All Through the House not a Creature was Stirring
On January 22, 1989 you could hear a pin drop in family room of my childhood home. Friends and family were huddled around our bulky Sony television set like a camp fire, watching the San Francisco 49ers take on the Cincinnati Bengals in Super Bowl XXIII.
To this day, the matchup between the two best teams in football remains one of the most exciting games I've ever seen.
Down 16-13 with just 3:10 remaining the San Francisco 49ers got the ball on their own 8-yard line. Led by Hall of Fame quarterback and arguably the greatest to ever play the position, Joe Montana marched his team 92 yards in what many still consider the greatest finish in NFL history.
Ask anyone in the San Francisco Bay Area about the historic rally known simply as, "The Drive," and they'll know exactly what you're talking about.
They might even buy you a drink.
Front Row Seat
One of the players standing on the 49er sideline that evening was a young man who not only marveled at Joe Montana's superhuman command of the position but not so secretly coveted the opportunity to do the same.
His name was Steve Young.
The great-great-great grandson of Brigham Young, Steve eventually enrolled in the school named after the leader of the Latter Day Saints movement where he was a member of the football team.
Sort of...
He describes his freshmen year as the loneliest of his young life. To make matters worse, players who didn't suit up for home games sat in the stands instead of the sidelines with the rest of the team.
"My dorm was one block from the stadium. I decided to use my complimentary ticket and went to the game. Nobody knew that I was on the team. Feeling as alone as I ever had in my life I wiped a tear from my cheek and found my seat...I think that's where the distaste I had for watching started."
You Can Quit But You Can't Come Home
Two weeks later Young decided he'd had enough. After just a few weeks he concluded a football life wasn't for him. He phoned his father to share his proclamation.
"I'm done," he said. "I'm coming home."
His father responded by saying,
"You can quit but you can't come home. I don't live with quitters."
Not So Fast
His father's words lit a fire under the man who'd go on to become the NFL's MVP just a few years later. By his second year in school, Young had gone from 8th on the depth chart to back-up quarterback.
By his senior year he was a finalist for the Heisman Trophy, an award given annually to the most outstanding player in college football.
From Hero Back to Zero: Learning How to Survive
In 1985, Young signed with the Tampa Buccaneers. Not only did the team go 2-14 that year but Young wouldn't get an opportunity to play until the 9th game of the season.
"The worst part was watching from the sidelines. Back-up quarterbacks have far too much time on their hands, which was a particularly bad thing for me. I didn't know people in Tampa. After practice I often got in my rental car and drove around by myself. Many nights I ate dinner alone at Wendy's."
He later said Tampa Bay didn't teach him how to play football. It taught him something far more important: how to survive.
"That was the low point of my professional career."
And after the 1986 season the Bucs agreed sending Young packing.
Welcome to San Francisco...sort of
In 1987, lured by the promise he'd play by legendary coach Bill Walsh, Young headed to San Francisco. The only problem for Young was the position he coveted was already helmed by arguably the greatest to ever play quarterback -- Joe Montana.
Over time, the little two-step of playing but mostly watching started to take its toll on Young's psyche.
"The musical chairs approach at the starting quarterback position was driving me nuts. I resented Bill for putting me into games when we were behind and it was too late to catch-up. Joe resented Bill every time he got pulled and I went in. The only thing we shared was mutual frustration toward Bill."
But rather than be thwarted by the quarterback controversy, Young decided to use the competition as an opportunity to get energized.
Keeping the Faith
"Do you know what the secret to life is?"
"No. What?"
"This."
"Your finger?"
"One thing. Just one thing."
"You stick to that and everything else don't mean s%^&."
"That's great but what's the one thing?"
"That's what you gotta figure out."
Those were the words Steve Young poured over again and again. The sage advice came not from some elusive tome, or scholarly text but from Jack Palance and Billy Crystal in the movie, City Slickers.
It was the film that brought Young solace the evening before a big game. And it turned out the role that gave Palance his first supporting role Oscar would help propel Young to a starring one.
In 1991 with Joe Montana injured, it was finally Steve Young's turn to scrap the moniker, "back-up" quarterback. The 4 years Young had dedicated to "staying ready" when the right opportunity presented itself had finally paid off.
Not only did he lead the team to a 10-6 record but in 1992 he became the NFL's MVP.
"Succeeding a legend it no picnic," he said. "But it's also the best thing that has ever happened to me."
The Monkey on His Back
Young led the league in passing for 3 seasons in a row and would go on to win the 3rd of his NFL record 6 passing titles, but what he still didn't have was a Super Bowl trophy.
Just as he'd finally scaled one mountain what he got in return was the opportunity to stare blankly at another.
Thankfully for him, the words of Jack Palance continued to ring true.
"My one thing is faith. Faith. Faith is an energy in my life. Faith is to take that next step. To not stand still. To not worry."
Climbing Your Own Everest
For the 3rd year in a row the San Francisco 49ers would face the Dallas Cowboys in the NFC Championship game. They'd lost the two years before.
But this time Young viewed the seemingly formidable challenge as an opportunity to get excited. He welcome the challenge to find out how great he could be.
"What you're really looking for in life is a platform to find out how good you are," he said.
That afternoon Young and the 49ers finally defeated the Cowboys 38-28. Young had finally emerged from the shadows and become a leader in his own right.
Just a few weeks later Young and the 49ers defeated the Chargers 49-26 in Super Bowl XXIX.
The Importance of Not Losing Perspective
A day later Young waved to a crowd of excited onlookers from a giant float on Disneyland's main street as he and star wide receiver Jerry Rice celebrated the team's recent victory.
Cries of, "Steve you're the greatest!" echoed in the future Hall of Famer's head. For a moment Steve believed the hype and started to drink the cool-aid.
But it only took the simple words of a child to bring him back to earth reminding him of the importance of perspective.
"For about 4 minutes I lost my mind. I am the man! I am the greatest! And I just remember at the end two little kids are sitting down there and the younger one, maybe 6 years old, looks at me and says, Mickey Mouse.
He starts to come towards the float and his brother grabs him and pulls him back and says, You can't get near him. The big guy won't let you. Meaning me.
It was a classic for me. I'm the man! I'm the greatest. Then twenty seconds later I'm Mickey' Mouse's bodyguard. It just goes to show you can put the flag on top but then you got to climb down and life goes on."
Find Out How Great You Can Be
What makes Young's story remarkable was the demanding climb he had to endure. As he weathered adversity, self-doubt, and even humiliation he grew to appreciate the importance of striving towards higher elevation.
Ultimately, it was his ability to stay ready, patient, and resilient that gave him the tools necessary to reach for greater heights and find out just how good he could be.
His story reminds us that we're all capable of climbing our own Everest and that finding our ONE thing is up to us to discover.
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