noBOdy Knows Better

The cover of Bo Jackson's 1990 autobiography says it all, even before the stories inside put the image into words and begin to fill in the background of one of the greatest athletes of the last half-century.

Donning a pair of shoulder pads and holding a bat, Mr. Jackson stands a man representative of two sports. Rest assured, these objects are not props like Barry Bonds' crutch or Mark McGwire's glasses, nor are they flashy adornments like the purple and orange suits of Deion Sanders.

He stands a man representative of his family and his beliefs — a testament to the perseverance and strength necessary to travel the long, troubled road and come out on the other side a better person.

There is no "Me'" in the picture, and there is no intention to brag, show off, or any other selfish tendency prevalent in the modern athlete/celebrity.

Bo Jackson is not carrying baseball or football, he is not a man above the game. That is not to say that either sport wouldn't have been better off with him as the torch-bearer. Unfortunately, a career-ending hip condition took the man off the field and out of our spotlight a little over 10 years ago.

No, on the cover of his compelling autobiography, Bo Jackson humbly puts himself within the legacy and history of both sports. In one snapshot, in one image, he gives a visual representation of his grace and appreciation for the opportunities that sports afforded him, a sentiment later echoed in the book, "I wanted to go to college ... I began thinking that maybe there was a world out there beyond the horizon and I found out pretty soon that playing ball was going to help me get there."

No, he is not a man above the legends that came before him, and Bo (the individual, the athlete, the celebrity) is not above the games he played or the circumstances that brought him there.

If you didn't have a chance to see Bo Jackson play baseball and football, you didn't have a chance to see Shakespeare the way it was meant to be played — both on the field and off.

Sure, he could have carried both sports on his broad shoulders, the cover of his autobiography and the pages in between are evidence enough of that; however, Bo's respect for the game wouldn't have allowed him to do that. Too flashy, too self-important, and too egotistical.

There's a way to be proud of yourself and your abilities while remaining humble about your position in the game and your accomplishments. It's the line between pride and hubris. And although this confidence is usually mistakenly labeled "ego," and although most quips about the history, legacy, etc. of the game are less than sincere nods from less than sincere people, a certain amount of "ego" is almost unavoidable for a professional athlete. It's how an individual deals with it and understands it that make him/her one of the game's ambassadors.

"When people tell me I could be the best athlete there is, I just let it go in one ear and out the other," Jackson said in 1990. "There is always somebody out there who is better than you are."

Forgive me for thinking that this sounds 100% more sincere and humble than anything we've heard out of athletes' mouths recently. I've had enough of Barry Bonds talking to reporters, and Mark McGwire refusing to talk about the past, and the celebration of the "Nation," as if no World Series championship was ever more precious than last year's.

And now a California newspaper has quoted a dietician who says she has personal knowledge that Bo's deteriorating hip condition was caused by anabolic steroid use.

After hearing and reading about the comment, Bo did what any athlete sure of his innocence would logically do ... he sued the newspaper, something that other "innocent" athletes have not done.

Commenting on the allegations Bo said, "I've got nothing to hide. If anyone wants to check into my medical past, go get blood tests, go check up on those blood tests and see if there was any anabolic steroids in it. You're more than welcome."

He continued, "I'm not going to sit here and say, 'Maybe I did and maybe I didn't.' I didn't. Never did. Never had to do."

Nobody has been this strong or proactive in their denial of steroid use. Perhaps no one else is as innocent.

Like his depiction on the front of his autobiography, Bo remains humble, open, and honest about his past and how he's arrived where he is today.

And what is he doing today - The only man to make a Pro Bowl and an All-Star Game, the phenom with the jaw-dropping "Monday Night Football" run against Seattle, the warrior that clubbed a home run in his first at-bat after coming back from hip replacement surgery, a member of the College Football Hall of Fame, and the winner of the 1985 Heisman Trophy?

Bo is a businessman in Chicago, and spends his time talking to youths in the city about health, nutrition, life, and his experience in sports.

He's putting those big, broad shoulders to good use teaching our children. Forget Congress and their semi-serious aims at targeting steroid use among children and teens, let Bo Jackson talk for 15 minutes and they will learn more than you could ever imagine.

In fact, just pass on a copy of Bo Knows Bo. Let them look at the cover and discover the stories inside, and then watch how they carry themselves.

If you want them to be respectful, honest, humble, and dedicated, just point them in the direction of Mr. Jackson.

noBOdy knows better.