story that coach

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

The Viking Cowboy


By Ruth Senter, "Startled by Silence"

Book: Stories for a Man's Heart, The Viking Cowboy (orig. title)


"WHEN YOUR JOB MAKES YOU DEAF..."

When does a job become more important than the people you love? I've

often asked myself that question. In an unexpected way, I met an
answer.

His ten-gallon hat barely cleared the doorway as he boarded Flight
721 in St. Louis. As he moved his towering frame down the aisle,
swung his genuine cowhide case into the overhead compartment, and eased into
the seat next to mine, I could tell this was no ordinary cowboy.

He was cool and masculine as any aftershave commercial. He knew all
the right lines and used them generously on everyone around him. I
buried myself in my "Mainliner" magazine and tried not to notice. I wasn't
enamored with a cowboy who appeared to have an ego twice the size of
his hat. And I wasn't about to fall for his act.

"That's a good article?" his voice boomed in my direction.

"Uh-huh."

"Ever heard of the Minnesota Vikings? I play football for them."
Something in his tone sounded haunting. I sensed there was more he
wanted to say. I closed my magazine and listened. He glanced across
the aisle, then back at me. No one was watching. He quit acting.
"Golden boy. Down the tubes." As he motioned thumbs down. I noticed
his ring with an NFL insignia.

"See these eyes? They're red from crying. Just left my wife and two
sons. Can't even be with them anymore. Kicked out of my own
house. Didn't know football players cried, did you?"

As 727 roared toward Chicago, he spilled out the pieces of his broken
dream. Hard work. Irregular schedules. Frequent moves. Always the
excuse that someday they would have time for each other. But one day there
was no more someday.

"You know what my job became?" he asked. An ego trip, that's
what! After a while, my job was everything. Couldn't even hear what my
family was saying.

"You wrote articles. Tell your readers that when a job makes you deaf

to your family, you'd better quit. Tell 'em I said so -- and I ought
to know!"

We pulled up to the United gate, but even the congestion on the
Concourse E didn't interrupt the cowboy's discourse. "You've got your
family," he exclaimed. "Hang on to them for all you're worth. Make
them feel they're the most important to you. It's an empty world without
them. I ought to know."

He tipped his ten-gallon hat in my direction, and I watched him climb
into his waiting limousine and head for downtown Chicago. Tomorrow, I
thought, he'll be back running touchdowns.

"Tell your readers," he'd said to me, "when your job makes you deaf to
your family you'd better quit." I promised him I would.

Blogged on 9:15 PM by Upay

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