From The Roof of the World

Out of all the athletes and psuedo-jocks I've met over the years, no one made an impression quite like a man who never ran for a touchdown and never issued a "no comment" to reporters who failed to ask an actual question.
Several years ago I had a rare "1 on 1" interview with Sir Edmund Hillary, the first man to climb Mount Everest. He was an imposing man, even then as age was taking it's toll on what was once a tall and striking frame. He spoke quietly about the experience, remembering every second of the climb, and with every step told a modest tale.
The entire time he never acted impressed with himself nor spoke from ego, merely recalling a monumental feat as merely something he decided to do one day and refused to consider failure. Few knew that he never admitted to actually being the first man atop Everest until his sherpa guide, Tenzig Norgay, had passed on. He wanted Norgay to enjoy the accolades every day of his life.
When I heard of his death today, I considered myself so lucky to have met a true athlete, one graced with more humility and respect for his accomplishment than anyone might have imagined. Perhaps if our current athletes took a moment to consider what he did with no guaranteed contract, no TV deal waiting for him at the bottom, and no one offering to place his visage on a baseball cap they would discover some of that lost humility.
Of course if that should happen it would also be revealed that there actually was someone on the grassy knoll, Neil Armstrong was indeed walking on a sound stage in Arizona, and no baseball player ever juiced up.