I haven't blogged in a while. I went on vacation, and came back to a world that has been kind of nauseating these past couple of weeks, and I feel like I rode the Hangman at
Opryland one too many times, and my head hurts a little bit from all the jarring against the headrest.
Last night I sat on my couch, watching the televised memorial service for Steve
McNair. If you are not a
Nashvillian and/or NFL fan, Steve was our Tennessee Titans quarterback from the time the team moved from Houston to Nashville until about three years ago, when we couldn't afford to keep him anymore and he played his last two seasons with our arch-rivals the Baltimore Ravens, who at the time seemed to be trying to snatch up all of our players one by one. Anyway, Steve and his family still maintained ties in Nashville and moved back here upon his retirement. He's probably the most famous and well-respected athlete our city has ever been able to claim, and the fact that he claimed us right back made him one of our most popular residents. You really never heard anything bad about him, even when he was arrested a couple of times for
DUIs, most people criticized the police for "just wanting to say they arrested a famous person." If anything, stories of his good works around town were par for the course, how he'd just show up at a school or children's hospital, no press, no media coverage. It seemed he was actually a really nice guy, genuinely interested making a difference.
But on the 4
th of July, my best friend and her husband showed up at my parent's cookout with bad news-Steve
McNair had been fatally shot, along with a woman, in an apartment near downtown. It was surreal-my first thought was perhaps a drug deal gone bad, or maybe something involving a prostitute. I mean, for someone to kill STEVE
MCNAIR, our golden boy, there had to be something really shady going on-he had such a great
reputation, I knew it would be something shocking. They weren't naming the woman, which seemed strange. Soon after the coverage began, they identified the woman as not his wife, but still no name. They also began stating the
McNair had been killed, and the other woman "found dead." Not killed. I said to family and friends around the table that the wording seemed like a read-between-the-lines way of saying, murder-suicide. After a few days, and many salacious details about an
extramarital relationship with a girl still in her teens when it began, that theory I formed sadly proved to be true. At first I was kind of angry-not even at this "role model's" poor choices and colossal lapse in judgement that cost him everything (which did irk me-why would a guy who had everything be such an idiot?), but at all of his friends and former teammates that basically pulled the "guy code" card when asked if any of them ever talked to him about the choices he was making. Stay out of your friend/teammate's business. As a girl, I cannot understand that logic. Friends, take note: If I ever witness you engaging in self-destructive behavior, I will confront you about it.
While most in Nashville are shocked by the manner in which his life was taken, most fans and media have chosen to focus on his extensive community service and
athletic accomplishments, and ignore the elephant in the room. Our local papers and news outlets have referred to the woman as Steve's "girlfriend" while ESPN, Fox Sports, and a local Baltimore paper in which I read some coverage all called her the "mistress." Some
bloggers blasted
McNair by saying that real leadership begins at home, not on the field or in the community, while locally papers have listed the many charities he was involved in. Others used his death and the
circumstances leading up to it to chastise all American men who may provide their families with plenty of money to take care of them but are otherwise absent. In fact, we don't know how much time he was spending with his children in the months up to his death while he was involved with this girl, and all evidence we have doesn't point to a lot, but many assumptions have been made that we can't verify in order to make an "example" of Steve
McNair. In the aftermath of the Michael Jackson death, where reaction has been similar, it is an interesting concept to ponder-is all forgiven when we die? Whatever mistakes we have made in our lives, has the good we have contributed to society enough to make everyone forget about our flaws? Is it unfair or
inappropriate to "speak ill of the dead" even if it is true? On one hand, flaws are what make us human. In Steve's case, I think this was the major point of shock for many: Air
McNair, the larger than life
athlete with an infectious smile, who we'd put on a pedestal, was human. He made mistakes. Like WE ALL DO.
Last night, while watching Titan's coach Jeff Fisher, an assortment of teammates, and charity associates eulogize Steve
McNair with stories of athletic triumph and personal generosity, none of them mentioned Steve's now-obvious flaws. But when
McNair's pastor, Bishop Joseph Walker III, took the mic for his turn, he walked right up to the "elephant" in the room and basically climbed on for a ride. But his message was beautiful, fitting, and immediately dissipated my anger and frustration about the coverage of this event, and gave me a peace about a lot of the discomfort I've felt while reading coverage of the deaths of Steve
McNair and Michael Jackson. Bishop Walker told the story of the woman caught in adultery, brought to Jesus by the religious leaders of the community who wanted to stone her, according to law. Of course, Jesus drew the line in the sand and gave us one of the most often quoted verses of Scripture ever, "Let ye who is without sin cast the first stone." Bishop Walker then called for us all to "Drop our Stones" when we think about this tragic event, or when we Twitter, blog, or chat with each other. We are a very judgemental society. I know I often judge people unfairly. I'm female! We pick each other apart! I am aware of this. I also try very hard to be
compassionate, and to remember that I don't know what someone has been through, is going through, or may soon be facing. But, I'm not perfect and clearly like to get on my high horse just like most everyone else-but if you read this blog you know that already.
While I didn't know Steve
McNair, his death has served as a reminder for me: Drop Your Stones. None of us are perfect, but God loves us all and has commanded us to show that love to one another-in good times, in bad times, when we make mistakes, and even when we hurt each other. Rest in Peace Steve, and I pray that your children and family find comfort.
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20090710/SPORTS01/907100377/Excerpts+from+McNair+memorial+service+in+Nashville
