Is the Pope Catholic?

Having struggled a few years in the ego ether of sports journalism, I learned not to expect much from the athletes I interviewed.

Professional athletes, in general, have a pretty high opinion of themselves, as I suppose is to be expected from anyone who has summitted the pinnacle of their respective sports. So most of the international and national soccer stars I interviewed had only a vague idea that there may be people out there who didn’t know they existed. We’ll call these ignorant fans the infidels, those who have yet to accept (fill in the blank) as god’s gift to the pitch, court, field, etc., or as their sport’s lord and savior. Superstars look at these ignorant masses with disdain. How can you NOT see that I am wonderful?

A relative of mine once warned me to prepare for great disappointment if I were ever in a position to meet my heroes. You would meet a superstar, wide-eyed and hopeful, only to see him spit venom at some young waitress until she cried/quit, or maybe you’d meet a man you admired for his apparent humanitarian efforts only to discover that he was a coke addict and a colossal douchebag. But you get my point. People let you down. And stars, well, let’s say that stars tend to play out like the opening of CSI-Miami. At first, it’s flashy and beautiful, palm trees and string bikinis, then some asshole takes his sunglasses off and says something like, “You know what they say, Frank, speed kills” and then you know, this is going to suck.

It is a rarity in these morally tepid times, when fans sometimes can’t tell the difference between rap sheets and roster sheets, to meet a superstar that doesn’t let you down in some way or another. But twice in my career as a soccer journalist, I met personal heroes who not only didn’t let me down, but earned my adulation of them 10-fold. The first star was Pele, who was every bit the gentlemen and ambassador that the media portray him as, and the second just announced his retirement from MLS – Eddie Pope.

I met Eddie Pope some years ago in North Carolina, when he was a member of DC United. His club was participating in a friendly with the now-defunct Miami Fusion to drum up support for a MLS expansion team in the state. Being a native of High Point, NC, Pope was a logical poster boy for the event and was therefore hounded by the local press for opinions on the possibility of expansion: Would the NASCAR-crazy North Carolinians embrace soccer? Would they have to play on a college field? Would their crest feature tobacco leaves? And the questions continued. Pope seldom smiled during the barrage but didn’t look uncomfortable or upset. He handled the reporters like he handled opposing forwards, calmly, confidently, expertly shifting his weight to change their direction. He spoke clearly and answered every question, no matter how asinine.

When I was finally able to get some one-on-one time, I introduced myself and shook his hand. I was more interested in asking him about United, who were nearing the nose-dive following their dynastic run in the first four years of Major League Soccer. As he answered the typical questions about team chemistry and whether United had lost that thing that made them special, he spoke quietly, about his teammates and how much he valued them, not in the way that most pros do, with an emphasis on how wonderful they are because they pass ME the ball. And although I pressed him on certain issues of coaching and strange line-ups and personality conflicts, he didn’t evade the questions but he kind of rose above them, answering each politely and carefully. He was neither condescending nor arrogant. He was classy. Absolutely classy, in a way that I hadn’t seen before and haven’t seen since. Eddie Pope is what every father should want his son to grow up to be.

Younger fans may forget that Eddie Pope is the best defender the U.S. has ever produced, a fact that got him 82 caps and 12 seasons in MLS. And the accolades for this first-ballot Hall of Famer piled up in those years: 3 MLS Cups with United, 10-time MLS All-Star, MLS Defender of the Year in 1997, a four-time member of the Best XI squad, and twice the recipient of his team's Humanitarian of the Year award. His international play was also distinguished, having been a major part of the U.S.’s most successful showing in the World Cup history in 2002. And if not for a dubious red card in the ’06 WC that kept him sidelined in game three, things might have gone differently against Ghana as well.

In this sporting landscape littered with the mug shots of sports celebrities gone bad, it would be a disgrace if the soccer community, for which he did so much, did not honor the achievements of “Steady Eddie” properly. A tribute match is certainly in order at season’s end or during the All-Star break, but I feel like he deserves more. He needs to be singled out by the media and fans, as an example of what a pro athlete can and should be. His accomplishments should be celebrated and retirement lamented by former and current teammates, coaches, friends and family. And the whole thing should be televised on ESPN. Then, they can go back to covering the next pro athlete drug bust, doping allegation or assault charge. But for a moment we should honor one of the truly great ones, a quiet man who did his job better than anyone and expected no laurels or celebrity. Eddie Pope was truly world class.

Am I saying he's infallible? Well, he is the Pope.

Eddie retires (AP)