I think money in general hurts all sports.

Hear now the solemn words of Will McDonough, the voice of sport and truth, who declared: “I think money in general hurts all sports.” Though short, these words strike with the weight of iron, for they reveal the eternal danger of gold: that what begins in purity and passion may be corrupted by the lust for wealth. Sport, born in the fire of competition, in the innocence of play, in the sacred striving of body and soul, risks being consumed by the hunger for profit. McDonough’s words are a warning to all generations, that the crown of sport must be honor, not coin.

The meaning of this teaching is clear. Money, though necessary in the world of men, has the power to twist the heart of sport from its true purpose. Where once the athlete played for glory, for pride, for the love of the game, now many are tempted to play for contracts, endorsements, and riches. The purity of competition fades beneath the shadow of profit. Teams become corporations, players become commodities, and fans become customers. Thus the joy of sport, the laughter on the fields, the simple delight of striving with others, is diminished.

Consider the ancient games of Olympia, where athletes competed not for gold or silver, but for a crown of olive leaves, a symbol of honor and victory. The prize was small in material worth, yet priceless in glory. But as time passed, wealth entered the games, and with it corruption—bribery, cheating, and the loss of noble spirit. So too today, McDonough reminds us that when money becomes the master of sport, honor becomes its servant.

The history of boxing offers a grim example. Once called the “noble art,” it became ensnared by promoters, gamblers, and profiteers. Fighters were often exploited, their health sacrificed for the greed of others. Matches were fixed, champions bought and sold. The sport that once embodied courage and discipline became scarred by the lust for money. Here we see McDonough’s truth: that money in general hurts all sports, for it places profit above principle, and spectacle above spirit.

Yet we must not be naïve. Money itself is not evil; it can provide stadiums, equipment, and opportunity for athletes who might otherwise be forgotten. But when it ceases to serve sport and instead makes sport its servant, destruction follows. The balance is fragile, and the temptation is great. Thus McDonough’s words are not only lament, but a call to vigilance—that leaders, athletes, and fans must guard the heart of sport, lest it be consumed by greed.

The deeper lesson is for all of life, not sport alone. Money, if allowed, can corrupt art, friendship, politics, even love. The danger is not in wealth itself, but in its power to distract the heart from what is true and noble. Just as athletes must remember why they first played—for joy, for honor, for challenge—so too must we remember why we labor, why we strive, why we live. If our only prize is gold, our soul is impoverished. But if our prize is honor, service, and growth, then even with little, we are rich.

Therefore, O children of tomorrow, take McDonough’s warning as a guiding torch: treasure sport, and life itself, for what they truly are. Do not sell your passion for profit, nor let your joy be enslaved by greed. Play for the love of the game, work for the dignity of effort, and live for the honor of truth. For in the end, money fades, but character endures. Let this be the legacy of your life—that you sought not wealth alone, but greatness of spirit.

So let McDonough’s words be remembered across generations: the true value of sport is not in money, but in honor. Guard this truth, and both the athlete and the soul will remain free.