The ancient Greek philosophers considered sport a religious and moral undertaking, points out writer George Will. "Sport, they said, is morally serious because mankind's noblest aim is the loving contemplation of worthy things, such as beauty and courage."
Our world seems to have forgotten that. Winning has become more important than any kind of contemplation. Yet in the lives of some of today's players, the moral element of the game still burns bright. They epitomize grace and skill, courage and the ability to overcome odds and, above all, the faith of a deeply religious life. They are able to combine the pressures of competition with creeds of spirituality that make them winners, whatever the score."Sports," wrote the legendary Heywood Hale Broun, "don't build character. They reveal it."
UTAH JAZZ GUARD Jeff Hornacek grew up as a Lutheran. But when he met and married his wife, Stacy, a Catholic, they felt it would be better if they raised their family in one faith. "I had to take classes, but it was an easy transition," he says. And it was no token conversion. "My wife says that because I came to it later, maybe I'm more spiritual - that's not quite true, because she is a very spiritual person - but more interested - not that either, because she's very interested - but maybe it means more, if you get what I mean."
What he means is that his religion is a vital part of his life, both on and off the court. "I know that God is always by my side - if things are going well, and if they are not going well."
Right now things are going very well for Hornacek. He finished last year - the best ever for the franchise - as Utah's second-leading scorer, averaging 14.5 points per game. Over his 11-year career, he has averaged 14.9 points, 5.2 assists and 3.5 rebounds. And so far this year, he's on a pace to continue that.
He has found a home that he enjoys with the Jazz in Utah. With their three kids Ryan, Tyler and Abigale, the Hornaceks are building a house in Holladay and plan to make Utah their permanent home when he leaves the game a few years down the road. He is one of the top players, both in terms of production and leadership. He has a three-point shot that is pure poetry.
Basketball means a lot to him. But, he says, it is not the most important thing in his life. "I'm trying to be a good husband and father. I'm trying to help raise our children. Basketball is a secondary thing."
A lot of the problems professional athletes have, he says, come when they get wrapped up thinking of themselves only as pro athletes and let the sport become the whole focus of their lives.
That's not the case with most of the Jazz players, he says, which has made it an especially nice atmosphere. There isn't any ridicule for living up to high standards. "John Stockton and Adam Keefe are both Catholics, and we try to go to church together when we're on the road."
Each of the players has a way of preparing for a game. "I try to always say a little prayer before and afterward, thanking God for the effort He let me have that night."
Humility is not a problem. "With me playing, I know I always can do better. I don't get too high on myself in that aspect."
All he asks is for the ability to go out and give his best effort, and then he knows it's up to him to do just that. "I think of myself as a competitor. I try to play within the rules and play as hard as I can. Sometimes the emotions get to you, and after the fact I think `why did I do that?' It helps to step back and take a look."
And, he admits, more than once "I've had to ask forgiveness for yelling at a referee."
For Hornacek, the road to the top wasn't one straight path. But he credits his faith for a lot of his success."A lot of things just happened to work out for me. I think back at those opportunities that were created, and it seems more than just luck. I've been blessed with opportunities and with ability."
Back in high school, for example, he wasn't even a starter on the basketball team. It wasn't until the day that his best friend left school at lunch and got in an auto accident that Hornacek got his break. The friend wasn't hurt, but he was suspended for a violation of school policy.
The same thing happened in college. He wasn't recruited and even worked at a Sweetheart paper cup factory for a few months before he was encouraged to be a walk-on at Iowa State. He eventually made the team and got a scholarship, ending up with a degree in accounting and a Big Eight record for assists in one season. He was named Honorable Mention on the AP All-America team.
Drafted by Phoenix in 1986, he began to show his full capability and even made the All-Star team. He was traded to Philadelphia in 1993 (in the deal that sent Charles Barkley to the Suns); he joined the Jazz in 1994.
"I've always believed that if you work hard, good things will happen. But I also believe God gives opportunities to people, and those who choose to use the correct way get their full potential.
"If you get in a situation, if you get an opportunity, you have to believe God put you there for a reason, and then go out there and make the most of it, pass something on to your family and the community."
Hornacek realizes that he is in a position where people pay attention to him. "If I was just a normal guy, I wouldn't be noticed as much."
But he says he doesn't like to think of himself as a role model as much as "just a person with good values."
"If you're nice to people, they will be nice to you," he says.
He and his wife do a lot of work in the community, donating both time and money. One of his favorites is a reading program. "We tell kids to develop their minds, to use their brains to enhance their lives."
The biggest concern out there is family life, he says. "Families have to stick together."
His own family is a source of abiding joy. "It's great to see my family develop in that way," he says, to see them learn and grow spiritually and enjoy time together.
And if he never makes the headlines for just being a good guy, that doesn't bother him one bit. "In sports, the outrageous often gets the attention. People with strong religious beliefs don't care if the media is putting them on the front page or not. We just go about your business, do the best we can."
He's got bigger things on his mind: his family and his God. "Your belief in God has to be there," he says, and then everything else falls into place.
IF YOU'RE LOOKING for faith on the football field, you don't have to look much farther than San Francisco 49er Steve Young. A member of the LDS Church and descendant of pioneer-era prophet Brigham Young, he has earned wide respect both inside and outside the sport because of his ability, certainly, but also because of his values.
"Here is a guy," TV analyst and former teammate Matt Millen told Scripps Howard News Service, "who merely has endured the ridicule of joining the USFL right out of college, the embarrassment of playing in Tampa Bay and the ceaseless calls for his head while playing in the shadow of Joe Montana. Still he endured, finally leading the 49ers to a post-Montana Super Bowl victory, while winning over teammates and the oh-so-tough-to-please fans of the Bay Area."
What impressed Millen the most, he said, was Young's work ethic and his competitive nature. "It meant something to him to get better in practice when he was throwing against nobody. . . . There was a time when the 49ers got upset at Steve because he wouldn't cash his checks. He just wants to go out and compete. He would collect his checks, put them in a dresser drawer and forget about them."
Steve's career in the NFL, his payment of dues, his conflicts with the legendary Joe Montana, his prowess as both a passing and a scrambling quarterback have been well documented.
But for him, football has never been the most important thing in his life. "I think about what I would say if the Lord came to me and asked, `Steve, what have you done with your life?' " he told a fireside group in Ogden. "I want to be able to say something the Lord would know was meaningful . . . I was a good brother. I was a good son. I honor the priesthood. I try to treat people fairly, honestly. . . . I value my testimony more than anything on earth, and I would give my life for it."
His commitment to his religion was one he made early, says his mother, Sherry, speaking from their Connecticut home. "He had to make choices early in life. He choose to be a good-living Mormon."
And he likes to share his testimony whenever the demands of his career let him. "He didn't serve a church mission because of other opportunities. But talking at firesides and conferences - that's kind of been his mission. He likes to do that. But he's always been a giver anyway. It's been a wonderful opportunity for him to be an example." (Interestingly, his brother Jimmy will be leaving for a church mission on Dec. 31; he'll be serving in Oakland.)
But if Steve likes talking to church groups, he is not necessarily comfortable with his place in the spotlight. "Don't waste your time worshiping sports heroes, rock stars, movie idols," he told a San Francisco group. "Please just worship God, your Heavenly Father. Turn to him in faith, let him take you by the hand and lead you through this life. He will not let you down."
That faith has led Steve through a successful career, through all the turmoil on the gridiron. "Certainly part of his career has been very, very difficult," says Sherry. "We were all very naive when it all happened. And looking back, I'm just grateful Steve is the kind of person he is. I'm amazed at how honest he is and how much he stays the same."
It's been rewarding, too, she says, to see the kinds of friends he chooses. "Harris Barton, Jerry Rice. He always seems to find the good in whatever he does."
Of all the football honors that have come his way, she says she thinks he has been most honored by winning the Eshmont Award a couple of times. "That's voted on by teammates and honors leadership. That's been very special for him. It's nice to have people recognize his inner strength."
And while Steve is respected for his ability to concentrate on the game of football, he also has been able to look beyond the sport. The fact that he earned his law degree in off-season is proof of that. "It's remarkable to put that much time and energy into it - not that he isn't capable. But after a full NFL season, all that pressure day after day, week after week, it's nice to kick back and go play golf. You almost need that. To jump feet-first into school takes a lot of determination."
But that's not to minimize Steve's accomplishments on the field. Nor to downplay his abiding love of the game. Will there be another Super Bowl in Steve's future? Things look better this year than they have for awhile. "After that first game (when Steve was knocked out with a concussion and the team lost) we thought this is going to be a very long season," says Sherry.
But it got better. She admits she watches every game with a bit of trepidation. "But when it's over and done with, and I see Steve healthy and well, I think, this is great! Is there anything greater?"
It might, indeed, be another exceptional year for the 49ers. It will be, if Steve Young has anything to say about it.
But Steve also has a way of putting it all in perspective. "If a football player is fortunate enough to go all the way, he wins a Super Bowl ring and the reassuring feeling that he has overcome the odds and endured to the end of the season," he said at a San Francisco fireside. But that doesn't compare to enduring to the end of the quest to serve the Lord.
"I have come to understand that life's whole process is really a walk in faith. It is faith that prepares you for that next experience, it is faith that makes you understand clearly that there is something to learn from every experience, and faith reassures you that there is life way beyond football."
"SINCE BASEBALL TIME is measured only in outs," wrote Roger Angell in "The Summer Game," "all you have to do is succeed utterly; keep hitting, keep the rally alive, and you have defeated time. You remain forever young."
That's what they said about Brett Butler when he retired from the L.A. Dodgers at the end of the 1997 season. He was one of the best, they said, one of the players that epitomized the joy and timelessness of the sport. A player who embodied all that was good, an inspiration both on and off the court.
That's not what they said in the early days. Brett Butler was always told he was too small to play baseball. From his first days in sandlot sports, he was the smallest kid around, the last one chosen for teams, always the one with something to prove. In high school, he was not even a starter; in college he was a walk-on. Despite a stellar career in college, he was a 23rd-round draft pick, and then only drafted as a favor to his coach.
He became one of the great lead-off hitters in the game, known for his bunting ability, his prowess as a base-stealer and for his fielding skill. His lifetime fielding average of 0.992, in fact, is second all-time. He consistently hit around 0.300.
Playing with Atlanta, Cleveland, the New York Mets and most recently the L.A. Dodgers, his career spanned 18 full and productive years.
It was never easy, plagued by untimely trades, unpopular stands in labor negotiations and always the need to prove himself. In 1996 came one of the biggest challenges of his life. Bothered by a nagging sore throat, Butler went to Atlanta in May for what he thought would be a routine tonsillectomy. Doctors found a cancerous tumor the size of a plum.
No one gave him much chance of ever playing baseball again. But that was enough of a challenge for Butler that he set out to prove them wrong. He rejoined the Dodgers in August and played just five games; while trying to bunt he was hit by a ball that broke a bone in his left hand.
Still, he said, he would be back for one more season; and he was, playing a final year for the Dodgers in 1997.
Through all that, he was sustained by his family, and even more than that his faith in God.
"Baseball is the foundation of my life and always will be," he wrote in "Field of Hope," a book detailing his life on and off the field. "But even more than baseball, my faith in Christ is my strength and at the core of my being. We don't know why things like this happen, but we know that God's will is perfect."
Butler is a born-again Christian, and that faith has been a vital part of his life throughout his career, both sustaining him and sometimes drawing unwanted attention. "I've been known as a Christian ball-player, and at times people have accused me of being a little too enthusiastic or overt about it. Christian players often suffer from this criticism. People think we're out to force our beliefs on other people. In my opinion that can't be done."
Everyone has to find their own faith, he says.
Nor does he try to set himself up as better than anyone else. He has been called a hypocrite, he says, and admits he has been inconsistent at times. But he answers that criticism by saying "I never said I was perfect. That's why I need Christ in my life."
Despite all the challenges, in looking back on his life and career, there is not much Butler would change. He and his wife, Eveline, are parents of three children and make their home in the Atlanta area; they have friends and family they enjoy. He has had a stellar career. "If God had come to us when we met and said, `Choose your lives, whatever you want, and you can have it,' we would never have chosen anything as wonderful as the way it turned out. Even with everything we've gone through, we wouldn't have dreamed to ask for all we have received."
This last year has meant a lot to him - to be able to play one more year, to be able to leave the game he loves on his own terms. And he hopes the lessons that he has learned help and inspire other people both in and out of sports.
"I've learned so much in the last two years. Life is not about circumstances. Life is about attitude. God allowed me to step back and see how blessed I am, much like the story of George Bailey in `It's A Wonderful Life.' That was a rare and interesting privilege. . . . God gave me nothing I wanted, but everything I needed."