Participation Trophy!

By Rick Boettger

I just got my first one, for playing in a small chess tournament at the public library on Fleming.  I was middle of the pack, a great relief as I was worried I would win.

I’m 76, from a generation that didn’t give these out, so I had no idea how it would feel.  It was a surprise, offered at the last minute because we had a few young guys who are used to these things.

Seventy-six is an age of reflection, triggered today by the death of Ozzy Osbourne at my age.  Died 20 days after a final reunion concert of his Black Sabbath that raised $200 million for charity, quite a different honor I’d say.  It made me reflect upon my own humble awards, and how I might go out inspired by Ozzy’s blaze of glory.

The worldly accomplishment I’m most sincerely proud of in my life not only  gives no awards, or even participation trophies, but only the threat of personal ruin.  Frankly, it’s what I deserve, as I’ve been way too lucky the rest of the time.

It has taken me 50 years to realize my Basic Training medal is the one I’m now, finally, superficially proudest of, based on  how hard it is to get, and how much it truly reflects what’s best about me. It was the top award in my  850-man battalion, the American Spirit Honor Medal, for “the display of outstanding qualities of leadership best expressing the American spirit—honor, initiative, loyalty, and high example to comrades in arms.”

Well, that’s what the certificate says, but in fact it was for running with a fever until you drop, then getting up to complete the PT mile that day fresh back from sick call, falling four times, missing a turn in my delirium, being guided back to the course by my crusty Ddill sergeant, and finishing with a good time.  Technically, I had to get high scores on the other tests, and face an oral exam by five officers, but it was the never-quit toughness that carried the day, and has been the hallmark of everything successful I’ve done in my life.  It seems to me now, anyway.

Second place to me, but I’m sure most impressive to the world, was getting into Yale Law School, because of its high profile.  But that’s only half as hard as the Medal, and is mostly a measure of test-taking and grade-grubbing, which I’m good at, but not as proud of as the never-quit.  The close third was three years of a MacArthur International Peace Fellowship, $15k/year, in my PhD program.  I had to use the never-quit on top of the usual grant writing/grade grubbing skill because–surprise!–Cal’s first year fellowship of tuition and $15k turned into just tuition after that.  Not having to do 20 hours a week of TA’ing helped me get the degree in 3 years and 4 months, still a record at Haas for my field, so it’s worth the last spot on the podium.

So what is the worldly–that is, not kids and family–accomplishment I am most proud of, but which only earns threats to my life instead of awards or even casual praise?  My investigative journalism and civic  activism, often combined!  People generally hate “loose cannons” like us, and I want to counsel the young to go into it only AFTER, like me, you’ve got a string of Gold Stars from the outside world to sustain you through the abuse.

I’ve earned a dozen wins (tops were suing the City to keep the cemetery open to bikes, and nailing all five past county commissioners with a total of 19 ethics convictions) and about as many losses.

I got threats, but nothing worse than a car keying.  My biggest heroes have been thrown in jail: Edward Snowden, Bradley Manning, and Reality Winner (Snowden’s prison is Russia).  Our most admired living American, Barack Obama, prosecuted nine reporters of government lawbreaking, compared to three for all other Presidents combined. Obama did his best to jail people like me, and he, sadly, represents the huge majority of my fellow Americans.  So I’ve gotten off easy.

And I’m not whining.  We “loose cannons” are so proud of ourselves, I’d say that’s the REAL reason to hate us–suck on that, Ozzy!

PS–Consider this my Living Obituary.  Hulk Hogan just died at 71, so I’m getting nervous.

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