I’ve been thinking a lot about losses lately.
No, I’m not talking about my beloved Buffalo Sabres’ attempt to tank and draft rising star Connor McDavid. I’m talking about personal losses because, for me, several things came up last month.
The first was Buddy Bennett, who became the first person I’d ever met through work that I had to write a tribute for. I wrote plenty about Bennett and the great things he did for Plant City and, if you missed it, you can find the full article on PlantCityObserver.com. The Dolphins are currently working on a way to pay tribute to the man next season, which will probably come in the form of a uniform accessory.
Shortly afterward, I celebrated the birthday of a close friend and college roommate who, one year ago, didn’t survive being struck by two cars. We celebrated Jesse’s life around this time last year and, because he was such a hardcore Pittsburgh Steelers fan, everyone who attended wore the team’s gear as we shared our best stories about our time with him. (If you see me wearing a Steelers t-shirt around town in a few days, that’s why.)
And, the morning of this past Valentine’s Day, I learned that a fraternity brother of mine died in an accident. Although I wasn’t able to attend the service, which was held in South Carolina, I’m helping family and friends work on several tributes to Will.
I’ve noticed that many of the ways society pays tribute to the deceased is done through, or at least inspired by, sports. Maybe it’s because that person was such a huge fan that any other way to do it just wouldn’t work as well, or perhaps it’s because sports and strong visuals work so well together that things just seem to click that way.
For Jesse, it was the former. There was even a subtle nod to the Steelers in the first shirts that were made for the annual sport fishing tournament held in his honor. (Which, I’m pleased to say, raised $14,000 this year for an FGCU scholarship in his name.)
With Will, who was a huge Gamecocks fan, it will be the latter. There won’t be any explicit USC visuals in his case but, as his family has said, everything has to be done in garnet, white and black to make it feel like Will.
I would imagine that many of you would request similar things, especially because two out of every three Plant City residents I encounter seem to be huge Florida Gator fans. And I would hope that anything done for me involves my Bills in some way.
On TV, or in person, it’s always moving to see what teams and players do when they’re mourning a loss. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a uniform patch or something written on footwear. But other times, we’ll see a full-on gesture that goes beyond that — something that sticks with us for a while.
For example, I loved the North Carolina basketball team’s tributes to legendary coach Dean Smith, who also died last month. The Duke and UNC players kneeling together at center court in Cameron Indoor Stadium spoke volumes of Smith’s reputation, but I especially loved the Four Corners play the Tar Heels ran at the start of their Feb. 21 home game against Georgia Tech. Smith was famous for running that offense and, fittingly, the play worked.
But, my all-time favorite happened in a high school game in 2002. Just one day after future NBA superstar Chris Paul accepted a scholarship to Wake Forest, his grandfather was brutally murdered. In the very next game he played, he planned to try and score 61 points — one for each year of his grandfather’s life — without telling anyone of his idea. Paul hit his mark in the fourth quarter when he drew and and-one with two minutes to go. Realizing that he had reached 61, he threw up an airball and left the game. As he collapsed into his father’s arms, his team won the game soundly and everyone in the gym realized what Paul had just done.
This is part of the reason why I love sports as much as I do. They give us imagery that sticks with us for the long run and stories that can bring out our emotions like nothing else out there, even if it seems trivial that something like basketball or football can have such a strong effect on a person.