Unlike his coach and many of his teammates, Jon Runyan gets it.
He seems to understand his role as a pro athlete, and the often contentious relationship with the media and fans that go with it.
You never get the feeling that Runyan is anything other than honest. He doesn’t fawn over reporters and give puffy answers to questions. He also doesn’t simply blow them off, dripping with arrogance as the head coach of his team too often does.
Maybe it’s because Runyan seems to have aspirations of one day joining the media when his playing days are over. His answers actually show some thought, an attempt to peel back the covers on the life of a pro athlete and offer the fans – through the media – a look from the inside.
That was never more apparent than during his radio show on 610-WIP Monday night. The Delaware Valley sports community had been ablaze for the previous 24 hours, since the team’s star quarterback stood in front of a bank of microphones and admitted he didn’t know the rules of his own game when it came to overtime.
McNabb stumbled when he bumbled the initial question, saying he was not aware the game would end in a tie if no one scored in the overtime period. But in classic McNabb fashion, he then promptly dug the hole just a little bit deeper. McNabb went on to wonder what would happen should something similar occur in the Super Bowl or the playoffs. Uh, Donovan, the rules are different in the playoffs. They actually play until someone wins.
To me, Runyan put the story in a little different light. He seemed stunned not so much that McNabb didn’t know the rules (hey, my guess is there’s a lot of rules that players don’t actually know. The same goes for newspaper editors. Quizzed on the rules, I would likely embarrass myself. But I certainly did know the basics of overtime, as I am guessing just about every serious fan watching that game did) but by something that went unsaid.
McNabb certainly was not alone on the Eagles team in being unaware of the rules.
What stood out to Runyan is not that McNabb didn’t know the rule, but that he would so cavalierly admit it during a live post-game TV interview that would soon be the talk of the league.
Exactly. Donovan didn’t seem to understand that his not knowing the rule was a big deal, or at least that it was going to be perceived that way.
It merely reinforced one of my beliefs about pro athletes. Increasingly they are not like you and me. We live and die with the games. They simply play them. Their lives could not be more different than ours. They live and toil in another world, one that we only occasionally are allowed a glimpse of, including those few precious hours on Sunday afternoons.
They make millions of dollars to play a kid’s game.
They used to be our neighbors. Not anymore. They don’t live in our neighborhoods. They are part of the athletic aristocracy, entitled because of the amazing feats their bodies allow them to perform.
Jon Runyan didn’t say it. He didn’t have to. Reading between the lines, you could see that he simply could not comprehend McNabb’s gaffe.
He gets it. It’s a shame more of his teammates – and his coach – do not.
He seems to understand his role as a pro athlete, and the often contentious relationship with the media and fans that go with it.
You never get the feeling that Runyan is anything other than honest. He doesn’t fawn over reporters and give puffy answers to questions. He also doesn’t simply blow them off, dripping with arrogance as the head coach of his team too often does.
Maybe it’s because Runyan seems to have aspirations of one day joining the media when his playing days are over. His answers actually show some thought, an attempt to peel back the covers on the life of a pro athlete and offer the fans – through the media – a look from the inside.
That was never more apparent than during his radio show on 610-WIP Monday night. The Delaware Valley sports community had been ablaze for the previous 24 hours, since the team’s star quarterback stood in front of a bank of microphones and admitted he didn’t know the rules of his own game when it came to overtime.
McNabb stumbled when he bumbled the initial question, saying he was not aware the game would end in a tie if no one scored in the overtime period. But in classic McNabb fashion, he then promptly dug the hole just a little bit deeper. McNabb went on to wonder what would happen should something similar occur in the Super Bowl or the playoffs. Uh, Donovan, the rules are different in the playoffs. They actually play until someone wins.
To me, Runyan put the story in a little different light. He seemed stunned not so much that McNabb didn’t know the rules (hey, my guess is there’s a lot of rules that players don’t actually know. The same goes for newspaper editors. Quizzed on the rules, I would likely embarrass myself. But I certainly did know the basics of overtime, as I am guessing just about every serious fan watching that game did) but by something that went unsaid.
McNabb certainly was not alone on the Eagles team in being unaware of the rules.
What stood out to Runyan is not that McNabb didn’t know the rule, but that he would so cavalierly admit it during a live post-game TV interview that would soon be the talk of the league.
Exactly. Donovan didn’t seem to understand that his not knowing the rule was a big deal, or at least that it was going to be perceived that way.
It merely reinforced one of my beliefs about pro athletes. Increasingly they are not like you and me. We live and die with the games. They simply play them. Their lives could not be more different than ours. They live and toil in another world, one that we only occasionally are allowed a glimpse of, including those few precious hours on Sunday afternoons.
They make millions of dollars to play a kid’s game.
They used to be our neighbors. Not anymore. They don’t live in our neighborhoods. They are part of the athletic aristocracy, entitled because of the amazing feats their bodies allow them to perform.
Jon Runyan didn’t say it. He didn’t have to. Reading between the lines, you could see that he simply could not comprehend McNabb’s gaffe.
He gets it. It’s a shame more of his teammates – and his coach – do not.
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