Dungy Provides a Little Perspective
ESPN.com - NFL - Mortensen: Heartbreaking development
A horrible thing has happened today; unfortunately a thing that happens every day. A parent lost a child too soon. Today it was the Colt's head coach Tony Dungy losing his eighteen year old son. While I have to concur with the eloquent (either in their poetry or in there brevity) and sincere writers on ESPN.com that writing about such a tragedy seems hollow, I also have to agree with Len Pasquearelli (http://sports.espn.go.com/NFL/columns/story?Columnist=Pasquarelli_len&id=2268643) that to not address the tragedy is a far worse action.
I did not know Tony Dungy. I have only been a fan of his Indianapolis Colts team for three years, and I only had a passing acquaintance with his work in Tampa. In the three years that I have been following the NFL, Tony Dungy (along with Herm Edwards) has struck me of being a slightly different caliber of coach. As you will read and hear often in the days to come, Dungy the man left as strong (if not stronger) impression on you than Dungy the coach. There is something about him that makes you feel that there are still good men and heroes in the NFL, not just personalities. There are scores of fantastic players and brilliant coaches, but they all seem like cutouts of real men. John Gruden is sexy in his ferocity; Jim Mora is compelling in his exuberance; Andy Reid endears you with his eagerness to see the better in people.
Tony Dungy, however, never really struck me as easy to pigeon hole. There is something about Dungy that makes you feel like this man is downright honest, despite the PR and rumors swirling around in the NFL. His honesty makes him stand out as one of the very few solid, real spots in a colorful and capricious league.
Good men lose sons as well as the bad men. It just strikes you as so much more unjust when it happens to the good men. I was on a plane to Florida when I heard the news on ESPN. It took all I had to not start crying for Dungy's loss right there. Even now, the shock long gone, I still have to hold back the tears of sympathy for this man and his family.
I'm just starting to really consider children and what they mean to families. Up until now, they seemed to either be delightful distractions or annoying nuisances. For a few months now, I've started to begin to try to understand what a child means to a parent. All the work, hope, devotion, joy, and expectation that goes into that child. They really do seem to redefine their parents' lives. In a way, it is the only true way for one person to live for another. How can it feel to see that bundle of so many thoughts and emotions pass away? I have never really experienced loss, and I doubt my imagination is even beginning to touch on the true nature of the pain. What heals pain like that? Does it ever completely heal?
Chris Mortensen is right. Until today, football was an intoxicating blur of playoff hopes, player injuries, and post season speculations. Today, the dizzy ride has come to an abrupt halt. My little concerns--finals, the transit strike, a lingering cold--evaporated when I heard that ESPN announcement this morning. Soon, the joyous whirl of NFL football will pick up again, and I won't pass it by. My little troubles will expand and consume me again. But for tonight, I want to pause. I want to send out my sympathies (whatever their worth may be) to Tony Dungy, his family, and any other family that has had to endure a situation like this. I know Dungy would want nothing more than for the fans to have this incident remind them of the precious quality of loved ones and keep doing the things that bring us and our loved ones together--including watching football games.
Coach Dungy, as a Colts fan, I hope you return to the team that needs you for its collective heart to beat properly. But even if you never return to the game, you have left an indelible impression on me as a good and honest man who stands for many things that I believe in, in an enviornement that is more concerned with breeding media showmen and selfish underperformers. Thank you and good luck.
A horrible thing has happened today; unfortunately a thing that happens every day. A parent lost a child too soon. Today it was the Colt's head coach Tony Dungy losing his eighteen year old son. While I have to concur with the eloquent (either in their poetry or in there brevity) and sincere writers on ESPN.com that writing about such a tragedy seems hollow, I also have to agree with Len Pasquearelli (http://sports.espn.go.com/NFL/columns/story?Columnist=Pasquarelli_len&id=2268643) that to not address the tragedy is a far worse action.
I did not know Tony Dungy. I have only been a fan of his Indianapolis Colts team for three years, and I only had a passing acquaintance with his work in Tampa. In the three years that I have been following the NFL, Tony Dungy (along with Herm Edwards) has struck me of being a slightly different caliber of coach. As you will read and hear often in the days to come, Dungy the man left as strong (if not stronger) impression on you than Dungy the coach. There is something about him that makes you feel that there are still good men and heroes in the NFL, not just personalities. There are scores of fantastic players and brilliant coaches, but they all seem like cutouts of real men. John Gruden is sexy in his ferocity; Jim Mora is compelling in his exuberance; Andy Reid endears you with his eagerness to see the better in people.
Tony Dungy, however, never really struck me as easy to pigeon hole. There is something about Dungy that makes you feel like this man is downright honest, despite the PR and rumors swirling around in the NFL. His honesty makes him stand out as one of the very few solid, real spots in a colorful and capricious league.
Good men lose sons as well as the bad men. It just strikes you as so much more unjust when it happens to the good men. I was on a plane to Florida when I heard the news on ESPN. It took all I had to not start crying for Dungy's loss right there. Even now, the shock long gone, I still have to hold back the tears of sympathy for this man and his family.
I'm just starting to really consider children and what they mean to families. Up until now, they seemed to either be delightful distractions or annoying nuisances. For a few months now, I've started to begin to try to understand what a child means to a parent. All the work, hope, devotion, joy, and expectation that goes into that child. They really do seem to redefine their parents' lives. In a way, it is the only true way for one person to live for another. How can it feel to see that bundle of so many thoughts and emotions pass away? I have never really experienced loss, and I doubt my imagination is even beginning to touch on the true nature of the pain. What heals pain like that? Does it ever completely heal?
Chris Mortensen is right. Until today, football was an intoxicating blur of playoff hopes, player injuries, and post season speculations. Today, the dizzy ride has come to an abrupt halt. My little concerns--finals, the transit strike, a lingering cold--evaporated when I heard that ESPN announcement this morning. Soon, the joyous whirl of NFL football will pick up again, and I won't pass it by. My little troubles will expand and consume me again. But for tonight, I want to pause. I want to send out my sympathies (whatever their worth may be) to Tony Dungy, his family, and any other family that has had to endure a situation like this. I know Dungy would want nothing more than for the fans to have this incident remind them of the precious quality of loved ones and keep doing the things that bring us and our loved ones together--including watching football games.
Coach Dungy, as a Colts fan, I hope you return to the team that needs you for its collective heart to beat properly. But even if you never return to the game, you have left an indelible impression on me as a good and honest man who stands for many things that I believe in, in an enviornement that is more concerned with breeding media showmen and selfish underperformers. Thank you and good luck.
posted by Barbara at 11:51 PM
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