4. Seau and Caminiti

thesis question: Did my heroes defraud me?

Born and raised in the town of Oceanside, the northern tip of San Diego County, I had two local heroes  growing up: Ken Caminiti and Junior Seau.

Ken Caminiti

Caminiti, or Cami as locals called him, was the living legend of the San Diego Padres. The mid-nineties was a perfect time to be a young boy idolizing baseball stars. Between McGwire, Sosa, Bonds and Johnson, little boys nationwide saw goliath-sized heroes sprouting up in nearly every town. Cami was ours.

The San Diego Padres acquired Cami in a blockbuster trade with the Houston Astros after the 94 season. By 1996, our Friars, a team that had been full of "dumb bunnies" (a phrase my Mother liked to use for useless players) my whole life, made the playoffs. They did so on the back of their 3rd base star, who hit 40 home runs, ate a Snickers bar before every game, and three times, yep, three times hit a home run from both sides of the plate in one game. At the time, that'd never been done before.

In 1996, as I turned 10, the Padres reached the playoffs for the first time in my life and Ken Caminiti was named the National League MVP. If anyone doubted Cami's worthiness of that award, that person needed only to be directed to this insane highlight.

I went to every game I could the next couple of years. One night, my family went to "Christian Night" at the stadium. Everything was normal, just a regular night game, except after the game a half dozen Padres came out and gave their testimonies to the faithful fans who wished to merge their beliefs with their sports heroes. Caminiti gave a speech. I don't recall what he said, but he made it clear he loved Jesus. This enshrined him forever in my child mind as a true hero; a behemoth of virtue on and off the field.

Then, in 98, the Padres reached the World Series. It was the most glorious time ever to be a Padres fan. All our days were marvels. Our humble team was facing the Yankees -- the titans of the sport. Our little Friars had accomplished something unforgettable, and Cami was leading our warrior pack. 

After we lost the Series, a horrible, if not predictable, event occurred. Our beloved hero was traded. We knew dark times were upon us as our savior of third departed from our midst. This began a bad era for the Padres, but also marked the beginning of the end of Mr. Caminiti's life.

It was clear that Caminiti's body was breaking down -- he barely lasted two more seasons before calling it quits in 2001. But oh well, not every player can maintain life as a baseball star. I only hoped that he was enjoying retirement. 

With the 2000s came the steroids controversy. Cami's name stood in front of the pack. In 2002 he admitted to Sports Illustrated that he used steroids during his MVP season. That same year his wife divorced him. He started bouncing in and out of rehab centers. In 2004 he overdosed while taking a speedball, a mix of heroin and cocaine. What an idiot. 

His autopsy reported that his "overly enlarged heart" was partially to blame for his death. 

It didn't appear to me that his heart was big at all. 

Junior Seau

Seau's story hits even closer to home. I used to brag to my friends that local legend Junior Seau used to cheat off my big sis' tests in high school. His jersey was the only recognizable name that hung at my alma mater. Seau came from my town… and he grew up to be one of the most dominant linebackers in NFL history. Even better than that, he played his best years for the San Diego Chargers, leading them to their only Super Bowl in 1994. 

I've read that the average NFL player stays in the league for 3.5 seasons. Seau played for twenty. He retired in 2010 as a beloved football player, and an adored local hero. I got his autograph when I was 11. I kept the autograph in a place of honor. The autograph is still on display in my old room in my parents' home. 

Seau retired in 2010. He shot himself in the chest on May 2nd, 2012. 

What do I do with that? 

Worse still, an autopsy showed that he suffered from CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy), which is a brain disease closely linked to concussions. Did the NFL kill him? -- Well… I don't know.

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What do we do when our local heroes are made into monsters? What do we do when our heroes are made miserable by the very thing that made them legends in the first place?

Should I disavow the NFL? Should I not watch, knowing that the sport is more akin to gladiator games than anything else? 

The Chargers made the playoffs this year. I was SO excited. And again, I found my specific heroes on the field… but maybe they should receive more of my pity and less of my adulation. Maybe that would help things. Maybe Caminiti and Seau didn't have to die. Maybe things could have been different. Maybe my heroes could have been heroes in other people's lives, in other ways. Maybe they could have been firefighters. Maybe they should have been. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Damn.