BARRYS' BREVITY
For years I’ve seen kids and parents chasing highlight reels and scholarships. Then there’s Barry Sanders, the ghost who outran everyone by standing still inside.
As the (not-arguably) greatest running back in history, after being under-recruited to Oklahoma State he rode pine behind Thurman Thomas for two years. Zero gripes (though his teammates, and competitors, knew he was better). When the nod finally came, he erased virtually every NCAA single-season record in a blur.
NFL: 10 straight Pro Bowls. Rookie year, he parks himself on the bench in the final minutes of the finale—on purpose—to let someone else snag the rushing crown. He didn’t care.
Then, when he was one season away from breaking Walter Payton’s all time NFL rushing record, he retired via fax to the Wichita Eagle (Kansas) local news paper.
Simplicity was his steroid
Couldn’t plow linemen, so he danced around them. Off-field: mid-tier house, zero tabloid ink, answers to reporters shorter than a handoff, still lives in Detroit where he played. Chaos subtracted = focus multiplied.
Authenticity was his edge
Never cosplayed Jim Brown or Walter Payton. Just amplified the juke he was naturally born to do. Quiet reader, no end-zone theatrics, no trash talk. Copycats burn energy; originals bank it.
Success didn’t elude Barry—he magnetized it. Nike, Pepsi, megadeals slid into his lap while he flipped pages in a recliner.
I hope this encourages athletes to strip the noise from their lives—whatever that might be. The spotlight finds the steady, not the frantic. But remember, don’t try and be like Barry.
Disclaimer: At times (if they’re longer) I write these articles with AI. This is because I’m not a writer, I’m a distributer of information. As a result, things like pace, style, and tempo may vary. Ideas, perspectives, and information are mine. I organize information, input my point of view, execute necessary edits, then distribute what I believe to be the best versions of what I’m trying to say.