Harrison joins a long line of departed icons

Marvin Harrison -- the latest to go of a dying breed.

It’s September. Marvin Harrison sits in the locker room. He laces up his cleats, puts on his pads and prepares to begin his 14th season in the NFL. He runs out of the tunnel and onto the sideline. He sets up on the line of scrimmage spread out wide as he always has. But that’s not Peyton Manning throwing to him. Dallas Clark isn’t next to him either. Neither is Reggie Wayne, Joseph Addai. In fact, nobody with a horseshoe on their helmet is even visible.

Meanwhile, in Boston, John Smoltz is putting the finishing touches on his 22nd season in the major leagues. But that familiar Atlanta Braves insignia on his cap has been replaced with a Boston “B.” Trevor Hoffman too is entering the field of play, but Petco Park is thousands of miles west tonight. Hoffman now makes his home in Milwaukee.

Speaking of homes, Dwyane Wade and LeBron James, the current faces of their respective francises, still don’t know where theirs are. Could it be New York? Los Angeles? Boston?

It should be a no-brainer.

Whatever happened to the good old days when players stuck with their teams for life? If you bought a ticket to a Miami Dolphin’s game, Dan Marino was starting at quarterback. In the Bronx, thousands of fans would pack the stadium and know that Lou Gehrig was playing first base. And in Los Angeles, you could be damn sure that Magic Johnson would be draining his shots for the Lakers.

But that’s not such a guarantee anymore. With Marvin Harrison’s release from the Colts, the team he has spent his entire football life with, it pushes the group of “lifers” closer to extinction.

As money and business dominate the sporting industry more than the games themselves, it breeds a new generation of players, more concerned with getting their big pay-day than remaining loyal. Jackie Robinson chose to quit baseball rather than play for the hated Giants, but Johnny Damon chose a loaded Yankees contract rather than stay with the Boston franchise who adored him.

In Harrison’s case, he refused to take a pay-cut, so Indy cut him instead.

Does an extra few million make that much of a difference? Sure, to you and me it’s more money than we can dream about, but to athletes, it’s not exactly the difference between eating and starving to death.

If a particular organization and its fan-base show you the love, respect and sometimes obsessiveness that accompanies sports, are you not obligated to return the favor (minus the obsessiveness perhaps)? I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to be a Packer fan watching Brett Favre suit up for the Jets. I would much rather have seen Favre retire a Packer than try and squeak out one more season with New York (which of course culminated in his embarassment on national television).

And this is only what has already happened. Imagine what the future holds. Can you see Derek Jeter in a Dodger uniform? Kobe Bryant in a Bulls uniform? It’s unfathomable (well, the latter almost wasn’t).

I fear we have seen the last of the “lifers” and that loyalty in professional sports is slowly eroding away.

What a shame.