Fall and redemption of Becker and Wiggins show that sporting glory yields no purpose or meaning | Kath Bisschop

VViewed through one end of the lens, the two new autobiographies from sports legends Boris Becker and Bradley Wiggins may seem like classic tales of the downfall of two deeply flawed heroes who then fight their way back to redemption. But viewed through the other side of the lens, we see disturbing images of an extremely inhumane and sometimes unsafe sports world, where talent is not a salvation, but rather a risk.

There are striking similarities between the stories of two different characters, sports, countries and generations. Both went bankrupt. Both made bad choices and recognized their agency in their own demise. Both hit rock bottom and found themselves stripped of all dignity, whether it was in a prison cell or snorting cocaine in a toilet. Becker was convicted on four of the 24 counts by a British court and ended up in prison, surrounded by drug addicts. Wiggins writes that he was abused by his youth cycling coach and became addicted to cocaine after sports on a path that he himself admits could easily have ended up behind bars. Both suffered massive abandonment by trusted adults around them in positions of authority.

At just 17 years old, after winning Wimbledon and reaching the pinnacle of success, Becker feels desperately limited by others around him: “I live in a box… I have to enjoy what I do. I have to feel free. And that’s not allowed.” He describes this as “the moment everything changed. The moment my path was set.” Wiggins was failed from the start. Already ‘abandoned’ by his father who left home when he was two years old, he suffers the twisted torment of his youth coach who he claims sexually abused him, while at the same time being the person who made him believe in his abilities on the bike.

Wiggins’ story reminds us of the unequivocal need to keep children safe in sport, and how easily abusers can operate, especially on vulnerable children from unstable homes. Although this took place thirty years ago, stories of abuse in sports continue today. There is still no independent structure to set and enforce coherent standards for safe sport in this country, despite shifts in society in recent times that have led to the establishment of independent structures in sectors of education, the church and the creative industries.

As an adult, Wiggins continues to suffer with British Cycling and Team Sky. When he contacts Team Sky to admit: “I’m really struggling”, Wiggins claims he was told to “keep yourself together”. Dave Brailsford is like a brother to Wiggins in good times (that is, when he’s winning), but he’s quick to believe, “I was disposable to him. I felt like I could be rinsed of all usefulness and thrown in the trash with the rest of the trash.” His deeply destabilizing experiences of abandonment by his father appear to be devastatingly echoed by cycling’s top coach and leaders, where “the line between critical and derogatory was so blurred as to be meaningless.”

Our most vivid memories of these incredible athletes at their peak include images of ‘Becker the Wunderkind’ winning Wimbledon at the age of 17 and falling to his knees in disbelief and joy, and images of Wiggins sitting on a throne at Hampton Court Palace after winning Olympic time trial gold at the 2012 London Olympics. In their books, Becker and Wiggins share their own perspectives. Becker says, “If I hadn’t won Wimbledon at 17, I would never have experienced this,” while Wiggins explains how snorting cocaine off his Olympic medal was a deliberate act of “disrespecting this medal, this particular medal, because I blame the person I ended up with.” Wiggins says his “definitive answer” to the frequently asked question about what it’s like to win the Tour de France is: “It’s like taking drugs. It gives you everything you’ve ever asked for at that moment, but it takes so much more out of you.” It’s as far as you can get from the dream that talented young people in sports are promised.

Neither athlete finds purpose or meaning through sports. Becker’s motivation seems to center on wanting to make his opponent’s mother cry, and he quickly loses discipline and motivation when he stops winning. Later, in prison, he eagerly takes lessons on the Stoic philosophers in a course led by a central leading figure who runs the prison’s gym, filling a meaningful gap that the sport never filled. For Wiggins, cycling is an escape from “a lifelong lack of self-esteem,” but ultimately “sports glory can never erase scar tissue.” He lacks personal support during his sporting career, although reconnecting with his children and breaking his father’s parenting patterns, continuing friendship with Mark Cavendish and finding a new partner gradually help him progress.

Both athletes look back on moments of bitterness and jealousy towards key rivals: for Becker, it was Michael Stich who defeated him and shocked him out of his complacency in his last Wimbledon. They win historic Olympic gold for Germany playing doubles, but barely speak to each other and don’t celebrate the victory afterwards. For Wiggins, the distrust of Chris Froome is so great that Wiggins cannot be trusted as part of the Sky team to support Froome to win the Tour de France, despite his level of performance. Both Becker and Wiggins find immense comfort and much-needed resolution when these relationships are restored years later, with Stich writing a powerful, moving letter to Becker in prison, and Wiggins contacting Froome years later to make amends.

Zooming out, the loudest message from these stories is that deep, trusting relationships matter above all else. Trophies and medals don’t last: Becker sells his to pay off his mounting debts, and Wiggins smashes his Sports Personality of the Year trophy and knight’s box in front of his children because they only cause him “more grief.” To the extent that each of them has found redemption, it has largely come from relationships outside the world of sports, from trusted friends, genuine love and ultimately finding who they are outside of the sporting identity that has defined them for so long. Top sport is of course tough and none of these athletes dispute that. But it is difficult to look at these phenomenal athletes and accept these experiences as the necessary, even inevitable, “price of winning.” These are not stories that should inspire the next generation or strengthen sport’s ability to unlock human potential and strengthen fundamental social values. Sports are often described as the ability to change the world. But these stories – which must stand alongside many stories that will never be heard – show that the sport must first change itself if this is ever to be possible.

Guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply. Inside by Boris Becker (HarperCollins, £22). To order a copy for €19.80 go to Guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.