By Shay Castle
[email protected]

I have no interest in writing an opinion piece about Charlie Sheen.

Being a working college student, I don’t have the time or desire to form an opinion about the latest drug-crazed celebrity. The only opinion I have is my opinion about other people’s opinion of Charlie Sheen.

But there was the assignment, up on the board for next issue’s story call: write an opinion piece about Charlie Sheen. Its very presence made me cringe. I wanted to know who was going to write that story, and what their judgment would be.

As it turned out, according to the opinion editor, no one had volunteered yet. The features editor jumped in with her thoughts on Sheen and his extracurricular activities. Turns out, she finds him hilarious. She follows him on Twitter just to keep up with all crazy axioms he spews.

In that instant, I knew I couldn’t let anyone else write this piece.

I had to save Charlie.

Many would argue that he doesn’t need to be saved, or even want to be. Andre Taylor, an engineering major, thinks that “he is faking everything,” presumably for the media attention.

A fair assessment, considering that Sheen has now planned a 20-show tour he’s billing as “My Violent Torpedo of Truth/Defeat is Not an Option.” The show has sold out in several venues, including the enormous Radio City Music Hall.

To think that people would pay as much as $80 to see, and $750 to meet, a drug-addicted celebrity is a sickening thought, at least to me.

Pre-meltdown, I defended Sheen’s antics. Cocaine and hookers are not my style, but I don’t begrudge them to anyone else. His lifestyle might have been questionable, but he seemed to be managing, and I could honestly enjoy a joke at his expense without remorse.

That was before he lost his job, putting his career, and those of his co-stars, in jeopardy.

According to Health Canada, the Canadian government-run health website, “drug use becomes a problem when use of a drug results in negative consequences for the person who uses the drug.”

Sheen has gone from use to abuse, and there is nothing funny about watching someone struggle down that long road. It ends only one of two ways, recovery or death.

As I walked around Valencia’s west campus listening to students’ opinions on Sheen, the word now synonymous with the man kept popping up: “Winning.”

The word has become his catchphrase. Say it in a crowded room and chances are someone will associate it with Sheen. But Charlie Sheen is not “winning.”

Winning is recovery. Winning is a steady job and healthy relationships. Winning is relying on friends and family to help you overcome a powerful addiction.

As long as people continue to encourage his antics by following him on Twitter and buying tickets to laugh at his drug-fueled ranting, he will never be winning. Sheen needs to take that all-important, and nearly impossible, first step; admit that he has a problem. There is no way he can move forward when his focus is on performing for fans who paid to see him high and incoherent.

I know that Sheen has made his choices, and I bear no responsibility to him or his recovery, except that which every human being owes to one another: to be decent, kind, and empathic, and to wish the best for someone in a terrible situation.

Although she was speaking ironically, nursing major Edita Sehic summed up my hope for Charlie Sheen when she spoke of him:

“I think he’s going to end up winning.”