I'm Gonna Live Forever

Well, not me personally. I haven't done anything deserving of the requisite fame in order to live forever or to learn how to fly high, as the song goes.

And since Chris blatantly thieved my topic yesterday (only because he lives closer to Austin and was able to get home quicker), I'm going with another topic that caught my fancy yesterday.

As a child and young adult, my heroes were sports stars. I tried to dress, shoot, pitch, or otherwise imitate these heroes based on how they played their respective sport. In some cases, I wore their number thinking that somehow made me more like them. I could tell you almost anything about them - physical stats, of course, but also where they were born, where they went to college, personality quirks, etc. - except for how they behaved once they left the locker room and escaped from the cameras.

When I was in high school, I wore number 16 when I played baseball because that was Dwight Gooden's number when he pitched for the Mets. I wanted to do everything like him. But then I reached a certain age and came to realize that as dominant as he was on the pitching mound, he either couldn't or wouldn't conquer his personal demons. It's one thing to admire somebody for their intrinsic athletic talent but an entirely different thing to assume that talent automatically translates into integrity.

However, it is a tough, even liberating, day for a kid to realize that his idol has personal challenges. There is something about that moment that forever changes how a kid views the world.

Over the years, I've internally debated to what extent athletes should be role models and whether what a person does off-the-field should be held for or against him when considering on-the-field achievements, or vice versa. Charles Barkley caught a lot of flak years ago for a commercial in which he unapologetically stated that athletes are not role models. But should an athlete, or any public figure, just because of a certain external talent, be responsible, even partially, for a child's internal character development?

At the end of the day, I have to agree with Barkley. That being said, kids will admire the person who can jump the highest, run the fastest, and throw the hardest until the end of eternity. Kids will imitate their hero's moves and pretend to be just like them. And there's no harm in that as long as it is eventually taught that fame is usually one-dimensional.

Yesterday was the closing day of the Texas Book Festival. The two symposiums Chris and I were most interested in seeing concerned the Civil War, specifically Sherman and Grant, and then another with Cactus Pryor and Darrell Royal.

The symposium with Pryor and Coach Royal was far superior. It was completely unrehearsed and unscripted. Some stories were told with a purpose in mind and others simply to get a laugh. Both men related stories of Texas football in the 1960's and how their friendship developed almost half a century ago and continues to remain strong.

Since it was my first time to see Coach Royal in person, it humanized the legend I've read about since I was a kid. I was able to envision, even if momentarily, a guy with insecurities, failures, and personal demons he had to conquer. A guy who coached at one of the premier universities for 20 years but had to suffer 17 of them not winning a national championship.

While many probably walked away with memories of The Darrell Royal, I walked away with a vision of a guy who appeared to think of himself as rather normal and probably should not be considered a role model simply because he held a whistle, but because he, as an adult, had something to teach both on and off the football field.

So while I've learned to not to be disappointed in what Derek Jeter may do off the field, it makes me reconsider what is truly important when it comes to choosing a hero - somebody who is not perfect, maybe even far from it, but is striving for that.