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What Steve “Air McNair” Meant to Me
Published: July 7, 2009
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Before this past week, the moment that stands out in my mind when I think of Steve McNair took place during his last days as a Tennessee Titan.
McNair was coming off an injury-riddled 2005 season in which he was 4-10 in the games he started. He was set to count $20 million over the Titans’ salary cap for the 2006 season, and the Titans wanted to restructure his deal to give them some financial flexibility.
The moment itself occurred when McNair showed up at the Titans’ facilities to rehab and to work out in the equipment room. Upon entering the building, he was stopped and refused admission by team officials. Less than two months later he was a Baltimore Raven.
I’ll be honest, I was always a McNair supporter.
I was high on him coming out of the 1995 draft, and was peeved that my Redskins just missed out on him, getting Michael Westbrook as a consolation prize (if you can call it that). All I really knew about him as a 10-year-old is that he threw for tons of yards and touchdowns at Alcorn State—and that he had the coolest nickname around, “Air McNair.”
In a time when I was susceptible to awesome nicknames, and when baseball card manufacturers were keen enough to lure kids to Cumberland Farms with the slim chances of pulling a “Big Hurt” or “Iron Man” card from specific “nickname inserts,” Air McNair was simply the best.
As an aspiring National Football League quarterback (oh to be 10 again), who loved to tuck the ball and run as much as I did, to hurl it down-field in a ghastly looking spiral, McNair represented all I wanted to be.
I was too young to be a child of the Randal Cunningham era, and too interested in the “new and improved” to realize what I had in John Elway, and McNair was instantly my guy.
So of course I wore No. 9. Partially (40 percent) in honor of Orioles center-fielder Brady Anderson, but mostly (60 percent) in honor of McNair. The other half was because of Yogi Berra. And while I was tossing long bombs and scrambling for first downs, rocking “Air’s” number, I was living the dream.
Had I been bread into a Baltimore area football fan, instead of taking the Redskins route, I would have been all the more pleased when the Titans gave up on McNair and the Ravens scooped him up. And even more so when “Air” led a rag-tag group to a 13-3 record and a division crown.
Instead, I sat and admired the player McNair had become. A mobile passer with intangibles that ranked up there with the best of them. An amazing leader. An insane amount of guts, courage, and testicular fortitude. A true professional.
It made me all the more sad to hear the news about McNair this past weekend. After days of quiet reflection, in fleeting moments—at work, in line at the supermarket, on the john—it finally dawned on me why I felt this loss so much more than I did for Michael Jackson. Air McNair was a hero.
Not a man of Pat Tillman’s stature, or any other Purple Heart deserving folk. He was a guy who went about his business the right way, never felt he was entitled to anything, and most importantly to me, realized the power he had as a role model, and used it to make other people’s lives better.
Beyond all the touchdowns and passing yards, despite the findings of whatever happened inside that Nashville apartment, and even putting aside the sweet nickname—I’ll forever count myself in the group of football loving fans (aka kids) who call McNair my hero.
A Look Back at the Redskins’ 2009 Draft
Published: April 30, 2009
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Yeah, the Redskins took Brian Orakpo with their first pick in the 2009 draft. But who else did they snag? More importantly, who are Kevin Barnes, Cody Glenn, Robert Henson, Eddie Williams and Marko Mitchell? And what roles will they play heading into the 2009 season, if any?
Let’s take a closer look at the 2009 Washington Redskins draft class.
