I've been meaning to update this blog for a while, and absolutely hate the circumstances that I do so now.
Gordie Howe died today, and even though I can't say it was a surprise I'm saddened all the same.
They say that deaths seem to come in threes, and for me its true with Prince, Muhammad Ali and now
Howe all gone, three icons whom I happened to cross paths with over the years.
I saw Prince in concert, on the Purple Rain Tour in fact. I still can't believe that my father purchased the tickets and my sister and I went on Christmas Eve.
I was once in the same room with Ali. He attended a Phoenix Suns game I was covering and sat across from me on the floor (back then journalists sat courtside). I spent the whole first half watching him instead of the game, and at halftime soaked up his presence as much as possible before he slowly made his way out.
But I met Gordie, twice.
The first time was as a young kid, I got to play in one of those youth exhibition in between periods at a pro game. The WHA's St. Paul Fighting Saints were hosting Howe's team and he made a point to say hi to every one of us.
In 1999 I ran into him at the NHL All-Star Game, and made a point to shake his hand again and say thanks. I sort of made reference to it in a column I wrote May 04, 1999 for the
Tucson Citizen, which in a way seems kind of fitting today:
PHOENIX – We’ve all had those times when something obvious is sitting right under our noses, yet for some reason it takes a little while to notice.
It was Jan. 24. I was taking refuge in the basement of the Ice Palace as a steady downpour drenched the Tampa area. Gordie Howe stood sternly by one exit while a number of today’s stars seemed to hardly notice or care.
Wayne Gretzky was the exception. He always seemed to notice everything, but more so on this night. Two days short of his 38th birthday, the Great One had a goal and two assists to earn MVP honors at the NHL All-Star Game, and here he was talking with anyone who happened to be there too long after the applause ended.
Finally, it dawned on me what he was doing. Gretzky was lingering as if trying to soak up every last detail, not wanting it to end.
Perhaps he already knew deep down he had just put a final exclamation point on a brilliant career. He told reporters that this would be the one time he’d keep the car awarded, a 1999 Dodge Durango.
”It’s kind of like a trophy to me,” he said, perhaps the first time Gretzky publicly made a selfish act.
A week later, and half a state away, John Elway played his final professional football game, leading the Denver Broncos to a 34-19 victory in Super Bowl XXXIII. He, too, was named MVP and awarded a car.
”Oh, just what I need,” joked Elway, who used to own a number of dealerships in the Denver area. "Another car.”
He, too, didn’t want the moment to end, but when the time was right he knew to walk away. Like Michael Jordan and Gretzky, it’s the dignity the legends are made of and rarely take advantage of.
They left on top, and whereas sports is usually a business of ”What have you done lately?” now we all get to sit back and bask in the masterpieces they left behind.
There were so many, and so glorious that most of us will tell our children and our children’s children about what it was like to watch Elway lead a dramatic comeback.
Or Gretzky make the impossible pass and score an unbelievable goal.
Or Jordan seemingly defy gravity and effortlessly float a basketball off his fingertips to be rewarded with the gentle swish of nylon.
Right now, we can’t imagine anyone taking their places. The sentiment only intensified with the
passing of Joe DiMaggio, more than just a baseball player, but an American icon. He called it a career in 1951, the same year Joe Louis did.
All of their stories have grown and improved with age. Much as when Jim Brown and Sandy Koufax took to the sidelines in 1966.
Perhaps it’s fitting that some of the games’ greatest are leaving as this century draws to a close. To some, the year 2000 symbolizes the age of a new era, the end of life as we know it.
To others, it’s just a beginning.
It’s possible that we will likely never see the grace of Gretzky, the determination of Elway, or the absolute showmanship of Jordan again during our lifetimes.
They will always belong to a select group of athletes who forever changed their sports and transcended the boundaries of the playing field.
Five months into the year and we already know that 1999 will be remembered as when our athletic heroes left us. We may never fully appreciate how special they really were.
