This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, Feb. 4, 2010 - The mind’s eye tends to foreshorten memory. Signature events remain vivid and immediate years after the fact while more recent, but mundane, happenings are almost immediately forgotten.
An example of this trait of the intellect came last week when Kurt Warner announced his retirement from pro football. I can remember his first regular season start as the Rams’ quarterback as though the game were played yesterday, whereas the 80 games of the team’s last five seasons are little more than a featureless blur of interminable futility.
To fully appreciate Warner’s impact, you have to consider the dismal history that preceded his epiphany. The Rams moved to St. Louis in 1995. After a promising start, the team slumped badly and concluded its inaugural campaign in its new home with a record of 7 wins and 9 losses. The next season, they finished 6-10, and coach Rich Brooks was replaced by Dick Vermeil.
Vermeil, whose emotional stint as the head coach of the Philadelphia Eagles a decade earlier had made “burn-out” a household word, subsequently posted successive records of 5-11 and 4-12. The mathematically inclined fan thus anticipated a 3-13 result for the 1999 season. Instead, the team went 13-3 and won the Super Bowl.
Of course, as we awaited the opening day kick-off against the Baltimore Ravens on Sept. 12, 1999, no sane person would have dared to voice hope for such an outcome. The previous year’s quarterback, the star-crossed Tony Banks, had been replaced in the off-season by high-priced free agent, Trent Green.
Banks, whose commitment to excellence appeared to be somewhat feckless, usually responded to adversity by taking a break. After throwing an interception, he’d typically saunter to the bench; replace his helmet with a baseball cap, then sit off to himself to sulk while the defense tried to contain the damage.
Green arrived in town to much fanfare and was the media darling of the ensuing summer training camp. In a little noticed roster move, last year’s third-string QB — some obscure refugee from the Iowa Barnstormers of the Arena League — was promoted to the back-up slot on the depth chart.
That seemingly inconsequential development suddenly became salient in the extreme when Green went down with a season-ending knee injury during a preseason game against the San Diego Chargers.
I’m probably wasn’t the only local who thought Vermeil was either blowing smoke or smoking crack when he subsequently announced that he was confident that the Rams could “win with Kurt.” If Warner was so talented, why did the team sign Green? And why did this diamond in the rough spend the prior year riding the pine behind the lackluster Banks?
The answer to those questions, of course, is that we tend to see what we’re looking for. How was the coaching staff supposed to notice that a former grocery clerk was a future MVP? Management’s blinding mindset was a classic example of self-fulfilling prophecy: If this guy is any good, why are we only paying him the league’s minimum wage?
Kurt’s regular season debut began unremarkably. At the end of the first quarter, the Rams led 3 – 0 by virtue of a Jeff Wilkins field goal. As the second period got under way, the shape of the future began to come into focus.
Warner opened the scoring by hitting back-up tight end, Roland Williams, for the first of his 41 TD passes of the season. Rams 10; Ravens 0. But it was the next St. Louis possession that made a fan of me.
Driving his squad back into Baltimore territory, Warner threw an ill-advised pass to the flat that linebacker Ray Lewis picked off. As Lewis raced toward the far goal line with nothing but daylight in front of him, Warner pursued on a diagonal course — a tactic defensive coaches refer to as “taking the angle.”
The over-matched quarterback eventually caught up to his prey around the Rams 30-yard line and was able to shove him out of bounds, denying Lewis the score. The defense held, and Baltimore settled for a field goal. Had Lewis scored, the Rams’ lead would have been cut to a tenuous 3 points. Instead, they remained up by 7 thanks to the unheralded stand-in’s dogged determination.
On his next possession, the undaunted Warner hit Isaac Bruce for the second of his three TD throws of the day and the Rams cruised to a win by the deceptively comfortable margin of 27-10. That first half action proved to be a microcosm of Kurt’s career to come: unexpected initial success, raw courage in the face of seemingly overwhelming adversity followed by a resilient comeback made possible by stubborn faith in his own abilities.
Warner, of course, is the first to tell you that his professional success was a function of his personal belief in God. Though I’m normally turned off by people who wear their religion on their sleeve, he’s the exception that proves the rule.
There are few public figures for whom I feel such genuine affection. This is a guy who responded to national celebrity as the ringmaster of “The Greatest Show on Turf” by collecting used coats for the homeless. He exudes a kind of naked decency that charms even terminal cynics like myself.
His career stats are off the charts and it says here that if he doesn’t win admission to the Hall of Fame on the first ballot, they ought to raze the place.
Alas, that which allows men greatness carries within it the seeds of ultimate demise. The Greeks referred to this dual-edged quality of triumph as nemesis.
In his last game, while pursuing a defender who’d intercepted an errant pass, Warner was leveled by a vicious — but perfectly legal — blind side block from Saints defensive lineman Bobby McCray. That blow, along with previous concussions and the toll extracted from his 38-year old body by his unforgiving profession, prompted his retirement.
Farewell, old friend, and Godspeed. Don’t be a stranger…
M.W. Guzy is a retired St. Louis cop who currently works for the city Sheriff's Department. His column appears weekly in the Beacon.