What Steve McNair taught me
In 2003, I had recently graduated from college and found myself moving from Texas to Tennessee to do a media relations internship with the Tennessee Titans.
I arrived at the Baptist Sports Park about three weeks before training camp started, and while getting acclimated to a new city I was also discovering that I knew less about football and public relations than I originally thought.
Over the next couple of months I found that while some players were happy to give a quick interview, others avoided it like the plague; they’d leave the practice facility before I could get them on the phone with their hometown newspaper.
But there were always a few players that stood out as real pros, regardless if the PR director was asking them to do something or a 23 year-old intern was asking them.
Steve McNair was one of those pros that would always oblige my requests for his time. He understood that continued success and exposure would require more time with reporters, sportscasters and radio personalities. They sometimes had to wait and wait, but he always showed up.
He treated the media, his teammates, coaches, front office staff and interns with respect, and in turn he was revered as a class-act. He was honest and forthcoming, humble and tough.
When McNair retired, Paul Kuharsky (who was then writing for The Tennessean) wrote of McNair’s capacity to hold himself accountable with a story about fishing. He ended the story with the following sentence:
When he heads inside that day, if he hasn’t landed dinner, McNair won’t for a second think about blaming the fish.
So often in professional sports, athletes are quick to blame their shortcomings and failures on someone else. But McNair never did, even when he could have. And for that, I have nothing but respect and admiration for him.
I will always remember my season with the Titans in 2003, McNair’s MVP year. I’m deeply saddened that young players today will not be able to learn from his perseverance, humility and competitiveness. Because it is these characteristics that cannot be taught with words or stories, but through actions only.