Letting Go, Or Not

Serena Williams, Like Many Before Her, Faces The Warrior’s Woe In the Battle Against Time

Commentary By James Estepp, Jr

I did not see Willie Mays finish his career as a New York Met in 1973, but I have seen enough footage and read enough about him to know that the Giants Willie Mays is the greatest combination of offense and defense the game of baseball has ever seen.

I did not see Johnny Unitas as the quarterback of the San Diego Chargers in 1973. What I have seen is his resume with the Baltimore Colts, with four championships, ten Pro Bowls and three MVP awards to know he was near-unmatched at his peak.  

I did see 41-year old Brett Favre finish his final season as a Minnesota Viking, stumbling to the end with almost twice as many interceptions as touchdown passes. I saw so many of his more than 500 touchdown passes, but it was tough to recall any of them as that final season unfolded.

I did, along with two billion others, see 39-year old Muhammad Ali step into the ring with Larry Holmes in the fall of 1980, and I sincerely wish he hadn’t. The stunning footwork and stinging jab were replaced with mere shadows of “The Greatest” as he was pushed out of the sport he loved.

This week I watched Serena Williams, three weeks away from her 39th birthday, and perhaps the best tennis player, male or female, that the world has even seen, and it was difficult to see the great champion who, for more than two decades, has made the sport of tennis her own. Lesser foes suddenly seem worthy of her court versus this current version of the queen. 

The indominable will and heart of a champion were still there, and her serve, the greatest that has ever graced the court was there too, but the remainder of her prodigious gifts seemed lost in a time machine, unlikely to ever return.

How does a great athlete thread the needle of knowing when to walk away at or near the top of their gifts, when their drive and desire has taken them to the top of their respective fields?

Thirty-seven year old Roger Staubach was the highest-rated quarterback in the NFL in 1979, and he had just thrown for a career high in yards, and he walked away from the league.

Jim Brown, at just 29-years old, coming off a season in which he led the NFL in rushing and touchdowns, retired, creating a void some would argue the Browns still haven’t filled.

In this age, when sport has never meant more, with athletes bringing their voices to the biggest challenges we face as a planet, does it matter if our heroes are somehow less than their peaks, or does what we remember of an all-time great diminish when we see them as fading while our focus is more locked in than ever with limited available entertainment choices?  

I’m biased. I paid good money to watch 38-year old Michael Jordan in a Wizards uniform, and, if he chose to, I would pay to watch 57-year old Michael Jordan lace them up again, because, even if every moment was not vintage Michael, there would be enough of them to take me back to the guy a couple feet above the rim when it mattered.

Besides, Serena still has one hell of a serve…