A new Cleveland "Plain Dealer" column...
NFL quarterback Michael Vick pleads guilty to running a brutal and illegal dogfighting ring.
Former NBA referee Tim Donaghy pleads guilty to felony gambling charges.
Barry Bonds breaks Hank Aaron's home-run record under a cloud of suspicion, a week after Browns lineman Ryan Tucker becomes a footnote in a long line of jocks caught doping this summer.
And Olympic speedskating gold medalist Joey Cheek stands alone in front of the Chinese Embassy in Washington, trying to end a genocide.
Or didn't you notice?
On July 26, the same hot afternoon [that] Vick lied about his involvement in dogfighting outside a Virginia courtroom, Cheek rang the doorbell of the Chinese Embassy.
He was delivering a petition with 42,000 signatures, asking China to do something about the slaughter of thousands by Sudanese militias.
With the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing 11 months away, Cheek knew [that] the timing was right, and with thousands perishing at the hands of Sudanese-backed militias, time is of the essence.
Between 200,000 and 450,000 villagers have been murdered in the Darfur region of Sudan and in neighboring Chad. Thousands more have been beaten and raped.
The genocide, as the U.S. government calls it, has caused more than 2.5 million people to flee and become homeless. Most of them are in refugee camps in neighboring Chad, completely dependent on international aid, some of which cannot be delivered because of the militias who also attack aid workers.
Cheek went to the Chinese because their government is Sudan's primary diplomatic sponsor, and its largest weapons provider and trade partner. Most believe [that] China is unwilling to take a larger role in the crisis because of its dependency on Sudanese oil.
With so much at stake, that's why the mild-mannered North Carolina native waited stoically for 35 minutes in the Washington heat, until the Embassy doors opened.
"I walked in, and I stayed in the lobby, and was not invited in for tea or coffee," Cheek said in a recent phone interview. "The emissaries said, 'China is working behind the scenes, and we've done some things already, and this is an internal issue. We hope [that] you won't politicize the Olympics.'"
Cheek replied [that] the Darfur issue dovetails with the Olympic ideal - protecting women and children and promoting peace. Cheek asked if he could take an international group of athletes from China, Europe, North America, and Africa to Darfur, and show the world that this can be resolved.
"He didn't shoot it down," Cheek said. "He said [that] it was an interesting idea. We'll see what happens."
Cheek, who carried the U.S. flag at the closing ceremony of the Torino Winter Olympics last year, knows full well [that] the Olympic charter says [that] the games should be about sport, not politics.
"There's nothing that goes further against that charter than where you have millions of people who have been driven out of their homes by their own government and [have] been gunned down by helicopter ships and armed groups," he said. "We're talking about the right to find firewood without being beaten and raped by militia groups."
I first met Cheek in Turin, Italy, moments after he won his gold medal. In a stunning press conference, he announced [that] he was donating his $25,000 medal bonus from the United States Olympic Committee to a charity called Right to Play, which is helping children of Sudanese refugees. Thoughtful and devoid of pretense, Cheek became for me the symbol of what Olympians should be, but often were not in Turin.
He called upon Olympic sponsors to match his donation, which after he won a silver medal totaled $40,000. His gesture raised more than $600,000.
Cheek, who retired from a skating career that rarely paid more than $50,000 per year, could have used the money to pay for college. He'd been accepted to Princeton. Instead, he made the most of his proverbial 15 minutes of fame for a good cause. After landing on some morning talk shows and even the cover of Wheaties boxes, it seemed [that] his work was done.
Then he went to Darfur for the first time. Amid a sea of suffering people, the Olympic champion never felt more helpless.
"I discovered, 'Wow, I've been spending most of my time working and talking about this, and there's been some positive times, but there's still people dying by the hundreds and thousands.' I had to take the next step," Cheek said.
He founded "Where Will We Be?" an organization that asks international athletes, especially those who will compete in Beijing, to "direct a spotlight - strengthened by cooperation - onto the greatest tragedy of the present day."
The U.N. and Sudan announced peace talks earlier this month [October], a forward step. However, an agreement reached with some rebel groups last year has been largely ignored, and the new talks do not yet include some of the major rebel groups needed to make peace. Cheek enrolled at Princeton as a 28-year-old freshman this month, and he knows [that] his public cache is fading while the issue burns. He hopes [that] his organization can carry momentum beyond Beijing. His Web site - wherewillwebe.org - also has a place for college, high-school, and recreational athletes to "join the fight."
Cheek is just one world-class athlete who realizes [that] there's a world of hurt beyond his circle of glory. He wishes [that] sport would shed the cynical baggage [that] it carries like a sherpa, and regain more social value beyond entertainment.
"We're playing games, and we're not curing cancer here, but any time [that] someone looks up to you, you have an opportunity to do something amazing," he said.
Cheek already has. If only we were paying attention.
Social change for the next generation
Young girl with infant child at refugee camp in Darfur. Photo by Dan Scandling, Office of U.S. Representative Frank Wolf