By: Bennett Fuson <[email protected]>

Gossip: the fastest news syndication system around. It spreads like wildfire and delivers the “make-or-break” dirty details about various people. But gossip chooses to dominate girl culture and stay away from men’s lives. Or so I thought.

I play football for this school, and there are two words that are more profane than that word like “fire truck,” but missing some middle letters: staph infection. Staph infection is a skin irritation marked by little red bumps that turn into pus-like sores that plague athletic teams and can sideline whoever it happens to touch, be it the best varsity or worst junior varsity player. Tri-West High School in Hendricks County had to forfeit their game against South Putnam High School because most of Tri-West’s players had staph infection.

Staph infection spreads two ways: human contact, and not washing our uniforms. The latter is easily preventable, yet due to the lazy, apathetic attitude players have, uniforms don’t get cleaned as often as they should and the infestation begins. Having staph infection is like being that kid in third grade with the really geeky sweater. You just don’t want to be him.

Right before the first game of the season, I started to notice a few little red bumps on my knee. I was unfortunate enough to contract staph infection last year during a massive outbreak and knew the signs. Not wanting to put any of my teammates or myself at risk, I sought help from the training staff, got it medicated and bandaged, and went on my way. The little red bumps, fortunately, never evolved into staph.

Happy ending, right? Oh no, my friends, the story hasn’t begun yet.

A week later, my teammate started getting red bumps up and down his arm. A lot of them. Two other players also started showing signs that they were infected.

This should have had no effect on me. I had prevented my outbreak, and by doing so, I figured that it had been contained. I hadn’t touched anyone, especially making contact between my knee and their arms. But two of the players that contracted the infection had lockers next to mine.

Naturally, my two locker-neighbors and teammates were upset. Both infected players had to sit out one practice and make hasty appointments to visit doctors in order to find treatment. But, as human nature intends them to do, they did not think they caused the problem.

I don’t know which one started talking, due to many less-than-accurate accounts, but one of these two teammates started saying I was the reason he contracted staph infection. He probably meant no harm; frustration can get to the best of men. Regardless, though, his one statement started a ripple effect. The day after he found out he had staph, I began to receive a bombardment of inquiries by other teammates. Some were sympathetic or questioning, others were rather opinionated statements that involved me staying a certain distance from them. In short, I became ground zero, the breeding ground of the infection that I had tried so hard to avoid.

I was shocked. It was as though the football field had become the women’s restroom during a passing period, judging by the level of whispered conversations and dirty looks. Out of all people, surely football players would be above petty gossip. Seeing to the fact that we had more important things to worry about, wasn’t it kind of juvenile and “girly” to be gossiping over who may or may not have a case of staph infection?

While my time spent as a gossip subject didn’t last long, it opened my eyes to what other people have to deal with everyday.

It’s not that gossip is a bad thing on the whole. Some gossip could possibly help in the long run (the kids from “Laguna Beach” taught me that), and Lord knows it can sell a lot of magazines.

But gossip here is used too much, too often and too out of context. As interested as I am to know who hooked up with who every five-ish minutes (I’m kidding, by the way), enough is enough. While there might be a small percent of gossip that has done good in this world, the rest of it is just wasted breath.

Being the center of attention is not always a good thing, especially if it’s for something bad that you might not have done. Sure it might be fun to talk about someone, especially about the shortcomings of that person; it’s only human. But it should still be avoided, since that type of conversation can lead to the downfall of that person’s reputation.

So here’s my advice, in the infinite wisdom that I imagine I possess. Do what your mom told you when you were five: “if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”