What is honor? How do we define it? More importantly, perhaps, is how do we practice or hold it? According to one of the many versions of Webster’s, honor is “high regard or respect, glory, fame, good reputation, or adherence to principles considered right, integrity.” Most of us seem capable of recognizing honor when we witness it, and fewer of us appear equipped to routinely practice it. For many, an honorable person is one who is worthy of praise, but for some, a person of honor deserves derision for being so “old fashioned and hidebound.” In a sense I believe that the latter view is the most prevalent in our nation today.
People of true character and honor often intimidate others. The light of their rectitude casts shadows on their peers. As a nation we have cherished our honorable heroes although there has been a cottage industry of historians who have tried to crumble their feet of clay. The difficulty with praising or admiring a person of honor is that we are not privy to their innermost thoughts, their daily actions or their unguarded moments. Honorable people might not always be honorable. Just as brave people are identified during times of stress and danger, honorable people should be measured by their commitment to principle when the opposition is the greatest. Bullies are not honorable, but when the moment arrives, they can be. Cowards are generally unworthy of honor, but if they rise to face the foe courageously, they can acquire honor. If one does one’s duty, is it honorable, or must one perform an extraordinary act of valor?
This column was germinated because of the resignation of a football coach. Not a President, nor a military leader or a prominent legislator….a football coach. A man whom I respect has resigned under a cloud of suspicion. I’ve always believed him to be an honorable person…a man of high principle and integrity. Some rules were broken by a few of his players, and he supposedly failed to report the infractions to his supervisors. Pundits and other players have speculated that he was seeking to protect the wayward players from “facing the music,” but the deeds were discovered, the story was transmitted far and wide, and the coach must now take the hit. The players, thus far, have been levied a five game suspension for their misdeeds. The coach resigned because of his apparent cover-up. Ever since Watergate we’ve been told that the cover-up is greater than the original transgression. In a sense that may be true. Clearly, breaking additional laws or rules should compound the penalty, but prosecutors, persecutors and pundits too often appear to ignore the guilty rabbit in order to chase the fresh scent.
In some situations the leader who risks his reputation for his squad would be lauded. The dynamic changes however when the squad is composed of young men with a sense of entitlement who have no financial resources. The scenario becomes murky, then dark when an infraction of a rule is hidden to save the images of the players….and perhaps the coach. A similar action by the coach in a different context would be praised as an act of honor. This time the act has been condemned, and the coach has left a post that he cherished. The line between honor and disgrace is a very thin one.
Just as the revisionist historians demean our heroes and deflate their reputations, so too will the story of the coach and his cover-up be written in tabloid fashion. History is never perfect because history cannot be precisely written. When eye witnesses disagree about a recent event, how can we expect the historian to “get it right” after time has passed? Will the coach’s honor be restored or upheld at some later date by a friendly author? No, because we rightfully distrust the accuracy of authors, historians and politicians. The coach’s legacy has been chiseled into the stone of memories. I continue to believe that he is an honorable man. I do not question his integrity. He made the wrong decision, and he and his reputation will forever be tainted.
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