On a muggy mid-90’s afternoon, a dozen or so four-year olds
chased a soccer ball with relish. Another sat on the ground picking dandelions,
convinced he would just end up humiliating or hurting himself if he played and unwilling
to huff and puff around a grassy field just to fall on his face, figuratively
and literally. This sports business was too hard, and too confusing, for him to
even bother.
Soon thereafter, however, dandelion kid began paying a
little more attention to the TV show his dad would watch with him around dawn every
morning. And before long, this SportsCenter program turned dandelion kid into a
full-fledged sports-obsessive, a boy who spent his mornings absorbing highlights
and the rest of the day fantasizing about one day emulating the heroes in them.
Now, the boy couldn’t stop chasing the ball.
He enjoyed every second of the
show in the mid-to-late 1990’s. Still, one anchor in particular glued him to
the TV and solidified his burgeoning love for sports: Stuart Scott, the only TV
personality on Earth who could both sound like Tom Brokaw and a cool older
brother within a minute. It’s not as if the boy was scribbling “STUART SCOTT”
on his 1st grade “What Do I Want to be When I Grow Up?” assignments.
But Scott was one of his favorite parts of the boy’s very favorite thing, a comforting
presence even on the boy’s most uncomfortable days.
On January 4, 2015, he
still is.
It’s probably corny and self-serving to discuss Stuart Scott’s
passing this morning—after a seven-year bout with cancer—in the context of my
own life. But I suspect that for the countless others weaned on those Stuart
Scott SportsCenter’s, this feels pretty darn close to a death in the family.
And I’d like to think Scott exemplified the value of risking corniness in the pursuit
of sincerity, anyway.
Tributes and colleagues have rightfully hailed Scott as a
trailblazer. In a profession dominated by dry, aloof white guys, Scott dropped overt
hip-hop references, introduced phrases like “Booyah” and “as cool as the
other side of the pillow,” and generally sounded exhilarated to be talking about sports without sacrificing a shred of his competence as a
news anchor.
Without hyperbole, you can credit Scott with starting a
revolution. The combination of sports, pop culture and anti-pretentiousness which permeates much
of our best sports writing and broadcasting today stems from those Rich Eisen-Scott
SportsCenters, which struck the ideal balance between informational and entertaining.
Scott resonated with so many of us, however, because he
never seemed like he was trying to start a revolution. Stuart Scott never
seemed as if he were building the brand of Stuart Scott, Subversively Hip Sportscaster.
Rather, it felt as if he couldn’t help but express that part of himself. Even
when those silly Booyah’s, the singsong delivery and the outbursts of jocular
UNC homerism were pre-planned, they never seemed contrived. He just wanted to excel at his job without concealing
his personality, regardless of whether his shtick chafed some people or conflicted
with notions of sportscaster “propriety.” In the end, we didn’t love Scott because he
was a game-changing television anchor. We loved Scott because he let us get to
know him.
Scott’s heart-rending speech at the ESPY's this past July embodied
the unrelenting authenticity that made him so special. By being honest—about his
hopes, his fears, his reliance on the people around him—rather than trying to
say the right things or act the “right” way, he inspired us more than he could
ever imagine. Not even the most cynical observer could hear Scott talk about
his daughters and conclude that Scott was trying to curry sympathy or become an
icon. Once again, he just couldn’t help but express that part of himself. And we’re all a little better for it.
Again, folding Scott’s death into my own little narrative is
selfish. I never met Scott, and despite my sorrow at his loss, my life will go
on without the cataclysmic disruption those closest to him are enduring.
Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel an immense debt to Scott for his impact on
the person I’ve become. As my favorite guy on the little sports highlights show
that changed my life, Scott helped me find the courage to love sports without
caring who knew. As an uncompromisingly idiosyncratic sportscaster, he inspired
me to accentuate my quirks in my own work. As a conqueror of cancer—in my book,
yes, he kicked the pants off cancer—and a devoted father, he exemplified the perseverance
that can make you cherish your life even when given every reason to despair.
Most of all, I’ll forever be grateful that I truly did get to know Stuart Scott. Godspeed, Stu. We’ll miss you.
