Jim Thorpe's story reminds us that Hall of Famers are human

One of life's frustrating mysteries is why injustice seems to act with impunity, but the arc of justice seems to take its sweet time showing up.

It took 110 years for the International Olympic Committee to set right the wrongs imposed on Jim Thorpe, the greatest American athlete of the 20th century.

Last month, the IOC restored Thorpe's gold medals in the pentathlon and the decathlon which he won during the 1912 Olympic Games in Stockholm, but were stripped in 1913.

Thorpe essentially was punished for being poor, which led to his playing two summers of semi-professional baseball as a student, negating his amateur status. Today, professional athletes have all but elbowed out amateurs from Olympic teams because winning — not the celebration of sport — has taken precedence.

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Born in the Oklahoma territory in 1887, Thorpe was a Sac & Fox whose indigenous name was Wa-Tho-Huk, or "Bright Path."  At 16, he enrolled in the Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Pennsylvania where he ran track and became a three-time All-American football star under legendary coach Glenn "Pop" Warner.

Among those who served as speed bumps on the football field were future President Dwight D. Eisenhower.

Like all of us, Jim Thorpe was imperfect

Like all of us, Thorpe was imperfect. Alcohol was the one opponent he couldn't defeat.

Frederick "Fritz" Pollard, who played and coached for the Akron Pros, said Thorpe initially was no more welcoming to Black players in professional football than others were. In a 2018 radio interview, Pollard's grandson said Thorpe came away from their meeting on the field a changed man.

True to his name, Thorpe also forged a bright path in Canton from leading the Canton Bulldogs to three world titles to becoming a founding father and president of the NFL, born Sept 17, 1920 at the corner of Cleveland Avenue and Third Street SW.

He excelled in Major League Baseball with a .252 batting average, playing for the then-New York Giants, Cincinnati Reds, Boston Braves, and even spent a season with the Toledo Mud Hens. He also played professional basketball.       

But when his playing days ended, Thorpe fell into poverty, working as a movie extra, security guard, bouncer, ditch digger and referee for professional wrestling matches. When he fell ill in 1950, he wound up in a charity ward. Even his death was swathed in indignity.

After he died in 1953, the governor of Oklahoma vetoed funds for a state memorial, though public money was granted for a Will Rogers memorial years before.

His body ended up in Pennsylvania in a merged town he never set foot in; a bizarre deal concocted by his third wife.

Gods among us

To their credit, the residents of Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania, have embraced their adopted namesake — but Thorpe's family in Oklahoma wants him back.

Too often, athletes are not permitted to be just people. We want them to be gods among us, then resent them for it. We point to their fame and their salaries as justification for our harassment and cruelty, and demand they shut up and play. Those who don't deliver are derided as being weak or soft.

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But everything exacts a price. Excellence in athletics sometimes comes at the expense of a person's inner life.

The Jim Thorpe lauded by kings and ticker tape parades is the same man who died a pauper's death and now rests in a strange place, far from home.

As we celebrate the enshrinement of eight NFL players this week, we'd do well to remember that being enshrined doesn't mean there hasn't been some brokenness along the way.

Jim Thorpe, Fritz Pollard, and the names which are about to be added to the roster are no better, no worse, than those who cheered them on. They're just human beings with all the same fears, failures and flaws as the rest of us.

Charita M. Goshay is a Canton Repository staff writer and member of the editorial board. Reach her at 330-580-8313 or charita.goshay@cantonrep.com. On Twitter: @cgoshayREP

This article originally appeared on The Repository: Jim Thorpe's story reminds us that Hall of Famers are human