Jim Kelly – more than just a superstar
Kevin Berchou
Sports Columnist
Saturday was a great day for a great man. Sure I'm an unabashed homer, a lifelong fan of the Buffalo Bills, but when Jim Kelly, their quarterback and unquestioned leader, was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame, any football fan couldn't help but feel for the guy.
Kelly was my first real hero. His Sunday miracles are some of my fondest childhood memories. The rocket-armed quarterback came to Buffalo in 1986 to rescue a moribund franchise that had failed to make the postseason in six successive years and proceeded to lead it to eight playoff appearances in his 11 heart-stopping seasons. His career marked the conscious beginning and end of my youth.
Athletic glory came easy for the kid from East Brady, Penn. He was a brash leader, the last quarterback with full control of an offense and the only player in the modern area to call all of his own plays with no help from the sweatshirt clad coaches on the sidelines.
Such an accomplished field general was Kelly that he led the Bill to four consecutive Super Bowl appearances; no other passer has been to as many as three in a row.
They used to say he was the toughest ever to play. There's the story of how he separated a shoulder and reentered a playoff game to throw two touchdowns. Then there's the tale that has him throwing an interception, chasing down the thief, and delivering such a crushing blow that he broke the defender's right leg. If you had amputated that golden right arm, he'd have thrown with his left and probably still beaten Dan Marino more than 70 percent of the time.
Respect my childhood idol for what he was able to do between the lines on Sunday, but please reserve your greatest admiration for what Kelly has done off the field.
Shortly after Kelly walked away from the game, he received the Valentine's Day gift a lifetime, a son named Hunter born on Feb. 14.
Joy, however, was short lived as it was soon discovered that Hunter suffered from a rare affliction known as Krabbe's disease, a fatal curse that severely inhibits development and affects the white matter of the brain. The doctors said it would be a miracle for him to last even 14 months, but Hunter like his dad is a fighter.
After performing miracle after miracle for the Buffalo Bills through the years, Kelly is engineering without doubt his greatest drive as he battles to save the son he loves. Shortly after the ominous diagnosis, Kelly became a leader of a different sort, creating a foundation, christened Hunter's Hope, that raises money for research in the battle to cure Krabbe's.
For Kelly it has become a full-time job. After dabbling in broadcasting for ESPN, he quit to devote all his energies to saving his son. Once burdened by the hopes and dreams of an entire city, Kelly's broad shoulders now carry the hopes only of his young pride and joy.
It's a story that has to make you feel good. It's a story that has a happy ending. Hunter is still very much with us, handicapped but smiling, and making his father smile every day. He'll turn 5 in a week or so, a modern medical miracle given the initial prognosis.
This must be the work of the Jim Kelly I looked up to as a kid. In fourth grade, during that first run to the Super Bowl, I don't think I'd have been surprised if he walked across Lake Erie. I half expected him to. This is just another one of his feats of greatness.
Kelly is an anomaly in this the era of the selfish, overpaid, criminally active athlete. Saturday, when informed of his induction he could respond only in awe, managing to utter a singular "Wow." As a tear came to his eye, Kelly's thoughts quickly turned into his son, perhaps the only guy he knows tougher than he. He spoke fondly of Hunter, wiped a tear from his cheek, and wished only that his young son would make it a few more months and see his father's enshrinement.
Winning one of those four Super Bowls would have been great, but the fact that his beautiful boy is still with us is Kelly greatest victory. My childhood hero has become my adult role model.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer. E-mail Kevin Berchou at Berchou.2@nd.edu.
All Sports Stories for Wednesday, February 6, 2002
