There’s something about the aging warrior, the survivor, the
athlete who falls off the horse into the has-been abyss and yet
struggles mightily to climb back on that grips the American
psyche.
There’s something about the aging warrior, the survivor, the athlete who falls off the horse into the has-been abyss and yet struggles mightily to climb back on that grips the American psyche.
When one of our own reaches the mythic height of the cover of Sports Illustrated through a combination of perseverance and good fortune, it’s a joy to be able to share, vicariously, in the experience.
You don’t have to be a Gilroyan to root for Jeff Garcia. Sports fans in San Benito County delighted in the “JG” 49ers hats, laughed when gravelly voiced “Bob from Gilroy” called the San Francisco sports talk radio shows to stand up for his son and took pride in the fact that “the kid” still cares deeply about his community, which he has proven by donating tidy sums to refurbish the Gilroy High stadium and helping out Gavilan College athletics.
Jeff Garcia has never forgotten where he came from. That’s so refreshing.
The whole story – from the kid with the bird-skinny legs running all over Mustang Stadium to the Pro Bowl years in San Francisco as the heir to Joe Montana and Steve Young – is filled with true grit.
But the Garcia family story transcends sports. Multiple losses of young children broke everyone’s heart. But those losses also provided a life perspective that formed the foundation for Jeff’s drive. And the family, through it all, stuck together. Jeff also survived the often-fatal minefield that comes with a father-as-coach relationship. That dynamic is never easy, but Bobby, as Gavilan College’s ornery coach, gave his quarterback son an appreciation for and a knowledge of the game that allowed him to maximize his physical skills.
Jeff Garcia plays smart. He knows the ins, the outs, the Xs and the Os. He’s a born-and-bred gridiron racehorse.
At this 36-year-old juncture, after two years of penance in the football wastelands of Detroit and Cleveland, Jeff is running on all cylinders, playing at as high a level as he ever has.
Again, the perspective of tragedy and loss – played out in two lonely, forgotten years in stumbling NFL organizations – have provided him with renewed zeal.
“Luck is when opportunity meets preparation,” an old sports adage goes.
Jeff is prepared mentally. Whether his latest on-field heroics result in a glorious and unlikely Super Bowl victory, or simply a valiant playoff effort by a kid from Gilroy who refused to quit on himself or his dream, is largely immaterial.
Make no mistake, the storybook ending – the picture of Jeff Garcia hoisting the Super Bowl XLI trophy in a Philadelphia Eagles NFL champions ballcap – would be fittingly triumphant.
But the journey to the SI cover, through the jungle of life in the national spotlight, is triumph enough.
All glory is fleeting, yet the admiration for “JG” will rightfully linger as his friends from back home root for a favorite son and a family well loved.
