Because your eyes can see how fast an athlete can run or how much weight they can bench press. But if they don’t play fast, it doesn’t really matter how fast they actually are.
Fans also know that players can be supremely talented, play incredibly well, and still not help you win.
In March, the Cleveland Browns shocked the sports world by giving up on their own talented quarterback to land Deshaun Watson: a player with hall of fame talent and 22 civil lawsuits of sexual assault.
Now the player is facing an 11-game suspension. Which is a compromise. They could’ve lost him for the year.
Ethical purists would never have gone near the guy—and most of the league new better.
Most. Clearly not the Browns.
Years ago, a priest told me a story of interviewing at a big, successful church which had recently dealt with accusations and convictions of sexual assault by a musician. When he confronted them about it, how their own children may have been at risk, they looked at him plaintively: “but he is so talented.”
Most people, most of the time, aren’t blinded by talent. But when we are, it can be devastating to the lives of people around us.
Even though the Browns didn’t heed the old warning about talent, another one should have kicked in: Don’t take someone else’s headache. Let them keep it. The gamble is never worth it.