Sayres was everything a hero should be

He was my first hero. I didn't understand football when Number 40 first appeared on our flickering TV screen. The grown-ups crowded my view. Their weight shifted forward on the old couch making the rear legs lift off the floor. I strained to see what they saw. There was a blurred image on the screen, a twisting, jumping, flying, vaulting blur that looked like something out of my Saturday morning shows. This had to be a superhero, no human could make other humans look so inferior. When Number 40 finished his gallop across the screen. he would casually drop the football in the end zone, the same way Grandpa deposited money in the little red bucket at Christmastime.

What struck me more than the magic on the field was the way he talked after the game. Quiet and humble, he didn't boast or brag, though he had ample accomplishments to do so. He lifted others up, like Batman thanking Commissioner Gordon for all his hard work. He was everything heroes should be.

On a rainy field, against the San Francisco 49ers, Kermit Alexander drove his shoulder pad into Number 40's leg and my heart stopped. Superheroes are not supposed to get hurt. I cried. Mom consoled me. "Write him a get-well card," she suggested. I wrote a letter and walked it to the mailbox. Weeks later, an envelope arrived with a thank-you note along with a photograph of Number 40, signed, "Thanks for the support, Gale Sayers."

He was my hero and will be forever.

Tim Romanelli

Arlington Heights