More than anything, we like the guys who make it look easy.
We're drawn to the illusion of effortlessness. Not because we like deception, but because we want to know we're witnessing something great. The only thing better than watching someone accomplish great things, is watching someone accomplish great things with ease. If only because it makes us wonder what they could be capable of if they ever did start to try. We might envy that ability'and swear that we would do even more with that ability'but we admire it just the same.
Reggie Bush will be in the NFL Hall of Fame someday and there's nothing a bad offensive line or a cheap owner can do about it. I would tell you that the only thing he needs to do is stay healthy, but I'm not even sure he has to do that.
Gale Sayers sure didn't; two devastating knee injuries ended his career before his 29th birthday. But despite playing only 68 games in his NFL career he was inducted into the Hall of Fame. Any idea why? Because he had already left his mark on the game as perhaps the most captivating football player of all time. He captured the hearts and boggled the minds of everyone who watched him. Reggie Bush can do the same.
Pulitzer Prize-winning sportswriter Red Smith wrote that Sayers 'could slice through the middle like a warm knife through butter' while Smith's contemporaries liked to call Sayers 'the football version of the three-card monte''translation: now you see him, now you don't. Even Bill Cosby marveled at his moves, once joking, 'He is the man who splits himself in half and leaves the half without the football with the tackler.'
One aspect of Sayers' mystique was more distinct'and magnetic'than any other: his cuts. They were utterly seamless and made him appear impossibly smooth. In the time it takes to blink, he could change direction without slowing down. He would change course so swiftly that his body never seemed to indicate any of this to the defender until he was five yards behind anyone else in pads. His graceful strides made tacklers look stationary by comparison.
I would say the same about Bush, since the same could be said at this point, but I'd rather sit back, watch his career unfold and let the great writers of this generation'the Red Smith's of more recent decades'capture his greatness and immortalize his majesty. Not only is Reggie Bush capable of the same things Sayers was, but I'm beginning to think he knows it. As his career has progressed he has traded his strong, furious steps for longer, more effortless strides.
He used to hubristically beat each defender one at a time'one unnecessarily complex move after another'until his numerous individual conquests had left him peerless in the end zone. Now it seems as though he uses subtle but sure cuts to elude defenders'careful not to acknowledge their existence or suggest that they could ever throw him off his course'as he gallops gracefully to pay-dirt.
Just as you don't picture the Gingerbread Man panting and laboring as his taunt echoes back to his pursuers, you don't picture Sayers or Bush breathing heavy behind their facemasks or believing for a second'much like a legendarily confident confection'that they can be caught.
I hope, at the very least, that Bush stays healthy long enough to make the impact that Sayers did. He's as gifted a running back'with his deceptive speed and transcendent field vision'as Van Gogh was an artist or Dr. King was an orator. Both Van Gogh and King have marvelous bodies of work, but they certainly aren't remembered for their longevity or the sheer volume of their contributions. It's those flashes of brilliance that make their impact everlasting.
Maybe Bush's legacy could be an unforgettable run, an unforgettable season, or a few of both. And his legacy may never rival a starry night or a beautiful dream'because, to be sure, athletes have their limits when it comes to cultural significance'but a talent so rare deserves all the attention it can get.
I'm out of adjectives to describe Reggie's ability'regrettably leaving out hypnotic, mesmerizing and otherworldly'but I think you get the idea. I thought I had one more 'makes weaving through behemoths on a toss sweep look easy' in me, but I don't.
If he breaks tackles'and avoids breaking his stride'he'll break records. If he breaks a bone, he'll break his fans' hearts. But given the ease with which he operates, he may never break a sweat. Just imagine if he did.
