Beyond The Hardwood

For most of us reading or writing this, sports is life. It means more to us than just throwing a ball down a field, shooting a ball into a basket, or juggling a ball with our feet. 

For us, sports is integral to everything we do. We schedule our lives around our teams, take every opportunity we have to talk about it and we will play them until our body won't allow us to go anymore. We give ourselves to the sport unconditionally for what it will give us in return. 

It taught us how to win humbly, but even more importantly, lose graciously. It taught us strength, heart, conviction, will power, values, work ethic and purpose, all qualities we get from sports to carry into our everyday lives. Qualities we share with others who may not have had our opportunities and experiences, as well as those who have. We get to use those qualities to make a difference with our friends and communities, and help them grow and advance in positive ways. 

A select few get the opportunity to showcase these qualities on a bigger stage, passing on lessons learned from a lifetime of sports to not only their neighborhood or community, but to a nation, and in some cases, the world. They have the unique ability to use their talents for good, and when they do, it's a beautiful thing. 

It's easy for us to lose sight of the good these few athletes do. We get caught up in the money they make, cars and clothes they buy, women they marry, and even how a select few disrespect the gifts they have been given. We have a tendency to get caught up in our own fandom, so much so that we can be blinded to the positives that come from so many players. 

We always find a way to scold the spoiled and egocentric athlete, but we forget to honor, cherish and, most importantly, support the humble athletes who dedicate themselves to philanthropy on behalf of sports. Not because their agent told them to or because they are in trouble and want to clean up their image. They do it simply because it's what they believe in, what's close to their heart, what their parents and role models have taught and inspired them to do over the years. They do it because sports has taught them if they give themselves and devote themselves to a goal, they will be rewarded.

It is these athletes I want to recognize here in a new section called Beyond The Hardwood. I want to draw attention to their cause, help them fight their fight by informing you, the people who embrace sports and it's athletes so vigorously, of what these athletes in various sports are trying to do. 

Let's begin this journey off the hardwood floors and grassy fields, and into the arena of everyday life. Let's do our best to help our teammates in this arena. Give them support, pick them up when they fall, congratulate them when they win, console them when they lose. Let's take advantage of the media tools at our disposal to stand beside our favorite athletes and assist them in helping not only our planet, nations and cities, but also our communities, friends and families. So without further ado, let's step Beyond The Hardwood....

Absorbing a Nation: The Story of the Terrible Towel

In American sports, particularly pro football, there are symbols that represent us. They represent our teams, our cities and the people that live there, were raised there, will die there. These symbols inspire us for years, a single game or sometimes just for a frozen moment. In some cases, they transcend time. Sometimes, the symbol that comes along is embraced to such an extent, it becomes a fabric of everyday life, so recognizable it supersedes its initial purpose, evolves into something more, something that can't be quantified. Sometimes these symbols develop organically, growing within the culture of the fans and eventually breaking into the periphery of the entire sports landscape, to be witnessed and even embraced by all.

Of course, it always starts with an idea, a simple thought that grows into action and substance. Sometimes it's complex, but often enough it's simple. That's where this story begins, on a simple day in 1975.

It's two weeks before the start of the 1975 playoffs. The Pittsburgh Steelers just put the finishing touches on a 10-3-1 regular season and were preparing for a first-round playoff match-up with the 10-4 Baltimore Colts. The management team of WTAE, the Steelers flagship radio station, decided they need a "gimmick" to promote their station, but also help inspire the Pittsburgh fan base in the upcoming playoffs. Initially perplexed to find an idea, vice president and general manager Ted J. Atkins and president of sales Larry Garrett approached radio personality Myron Cope with the the conundrum.

Cope, who had joined the broadcast team five years earlier, had quickly become the voice of the Steelers. Beloved by fans for his distinctive nasally twang, heavy Pittsburgh accent and capricious catch phrases, most notably "Yoi," "Double Yoi" and "Okle Dokle," his radio commentary embodied the spirit of Pittsburgh. Cope had the attention of the Steelers fans and a good indication of what they appreciated. To Atkins and Garrett, it only made sense to ask for his assistance.

Upon first request for help with the "gimmick," Cope refused. He recounts in his book, Double Yoi, he said, "I am not a gimmick guy, never have been a gimmick guy." Cope also thought the Steelers fans -- a group of hard-nosed, no-nonsense, blue-collar workers, much like the team they supported -- would be a bit put-off by a gimmick. But, upon further prodding and debate, including the explanation that this "gimmick" would be a good advantage in his upcoming contract renewal, Cope changed his answer. "I'm a gimmick guy."