We Are in a Golden Age of Athletes Not Caring

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What do you do for a living? Hopefully you like it, find it fulfilling, get paid well for it, all the good stuff. But I’ll bet you also wish it wasn’t such a dominant force in your life that you thought about all the time. If that’s true, I’ll also bet you didn’t know that you have something in common with many of the best athletes on the planet, who are becoming very open about the fact that their work—despite the riches and respect that come with it—is still work.

That’s right. Athletes across America’s major sports have made one thing hyper clear recently, and we are both bemused and inspired by it: They do not care! This is not meant to be a blanket statement covering all athletes. But recency bias is a hell of a drug, and this past weekend gave us several examples of high-profile sports figures going full shrug emoji.

First up, we have controversial Angels third baseman Anthony Rendon. For the last four years, Rendon has been paid beyond handsomely to do very little. After the 2019 season, the hapless Los Angeles Angels gave him a back-loaded, seven-year, $245 million contract, hoping he could partner with Mike Trout and Shohei Ohtani to finally bring a winner to Orange County. Instead, COVID significantly shortened his first year with the team, he got hurt in 2021, then he got hurt in 2022, and he followed that up by getting hurt again in 2023. Undergoing hip and wrist surgeries in back-to-back years and then fracturing a shin with a foul ball is nobody’s idea of fun. Rendon surely did not mangle his body on purpose. But a certain kind of fan is quick to assert that he is “stealing money” from his employer.

But Rendon further inflamed those purse-watching fans when he reported to spring training this year with a semi-hot take about being a baseball player.

“It’s never been a top priority for me,” Rendon calmly stated, the same way he might respond to a question about maintaining a skincare routine. “This is a job. I do this to make a living. My faith and my family come first before this job. So, if those things come before it, I’m leaving.” Let me just say: hell yeah. If this was somebody you know working an office job, you’d wholeheartedly agree. The fact that it’s a public-facing multimillionaire whose job is televised complicates things.

The great people of Anaheim are totally within their rights to want Rendon to succeed. Let me just counter with this: It’s his life, not yours. True enlightenment is wanting your favorite player to be happy, rather than wanting them to suffer for greatness on the playing field. As for those crying about how much cash he’s grifted away from the Angels, I will remind you that they are a billion-dollar franchise and it’s not your money. Also, saying “I do not wish this life upon anybody, obviously it has its perks” about an existence spent playing baseball is one of the funniest things anybody has ever said.

Before you think that this mindset is just affecting baseball players—whose 162-game schedule makes them ideal burnout candidates—let’s dissect some of the behavior from NBA All-Star Weekend. Giannis Antetokounmpo, one of the best to ever do it, is not exactly tuned all the way in. “I just, in general, do not watch basketball,” he said. “Stats, highlights, how people play? I have no idea. And I love it.” Beautiful. Poetic, even. There’s a whole world out there! It’s not just jump shots and slam dunks. Giannis understands.

Finally, we had the actual All-Star Game, which has morphed into a fantastically uncompetitive exhibition game—much to the consternation of commissioner Adam Silver and an army of Twitter warriors. The weekend brought a corresponding wave of theories about how to fix the game. Unless cash prizes are offered—the best solution outside of exposing the losing team’s messy social media habits—we will never see defense in the All-Star Game again. That’s totally fine.

The joy of the All-Star Game, and of any exhibition game, really, is watching the players have some low-stakes fun for once. Where else are you going to see Luka Doncic try (and fail) to throw himself an alley-oop off the backboard? In a real, competitive NBA game, that’d get him benched. In the All-Star Game, it’s exactly what he’s supposed to be doing. For those who want to see this game injected with some real competition again, guess what? That’s what the actual season is for! There are 2,460 games every year, and that doesn’t even include the playoffs, when the competition is at its best. You can get your fix there. Unless, of course, you’re an Angels fan.

Originally Appeared on GQ