THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, April 20, 1995 TAG: 9504200014
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A14 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
LENGTH: Medium: 57 lines
According to the fashionable cynicism, there are no heroes anymore. The retirement of Joe Montana from professional football after 16 years is a reminder such pessimism is misplaced.
To begin with the obvious: The man had superlative skills at the game he loved to play. No one more gracefully eluded tacklers. No one more courageously stood and delivered. No one could match his ability to put a pass here, there, anywhere.
But even more important were his skills as a leader. He was a brilliant field general, smart at a time when stupid is glorified. He saw more than other players and could act on it instantly. He'd find open receivers where others would find none at all and have the ball in their hands as if by magic.
Yet he was self-effacing at a time when showboating was the norm, good humored when bad attitude was in, ever the gentleman though toughness was often equated with loutishness.
Finest of all was his determination. There was no quit in Montana. He had steely resolve and unfailing optimism. He convinced his teams that as long as he could step on the field and time hadn't expired, they still could win.
And win they did. His Superbowl record is unmatched. His comeback victories are legendary. His two-minute drills sheer poetry. He may as well start writing his Hall of Fame speech now. He was simply the best ever. But for that reason, it was a surprise to be reminded that he was a very late draft pick. Scouts, managers, owners had grave doubts about Montana's quality.
Here was a guy who looked like Barry Manilow and had the body of an average Joe, not some bionic superstar. He was thought too frail to last as a pro quarterback. His arm was thought too weak.
If Montana were the sort of guy to enjoy the last laugh, he's had plenty of opportunity. But instead, Montana was the kind of guy to persevere and let his performance do the talking. And now he has slipped quietly into retirement. Not staying too long. Not making a big deal of it. If anyone needs a role model; Montana will do.
His experience with the draft, in particular, teaches two useful lessons. First, the experts, the managers, the bosses, the know-it-alls in charge who don't actually have to play the game often don't have a clue. Their statistics and charts don't tell them a thing about heart and smarts and grit.
Second, no one would have known they were wrong unless Montana had proved them wrong by playing, and taking joy in the playing. A quote from Churchill frequently heard these days might as well have been Montana's motto too. It's good advice for anyone feeling unappreciated. ``Never give up. Never, never, never, never.'' ILLUSTRATION: JOE MONTANA
by CNB