“Does a just revenge exist? It doesn’t exist, but you’re a man, and vengeance cries out in your blood” – Primo Levi
Revenge, retribution, payback, whatever you want to call it. It lies heavy on the skin during these days.
I am not going to argue if revenge is wrong or right, but rather acknowledge the undeniable fact that it is a driving force that, although not always acknowledged, burns with a slow, searing anguish.
In baseball etiquette, when a pitcher plants a fastball in the batter’s ribs he is setting up a subsequent bulls-eye on the hitters of his own team. If the Jagrs, Turgeons, and Modanos are checked too forcefully in the corners, the looming shadow of the team enforcer will soon find its way to the aggressor. As many can attest, a bad check will inevitably draw the debt collector. But in the hockey example it is a Canadian with an iron right hand, not a skinny guy with a moustache.
Actions speak louder than words, and honor takes on paramount importance. While honor and dignity must be defended, this defense can become disturbingly pro-active and enjoyable.
Yet revenge can not be viewed as a positive or constructive force. It settles scores and but it inherently reaches backwards, into the past. Revenge does not solder, it saws.
Revenge is imperfect human reasoning, but on a different level it rises like hot steam from the sanguine depths of the human body. Generally speaking, when a team falls in defeat they graciously salute the victor but do not forget the outcome. Everyone enjoys having the last word. This holds true in the arena of sports, where rivalries run deep and grudges of yesterday resurface in the games of today.
I remember how our club soccer team fell several years in a row in the finals to Missoula. We hated them, routinely cracked jokes about their abnormalities, and later came to learn that they were actually pretty cool guys to hang out with. (Some of them, anyway.)
When a boxer wins a title bout it seems almost mandatory that he schedule a rematch against his opponent. After Hasim Rahman knocked out Lennox Lewis last year, Lewis sought excuses and demanded another fight.
“Today, Rock woke up the lion within me,” Lewis said after a recent skirmish between the two. “Now I’m going to crush the Rock in the ring, regain my belt and bring some dignity back to the heavyweight crown.”
That is why revenge is so dangerous, in sports and in the other facets of life. How far must one go in avenging? In the heat of passion how does one determine the exact point at which justice has been served? But at the same time, who am I to criticize revenge? It is easy to abstractly discuss the negative consequences. Yet when one is personally involved, logic runs dry, emotions interfere, and the bell tolls loudly in a call to action.
The very word “revenge” stems in part from the Latin word vindicare: to vindicate. Yet I see a subtle difference between the two terms. Revenge tries to hurt, inflict damage, or destruct, not merely even the playing field. Quite frankly, revenge often equals excessive retaliation. In this escalating cycle neither side can ever be satisfied until one of the two winds up incapacitated.
After falling a foot short in a memorable Super Bowl match up against the Rams, the Tennessee Titans refuse to move on. In a routine, fairly meaningless preseason game last year, the Titans unleashed their leftover fury on the bewildered Rams, burying them by a score of 37-0. The game did not count in the standings, but the message rang clear. So much for a new season and a fresh start, those clich‚s fall off the train like ice slabs on a southbound train when pride and memory have any say in the matter.
And to be sure, when the Washington University football team takes on the University of Chicago Maroons this year, more than just that single game will be at stake. Bitter memories linger from a hard-fought 13-12 defeat that knocked the Bears out of playoff contention. Rest assured that this will be mentioned, in one way or another, in Larry Kindbom’s pre-game speech.
In tough times humans react in a variety of manners to avoid that yellow pill of defeat. How lucky we are to have opportunities at payback; and how cursed that we instinctively grasp with viselike fingers at the warm gun of retaliation.
My feelings on the subject are mixed, but I know that revenge must not take the form of imitation. Motivation is fine, but be careful what is committed behind the black cape of revenge.