RIP Darryl Stingley

Yes I remember that story. It was very well written.

 

Me, too. One of the first sports-writing pieces that really hit home.

 

OK, OK, not arguing with your theology here, but do you have to use f%$#&*^ as an adjective attached to God in any way, shape or form. I find that horribly offensive, ugly and unnecessary, regardless of your personal theology.

 

That was a great piece.

Do you remember who wrote it?

 

Chicago Tribune story ... interesting that HBO wanted to get them togethera few years ago, and Stingley said, "Thanks, but no thanks."

Darryl Stingley dead at 55
By Jeremy Gorner
Tribune staff reporter

April 5, 2007, 6:53 AM CDT

Former pro football wide receiver Darryl Stingley, a quadriplegic who became a symbol of the game's violence, died early this morning at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, according to the Cook County medical examiner's office. He was 55.

The cause of death was not immediately available. An autopsy will be performed later today.

He was found unconscious in his apartment in the 400 block of East Randolph Street around 2:30 a.m., authorities said. His caretaker called police, and he was taken to Northwestern, said Chicago Police Lt. James Sazama. Stingley was pronounced dead at 3:28 a.m.

Stingley's life changed forever on Aug. 12, 1978 in a preseason game against the Oakland Raiders. A wide receiver for the New England Patriots, Stingley was the victim of a vicious but legal hit by Oakland Raiders defensive back Jack Tatum. The blow broke Stingley's neck and left him a quadriplegic for life.

Stingley grew up in Chicago and was a star player at John Marshall High School, where he was a standout running back. He received a scholarship to Purdue University, where he was converted to wide receiver. He was a first-round draft pick of the Patriots in 1973.

In 1983, he wrote "Happy to Be Alive," a memoir of his life and injury.

He continued to call Chicago home. One of his three sons, Derek, starred in the Arena Football League.

Stingley recalled the viscious hit in a 2004 interview with the Tribune. "There was no penalty called on the play and there was a lot of controversy about it," he said. "The best thing that resulted is that the game changed in terms of officiating and what they call excessive violence. It has opened the game up to allow receivers to get downfield. And it has made the game more exciting."

But reconciling his fate was no easy task for him. His downtown condo had been been renovated to accommodate his special needs.

"I was at my peak at that time . . . You have to try to find a rhyme or reason when things like that happen," he said in the 2004 interview. "It took me a while to exorcise all the demons. All I had to do was come out of the house or travel around the country. Everybody I came in contact with let me know there was more of a purpose for me in life than looking at it negatively. So I decided to look at it in a positive way."

In 1993, Stingley formed a non-profit foundation in 1993 to help give direction to troubled youngsters on Chicago's West Side where he grew up.

"He was a good child, he was a good, giving person," said his mother, Hilda M. Stingley, 83. "Everyone who knew Darryl loved Darryl. Twenty-eight years he struggled with this, and now he doesn't have to (struggle) anymore."

Tatum suffered his own setbacks, eventually losing his left leg to diabetes and his right leg to an arterial blockage.

Tatum wrote a book, "They Call Me Assassin," celebrating his reputation as a vicious hitter. On the 25th anniversary of his hit on Stingley, HBO attempted to put the two together on the air. Stingley declined.

Stingley said at the time that he was willing to talk to Tatum, but he wouldn't be exploited.

"It's still a story that everybody, including me, would like some closure on," he said then. "But it seems like every time we get to that point, there is something on his side where he is trying to capitalize from it.

"When it looked like he was about to lose his leg to diabetes, it was another opportunity for him to seize the moment like he did two or three years ago when he also wanted to set up something. We found out he was releasing another book. I'm not available to help people sell books. I couldn't let three minutes on the air cheapen the story. I went through a lot. If they want to bring closure, then there should be some real healing in it. Something in the area of a spiritual reconciliation."

 

no i don't. But check out this quote.
Much has been made of Tatum's refusal to apologize to Stingley or visit him in the hospital. The lingering memory of Tatum is that lack of remorse, which seemed to personify the darker impulses and violence that many saw inherent in the NFL. Tatum was demonized by some because he bragged in his book about his reputation for inflicting pain, thereby coldly making money off the persona that resulted from Stingley's paralysis. And of course, as a longtime Raider, Tatum was a regarded as a renegade almost automatically.

"I'm not going to beg forgiveness,'' Tatum said in a 2003 interview, as the 25th anniversary of the Stingley hit neared. "That's what people say: You never apologized. I didn't apologize for the play. That was football. I was sorry that he got hurt. Even today, people still think I'm a bad guy.''

 

And I'd have to disagree with you there.

Breathing 1, not breathing 0.

 

Nope, which I always thought was a little strange. Ben Watson is wearing it now.

 

No, that's not living, that's existing.
1-1, shottie. Sorry.

 

I don't know, Stephen Hawking is doing some great things.

 

Thoughts and prayers to the Stingley - I happened to be at that preseason game when he was hit - player was down, time was out, so I went to get some food. I still feel bad about that. I don't think we as fans appreciate the extreme danger the sport poses. I know I didn't until then. Rest in Peace Darryl. We appreciate the example you set.