I am sure that many of you remember the opening remarks by Jim McKay, the great sportscaster, introducing the legendary weekend show "The Wild World of Sports." This was exactly how I felt last week when Dr. St. Louis and I stood before the legends of the NFL, proudly announcing our gift of $1 million dollars to Mike Ditka's Gridiron Greats Assistance Fund, a fund to help former players with dire needs. Later this week, I will be be posting video clips of our announcement at the press conference.
As a young boy, I dreamt of being an NFL football star. On any given Saturday morning, in a big open field next to my childhood home, I fantasized about being Johnny Unitas throwing to Raymond Barry or Bart Starr to Max McGhee. I played from sunrise to sunset. One of my fondest memories as a young boy was when we wanted to play a night game. My dad actually placed one car at each end of the field and created the first neighborhood night game. Kids and parents from blocks away came to participate in the sandlot game. At the end of the night, we had two dead car batteries, but enough joy in the kids' hearts to light up the entire west side of Jacksonville. That night, these 8 year old boys had the thrill of victory imagining themselves as NFL superstars.
Back then, no one could ever imagine the agony of defeat. No one knew the toll the game was taking on these heroes. And certainly, we would never believe the game would turn its back on the men that turned the NFL into a multi-billion dollar industry. How could so many give so much and now get so little? Everyone I have talked to believes this is a disgrace.
That is why we have decided to give our time, talents and resources to help these guys get their lives back. I feel thankful that Dr. St. Louis gave me my life back and always feel the need to pay it forward. With 22 of the best doctors in the world, it is not a great sacrifice for us to help 2 or 3 former NFL players "get their lives back" every month.
Once again, I can dream about the NFL. But, this time I dream of seeing broken down players walk without pain, pick up a grandchild, and have hope. It feels good to me. It feels good to our team. It's our Super Bowl and we are already winning the biggest game in life. I know my dad would be proud.
As a young boy, I dreamt of being an NFL football star. On any given Saturday morning, in a big open field next to my childhood home, I fantasized about being Johnny Unitas throwing to Raymond Barry or Bart Starr to Max McGhee. I played from sunrise to sunset. One of my fondest memories as a young boy was when we wanted to play a night game. My dad actually placed one car at each end of the field and created the first neighborhood night game. Kids and parents from blocks away came to participate in the sandlot game. At the end of the night, we had two dead car batteries, but enough joy in the kids' hearts to light up the entire west side of Jacksonville. That night, these 8 year old boys had the thrill of victory imagining themselves as NFL superstars.
Back then, no one could ever imagine the agony of defeat. No one knew the toll the game was taking on these heroes. And certainly, we would never believe the game would turn its back on the men that turned the NFL into a multi-billion dollar industry. How could so many give so much and now get so little? Everyone I have talked to believes this is a disgrace.
That is why we have decided to give our time, talents and resources to help these guys get their lives back. I feel thankful that Dr. St. Louis gave me my life back and always feel the need to pay it forward. With 22 of the best doctors in the world, it is not a great sacrifice for us to help 2 or 3 former NFL players "get their lives back" every month.
Once again, I can dream about the NFL. But, this time I dream of seeing broken down players walk without pain, pick up a grandchild, and have hope. It feels good to me. It feels good to our team. It's our Super Bowl and we are already winning the biggest game in life. I know my dad would be proud.
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