Class

I half-promised that I'd elaborate more on my experience at the Gator Bowl yesterday, so I guess I have to half-deliver. Already this writing every day thing has become a challenge, but that's how many commitments are at the beginning, they're hard to remember that you've even made them. Regardless, I did have the inspiration for a topic yesterday, but not the energy. Today, I have a measure less of inspiration, but the energy level is high enough to take a run at it.

I often find myself imagining what it would be like in someone else's shoes. I think that's part of what makes me a "people person," the fact that I try to envision how others think, how they see the world, try to anticipate what they'll do or say. That's how all the men of my family are, and it's likely what draws us to careers like sales. It's all about relating to people and understanding them.

So when my dad, Eric, Brandon and I were standing against the rail yesterday with the wind and rain at our back, and we could feel the gangrene slowly setting in at our feet, and when we were running out of things to say and didn't want to talk for fear of the cold seeping deeper into our bodies through our open mouths, I got to thinking. I thought about the symbolic nature of the weather, about how it was fitting for the event itself. This was the end of a man's career that had lasted over 40 years. He was forced out of his career, out of the only thing that he's even known, and God's response was to send bitter cold, blistering wind, and rain that fell like snow. He made it clear how he felt about it all.

With the feeling slowly trickling away from my body, my thoughts wondered to exactly what was going through Coach Bowden's head at that moment. It was about 10:25AM, just a few minutes before he was scheduled to walk into the stadium, and I tried to imagine just what he would be thinking. Was he angry? Pensive? Overwhelmed? Overjoyed? Reminiscing? All this ran through my head as scores of his former players walked in front of us on their way to meet Coach as he got off the bus. I wondered what he would think when he saw the dozens of men who he had led over the years coming to honor him. I wondered what I would feel. I wondered if anyone would ever know what it would be like to walk in his shoes. I doubt it. That's the thing about Bobby Bowden: there will never be another one like him. He's one of a kind, and, quite frankly, they just don't make men like him any more.

I kept right on wondering as the band played the fight song. This was one of the last times that he'd hear it. I wondered as the fans at the entrance of the walkway began to cheer louder and louder, signaling his approach. I thought how incredible difficult this must be for him, but at the same time how this has to touch his heart. This man gave everything that he had to this team, to this university, to these men, to these fans, and all that we could do was cheer, chant his name, wave signs that said "Thanks Bobby," and for some of us? Hold back a tear or two. After the game, he said that those moments, where he was standing right in front of us in that unforgiving weather, those were the hardest moments of the day, the only times that he almost cried, that he almost lost that strong exterior... but he didn't. He held it together, as he always has, and displayed one more time that unmatched level of sheer class that Florida State University has benefited from and witnessed for the past 33 years. We'll never see it again.

I can't express how much it meant to be watching and thinking all of this with my dad standing right next to me. Since I am my father's son, I know that he was probably thinking of many of the same things. And while Bobby's private life was never public, I imagine he was much the same with Anne and his children and grandchildren as he was with Warrick Dunn and Derrick Brooks and Charlie Ward. A good man... a great man. And standing there watching this great man who so many have revered and cherished for so long? It made me want to be better. It made me want to have that moment some day. I'm almost certain I'll never have thousands showing up to chant my name as I say my goodbyes, and I know I sure as hell wouldn't be able to hold back those tears. As the title says, I'm an emotional kind of guy. But I want to know what he was thinking on that day. I want to know what it's like to inspire people, to lead people, to have them look up to you and one day wonder just how I managed to do it all with such poise and dedication, such class.

One day, maybe I'll have that moment. For now, I'll have to savor the fact that I was there for his, watching him take it all in with his wife at his side. The signs all said it for us, but I'll say it one more time.

Thanks, Bobby.