Wednesday, November 28, 2007
sean taylor: the baddest mfer ever
i don't know what to say about sean taylor. so many thoughts run through my head about this man, this meast. thoughts about how he was my favorite player, thoughts about how i'm going to go on with my sundays not knowing he's going to be out there, and even thoughts about the family and friends he's left behind.
i also don't know why i feel so attached to taylor. he's only a football player who does his job. he's not an enigmatic personality who talks to the media incessantly. in fact, he shuns the media and lets his play on the field do the talking for him. he's such a mysterious figure. never talks the media and so we could only make assumptions about him based on his balls-to-the-wall type of play and his gangsta-like lifestyle that he lived off the field. and we all made some pretty great assumptions about the man. how he could run through walls, how he could walk on water and not get wet. those kinds of things. a myth, something like a tall tale. you can hype him up so much to the great beast of man that can cure cancer and turn water into wine, but in the end like a tragic hero, he is nothing more than a mere mortal.
i again don't know why i started liking sean taylor. maybe it was because of my obsession about miami. it all started in 8th grade when my friend brian and i would just talk and talk and talk about the u and its greatness. santana moss. clinton portis. jeremy shockey. ed reed. the list goes on and on. but one year this kid comes on the scene with an "i don't give a fuck about you" attitude and lived to jack the shit of his opponents. his name was sean michael maurice taylor. i'll never forget the orange visor. he just looked like a robot with two modes: off and kill. that mentality makes it so easy for a person to fall in love with him. i mean he was my first mancrush. mancrush as in you have greatest and upmost respect for a player that you would do anything for them except anything gay. because gay would be crossing the line from mancrush to unhealthy, gay obsession. anyway, he rocked the u and then the redskins. it was like a dream come true. my favorite player playing for my favorite team. he was a BAMF his first few years, spitting in people's faces, leaving meetings, and even wearing ridiculous socks. i didn't care about what he did, because he had this way about him. this mysterious, dark figure that doesn't give a fuck about anything or anyone. a guy there just to play the game and not to get caught up in the hype. he lived to play the game.
a friend asked me how it felt to know that your favorite player died. i told him i felt like a part of me died today with sean and i don't think i'll ever get it back. people are raised to believed that sports figures are their heroes. superior athletic ability and killer instinct let the cream of the crop rise to the top. and now my hero is dead. he only played three and half years. and now instead of taking my kids to see the twilight of taylor's career. i now have to describe to them taylor and they'll just think i'm some crazy person. they'll never know but i honestly hope that they'll find someone like sean to revere for his play, not his issues. i hope that everyone thanks their lucky stars that they're able to see their player play on sunday, while mine will sit six feet under for the rest of eternity. it's really depressing, but i'll move on. there's no other choice. ave atque vale, sean. wherever it is that you may go, they probably won't flag you for unnecessary roughness there.