Commentary: McNair, George built cheers from quiet times

Of course, there were moments that sent tens of thousands of people into full-throated roars, to chant their names and to salute their singular skills.

Some they created on their own. Others were the result of their collective efforts.

When you think about the greatness of Eddie George and Steve McNair, though, it is important to remember the quiet times, those moments when no one was looking at them, when they inside themselves at who they were and what they could be. That was where it started, for George in suburban Philadelphia and for McNair in rural Mississippi, and that was where it was nurtured throughout the course of their professional careers, the most memorable portions of which played out with the Tennessee Titans.

The Titans formally acknowledged that greatness during Sunday’s game with the Indianapolis Colts when it retired their respective numbers, George’s 27 and McNair’s 9.

Like everyone else (except, at times, McNair), George would practice on Wednesday and Thursday.

It was Friday, though, when he would really start to prepare for a game. That is when you would see him with his helmet in both hands, tucked behind his back as he started to wander. Back and forth he went when he was not involved in what took place at a particular moment. He talked to no one. He paid no attention to what his teammates did. His gaze typically was skyward but – truth be told – his focus was inward.

It was then that he envisioned what was to come on Sunday or on Monday or on Thursday. It was when he imagined himself coming face to face with Ray Lewis or Kevin Hardy or Levon Kirkland. He imagined every game scenario, every time he might get the ball and every situation that might arise – and he saw himself succeeding.

Keep in mind, George’s ability to picture what would happen was central to the fact that he became the player he did in the first place. Heavily recruited out of high school by Penn State, he ultimately rejected that school’s overtures because the coaches, led by Joe Paterno, wanted him to be a linebacker – and Penn State was known for producing some of the best linebackers in the history of college football.

George saw himself as a running back. So he went to Ohio State and won the Heisman Trophy following his junior season. The Titans – they were still the Houston Oilers then – took him with the 14overall pick in the 1996 NFL Draft and he became the first player in NFL history with 300 or more carries in each of his first eight seasons. His career average of 1,160 rushing yards per season is seventh best among backs who played at least six seasons.

McNair also drew interest from some of the country’s most notable college football programs. Most wanted him to play safety, a position at which he undoubtedly would have been a force.

He chose not to look at it as discriminatory, although it almost certainly was, at least by some. At the time, there was still a debate about whether a black man could (or should) be a quarterback. In McNair’s mind, though, it was simply a matter of where teams wanted their best athlete. So he went to Alcorn State, where he could play quarterback.

Not one to dwell on things, he was one who was at his best when he was relaxed, which is why on Sundays (or whatever day the Titans played) he took a nap in the locker room prior to the contest. As kickoff approached, he wanted to clear his mind rather than fret about opposing players and schemes and potential late-game situations.

Make no mistake: McNair was not a dreamer. He was realistic about, and comfortable with all he could do. It did not surprise him that he rewrote the NCAA record book in college, became the third overall pick in the 1995 NFL Draft or that he was named the NFL’s co-MVP (a first for a black quarterback) in 2003.

In their formative years, Eddie George and Steve McNair were no different than most other elite athletes. People told them they would be great. But those people offered their respective visions of greatness.

Neither listened. Each instead saw his greatness on his own terms and was unrelenting in his pursuit to proof he was correct. That is why George became one of the most dependable, durable and dogged runners of his generation. That is why McNair became one of the most combustible, competitive and courageous quarterbacks of all-time.

And it is why the greatness of each remains so apparent … years after the cheers subsided.