One of the biggest days of my life was when after years of pleading my folks finally went against their better judgment and let me get a dog.
I didn’t have to look hard to find an available pup. Just up the street from my home in Rolla, the poodle of my best friend Randy Carnahan had recently given birth to a litter of puppies. While I think they had intended to breed their dog with another pedigree poodle and then sell the pups, somewhere along the line a neighborhood dachshund and the female poodle had made acquaintances and enjoyed a brief yet passionate fling. The puppies resulting from the carnal encounter were free to a good home.
The dog I brought home wasn’t the smartest or prettiest. In fact, his appearance was almost comical, considering his front dachshund legs were far shorter than his rear poodle legs, giving him an almost dragster-like appearance. None of that mattered to me because Shorty was MY dog.
That may have been when I realized that something doesn’t have to have a pedigree to be special. From that day forward I’ve always found myself pulling for the “mutt” to prevail when tossed in with a pack of pedigrees.
My cheering for the “underdog” stretches far beyond the animal kingdom. I applaud those who are successful professionally, despite not having earned an assortment of degrees. In the world of athletics, I root for the team or individual athlete that overcomes long odds to not only succeed, but reach the top of their sport.
This past week one of my all-time favorite underdogs, NFL quarterback Kurt Warner, announced his retirement.
Without overwhelming you, dear reader, with an assortment of statistics, suffice to say Warner’s football resume is far superior to many of those who were expected to achieve greatness in professional football.
While conceding the man must have been blessed with athletic ability to accomplish what he did during his career, Warner’s path to the pinnacle of his profession was anything but normal. He played his college football at Northern Iowa, which is hardly a quarterback factory of college football. He was not an NFL draft pick. The road to the NFL for Warner included stops in the Arena and NFL Europe leagues.
Even when he made the Rams’ roster in 1998, Warner was never expected to do anything more than hold a clipboard. After he left the Rams, it was assumed Warner’s career was, if not over, on a downhill slope. But in the desert, Warner rekindled his career and last year came within a few plays of winning another Super Bowl, this time with the Arizona Cardinals.
I also appreciated Warner for his character. Despite all his success, he was always quick to credit his creator for having given him the ability and opportunity to succeed on a football field. I’ve always believed his show of faith was genuine. Standing in the glare of the media spotlight as Warner did, any shadow of insincerity would have quickly been revealed.
A few years ago I was loaned Warner’s book “All Things Possible.” In it were contained insights that not only pertain to achieving success in athletics, but in life itself.
“There are so many kids who are good at sports, maybe the best of anyone in their neighborhood. But talent alone guarantees you nothing,” wrote Warner. “To get to the pros, even to make it to the Arena Football League, takes an incredible degree of drive, desire and discipline. When you have the right attitude, your skills can be developed. But intensity is something that can’t be faked, and I definitely had it from the start.”
If there is a lesson to be learned from Warner’s career it’s that one’s pedigree has little to do with achieving success. It’s perseverance that helps an underdog prevail.
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One of the biggest days of my life was when after years of pleading my folks finally went against their better judgment and let me get a dog.
I didn’t have to look hard to find an available pup. Just up the street from my home in Rolla, the poodle of my best friend Randy Carnahan had recently given birth to a litter of puppies. While I think they had intended to breed their dog with another pedigree poodle and then sell the pups, somewhere along the line a neighborhood dachshund and the female poodle had made acquaintances and enjoyed a brief yet passionate fling. The puppies resulting from the carnal encounter were free to a good home.
The dog I brought home wasn’t the smartest or prettiest. In fact, his appearance was almost comical, considering his front dachshund legs were far shorter than his rear poodle legs, giving him an almost dragster-like appearance. None of that mattered to me because Shorty was MY dog.
That may have been when I realized that something doesn’t have to have a pedigree to be special. From that day forward I’ve always found myself pulling for the “mutt” to prevail when tossed in with a pack of pedigrees.
My cheering for the “underdog” stretches far beyond the animal kingdom. I applaud those who are successful professionally, despite not having earned an assortment of degrees. In the world of athletics, I root for the team or individual athlete that overcomes long odds to not only succeed, but reach the top of their sport.
This past week one of my all-time favorite underdogs, NFL quarterback Kurt Warner, announced his retirement.
Without overwhelming you, dear reader, with an assortment of statistics, suffice to say Warner’s football resume is far superior to many of those who were expected to achieve greatness in professional football.
While conceding the man must have been blessed with athletic ability to accomplish what he did during his career, Warner’s path to the pinnacle of his profession was anything but normal. He played his college football at Northern Iowa, which is hardly a quarterback factory of college football. He was not an NFL draft pick. The road to the NFL for Warner included stops in the Arena and NFL Europe leagues.
Even when he made the Rams’ roster in 1998, Warner was never expected to do anything more than hold a clipboard. After he left the Rams, it was assumed Warner’s career was, if not over, on a downhill slope. But in the desert, Warner rekindled his career and last year came within a few plays of winning another Super Bowl, this time with the Arizona Cardinals.
I also appreciated Warner for his character. Despite all his success, he was always quick to credit his creator for having given him the ability and opportunity to succeed on a football field. I’ve always believed his show of faith was genuine. Standing in the glare of the media spotlight as Warner did, any shadow of insincerity would have quickly been revealed.
A few years ago I was loaned Warner’s book “All Things Possible.” In it were contained insights that not only pertain to achieving success in athletics, but in life itself.
“There are so many kids who are good at sports, maybe the best of anyone in their neighborhood. But talent alone guarantees you nothing,” wrote Warner. “To get to the pros, even to make it to the Arena Football League, takes an incredible degree of drive, desire and discipline. When you have the right attitude, your skills can be developed. But intensity is something that can’t be faked, and I definitely had it from the start.”
If there is a lesson to be learned from Warner’s career it’s that one’s pedigree has little to do with achieving success. It’s perseverance that helps an underdog prevail.
