Sting of death

The news that ex-football player Darryl Stingley had passed away carried extra meaning for me, since I was at the game nearly 30 years ago when he was paralyzed by a vicious hit from the Raiders’ Jack Tatum.  The Oakland-New England exhibition game was the first NFL game I ever attended, but it was Stingley’s devastating injury that has stuck with me over the years.

Tatum always had a reputation as a merciless hitter, crushing receivers as they dared to come across the middle.  While he may not have intended to hurt Stingley to the degree he did, the fact that he celebrated his reputation and nickname “Assassin” in the book he later wrote left a bitter taste in my mouth.

In the past few months, the Broncos have suffered the tragic loss of two players, Darrent Williams and Damien Nash.  As a fan, their deaths, especially Williams’s senseless murder, hit especially close to home.  As a fan, football can represent an escape from reality, but reality is always there, whether on the field or off it, ready to end a career or a life.  As a fan, I acknowledge that sad fact, even as I wait for the upcoming NFL draft and the new season.  I just hope this kind of reality keeps its distance from the Broncos for a while.

Meeting a Hero

A couple of weeks ago, Ashley and I attended Koream Journal’s annual black-tie event honoring the achievements of Korean-Americans (and-Canadians).  Sandra Oh (Grey’s Anatomy) accepted her award via video from fellow Canadian and TV’s hottest artificial lifeform, Grace Park.  The music honoree was Joe Hahn from Linkin (no relation to Grace) Park, and the sports honoree was freestyle-skiing medalist Toby Dawson.  But the most impressive figure there that night, in my opinion, was seated to my left: Dr. Sammy Lee.

It’s understandable if you’re unfamiliar with Sammy Lee and his accomplishments.  He may not be as famous as Jesse Owens or Jim Thorpe, but Sammy Lee is a true pioneer, not only in American sports, but in American history.  He was the first Asian-American to win an Olympic gold medal for the U.S.  He won back-to-back gold medals in platform diving in 1948 and 1952, plus a bronze in springboard diving in 1948.

What makes Sammy’s accomplishments even more impressive is the fact that he achieved them in the face of blatant prejudice and discrimination.  In addition, he went to medical school and was a U.S. Army doctor when he competed in the Olympics.  Naturally, I was honored to sit next to him and speak with him.  Even better, he turned out to have a mischievous and salty personality.  My kind of guy.

Sammy is seated, bottom left, in the picture below.

Escape velocity

This past weekend was not a good one for me as a football fan. Both my college team, Cal, and my NFL team, the Denver Broncos, lost crucial games. Cal fell to USC and the Broncos lost to the Chargers. Both teams blew 2nd half leads. A victory for Cal would have meant a trip to the Rose Bowl for the first time in nearly 50 years, while Denver’s loss gave rival San Diego the AFC West lead and made the Broncos’ playoff run that much harder.

Disappointment is an inevitable part of being a sports fan. Mine isn’t even the kind which plagues fans of perennial losers, such as the Arizona Cardinals or Colorado Rockies. My teams have actually done pretty well most of the season. But their relative success only creates false hopes of championships, which are ultimately replaced by the stark realization that they just aren’t quite good enough to reach that level.

It reminds me of that great scene in one of my favorite movies, The Right Stuff: Chuck Yeager (Sam Shepard) pushes his test jet to the limit, climbing all the way into the upper stratosphere. Just as he catches a glimpse of outer space, the plane’s engines suffocate and die, sending him plummeting back to earth like a modern-day Icarus. What lifts a spacecraft beyond the pull of gravity is escape velocity. Yeager didn’t have it, and this year, at least, neither does Cal or Denver. All three glimpsed the glory of that next level, only to reach their limits and fall short.

I realize this is all somewhat overblown. It overlooks the teams’ accomplishments and, after all, it’s only football. But if my emotions didn’t swing with my teams’ fortunes, I wouldn’t be much of a fan. In the end, all I can do is keep rooting for my teams, hoping one day they will find enough thrust to slip the surly bonds of gravity and catch up with our championship dreams.