Two incidents in the sports world caught my eye this week, and while their circumstances were entirely different, I think they're two sides of the same coin:

The first was Josh Hamilton's self-reported relapse in his recovery from alcohol and cocaine addiction - for an incisive read on that topic I'd recommend Jonathan Bernhardt's column at The Guardian. The second was ESPN sideline reporter Britt McHenry's verbal tirade against a towing company clerk.

What struck me most about Hamilton's situation is Angels management was disappointed he wasn't suspended and believes he should be accountable for his relapse. But it seems Hamilton was accountable as he turned himself in almost immediately, and there's no evidence his relapse significantly compromised his readiness for the 2015 season (he's slated to miss most, if not all, of April with a shoulder injury.) By contrast, the Angels - who as Bernhardt points out possibly leaked Hamilton's relapse illegally (we don't know for sure it was they who leaked it, but they had the motive and opportunity) - want to skirt responsibility of paying him the $30 million they owe in both 2016 and 2017.

While there was allegedly language in the deal voiding the contract should Hamilton relapse, that language is potentially superseded by the Joint Drug and Collective Bargaining Agreements. Essentially, the Angels have one standard for Hamilton, i.e., admit what you did and give back the money, and another for themselves, i.e., try at all costs to avoid paying Hamilton the agreed-upon money even if it involves vilifying him publicly about a private matter and even if the language in the deal is on dubious legal grounds.

I'm all for Hamilton taking responsibility, am glad he admitted his relapse and even see a case for him giving back some small portion of the money as a good-faith gesture, acknowledging his transgression and the language in the contract - assuming it exists and he agreed to it (even if it's not legally binding.) In return, I'd like to see Angels GM Jerry Dipoto, president John Carpino and owner Arte Moreno hold themselves to the same standard. That would likely mean: (1) Admit Hamilton's failure was actually their failure - he might have relapsed, but they signed him knowing he was a recovering addict; (2) Increase payroll by an amount commensurate with Hamilton's underperformance to ensure their fans have the product that was promised; (3) For Dipoto and Carpino (to the extent they were responsible for that deal) to consider resigning given the undue risks they took with the team's finances; and (4) To find out who, if anyone in the organization, authorized and leaked Hamilton's relapse to the media and to refer them to the appropriate legal authorities for prosecution.

The McHenry tirade looks like garden-variety mean-spiritedness, but I disagree with those saying the towing clerk will at least have a job in a week. If McHenry were canned by ESPN, there's no better audition for the Real Housewives of Somewhere than that video tape. Seriously, though, while there's something especially distasteful about a well-to-do, educated and good-looking person with a coveted job going off on someone who's trying to make ends meet with whatever employment she can find, it's the aftermath of the incident I found most interesting. Here's the extended tweet from McHenry after the video went viral:

In an intense and stressful moment, I allowed my emotions to get the best of me and said some insulting and regrettable things. As frustrated as I was, I should always choose to be respectful and take the high road. I am so sorry for my actions and will learn from this mistake.

I bolded the key part that characterizes her conduct as a "mistake." This is common among people who say or do something that gets them in trouble. While it was certainly a "mistake" in terms of advancing her career or increasing her popularity, is this really what we mean by that word?

I think "mistake" actually frames what happened as almost inadvertent, a momentary lapse in concentration as in "I got into a car accident" rather than "In a moment of road rage, I rammed my car into someone else's on purpose."  The latter is a mistake in judgment, but it was something you did intentionally. Likewise, McHenry's judgment was poor, but she said what she said on purpose, not by mistake. If she wanted to take responsibility for her tirade, she would acknowledge what she said reflected her values, and now that she realizes how repellent those values are to many, she might choose to re-examine them.

But instead McHenry, who during the tirade held the towing clerk accountable not only for the inconvenience and cost of the towing but also for the totality of her life circumstances including her appearance, simply made a "mistake" out of frustration.

Both incidents are therefore related. In a certain kind of value system, when someone does something that harms you or costs you money, they need to be held "accountable." But when you do something - even intentionally - that harms others, it's a "mistake."

If you're an employer looking to hire someone or player looking to sign a contract with an organization, you have to decide whether that's a value system with which you're on board.