Some years ago I was an enthusiastic fan of greyhound dog racing. In a nutshell, if horse racing is the "sport of kings", dog racing is the "sport of slobs". Yes, readers, dog racing people are my kind of folks - hot dog in one hand, beer in the other and daily race lineups tucked in their armpits. These folks have an enthusiasm for the spectacle of dog racing which puts that of the Kentucky Derby to shame. Admittedly, dog racing fans lack the elegance of the horse racing crowd as there is nary a showy hat or a mint julep drink to be seen. Rather, the scene is more along the lines of John Deere hats worn backwards and 24-ounce plastic cups of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
My enthusiasm for dog racing was brought to a sudden halt one memorable August night. In one of the races, the pack of dogs was racing speedily toward the finish line cheered on by the beer-soaked crowd of ticket holders. There was an unfortunate pileup just after the finish line from which most of the animals escaped unscathed. There was one animal, however, which remained still long after the other dogs had wandered off to their respective handlers. A wheeled cart was brought out to tend to the injured animal and when the handler lifted the dog from the track it was plain to see that its body was lifeless. Unceremoniously, the deceased dog was placed on the cart and taken away.
The results of the race were posted on the tote board and there were shouts of enthusiasm from some of those in the crowd proclaiming the good fortunes of the lucky few who won some additional cash. Amidst the excitement of the winnings there was little attention paid to how the tote board described the deceased animal. It was listed as DNF - "did not finish." I pondered that for a long time and it accentuated the point that these animals were but economic assets to their owners. This particular animal had been given a new name.
It was DNF.
Along with the animal in question, my interest in greyhound dog racing died that August evening.
Fast forwarding to last Monday night. I was watching a football game between the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Cincinnati Bengals. A Steelers linebacker, Ryan Shazier, sustained what appeared to be a serious back injury. Much like the dog racing incident, a cart was wheeled out onto the field and he was taken away.
The game resumed.
The announcers and commentators were quick to point out that this is "part of the game" and we should all send "thoughts and prayers" for the injured player. Later on, the same comments flooded the lines of the many sports talk shows in between the comments about the fantastic game and the good, aggressive play of both teams. Three days later there was a minor mention on the sports page as to the fate of the young man who sustained the back injury. In short, it was a severe injury.
Like many NFL players who get carried off the field in a cart, this player's career could be over. But, from the team owner's perspective, there are backup players to take his place. After all, the team must look forward, not backward. Because these things, injuries and all, are part of the game.
And the injured player's future? The team owner may quietly rename him while importantly keeping the man in his thoughts and prayers. He will now be privately known as DNF.
Readers, enjoy your day.
