Why Barry Sanders Quit
WHY BARRY SANDERS QUIT
I remember in the summer of 1999 when Detroit Lions running back Barry Sanders suddenly left the game and walked out on his teammates just one day before NFL training camp opened.
He abandoned the game and flat out quit on his team, shocking everyone–the coaching staff, his fellow players, and the fans. Then, he disappeared and went into hibernation, avoiding the media and offering no explanation whatsoever for his seemingly bizarre decision.
Sanders’ sudden and shocking retirement never seemed quite right to me. Something was amiss. Leaving the game is every player’s right, of course–especially in a league with no loyalties and allegiances other than to money. But a teammate doesn’t desert his club on the eve of a new season starting, forcing his team to scramble to fill the void, which is an impossible task rendering the season pretty much a lost cause. Moreover, a so-called “legend” doesn’t quit the game by sending a fax to the front office (really, that’s how he announced his retirement). Nothing made sense about this.
Now, we know the answer. Bye Bye Barry debuted on Prime (network) last week. I had no interest in watching the documentary. I never cared for Sanders. I’m not a Lions fan. Why bother? Then, my curiosity got the best of me. Yeah, I wondered. Sanders did retire all of the sudden, and yet he never explained the reason(s). The question was — why?
So, last night Bye Bye Barry became my background muzak while multi-tasking. I expected to FF through the tedious toil of the “Barry Sanders story,” which I didn’t really give a damn about. I consider sports documentaries, especially player profiles, to be repetitive and tiresome. They bore me.
But then, I got hooked. One scene, one incredible touchdown run at a time. I watched. I couldn’t fast forward. I had to see this part, then another. Is that actor Jeff Daniels being interviewed? Comedian Tim Allen? Both Detroiters. Yes and yes.
So, Sanders takes the stage, and yes, he’s really positioned on a stage under bright lights. He’s shy. But not withdrawn. He speaks well (I don’t recall seeing him interviewed prior to this). For the first time, we see and hear Barry Sanders when he’s not carrying a football. He’s real. He’s human.
Sanders calmly and clearly explains his reasons, which won’t be revealed here (no spoilers). His story is told in flashbacks and moments that I vaguely remember, which now make a lot more sense. It’s like seeing the complex patterns of a king-sized quilt stitched together for the first time, and it’s revealing, especially if you remember what happened in 1999, and certainly if you are a fan of Detroit sports.
It’s rare for me to completely reverse an opinion. But the documentary put things into perspective for me. It’s not so much a football story. It’s the story of many athletes, indeed even people in other professions, who recognize the path they’re on isn’t the road to happiness. And when the path is leading in a wrong direction, it’s time to make a detour or perhaps leave the road altogether. Trouble is, that’s not an easy thing to do. Not with so many outside obligations and expectations from family, friends, colleagues, media, and the public. There’s an important lesson here for us all about self-preservation amidst all the pressures.
Postscript: Purely a coincidence, but another Detroit-centered sports story featured in a recent documentary also changed my perceptions. 2021’s Malice at the Palace tells the story of what really happened in the infamous brawl in an NBA game that spilled into the stands between the Pistons and Pacers. Everything we thought we knew about that incident turned out to be wrong. I’m glad to have watched something that gave me a clearer and more accurate perception of those events.
I recommend both of these films, available on streaming (Prime and Netflix, respectfully). This is especially true for those of you who think you know the real story. Odds are, you don’t.
Here’s a preview:
Barry was a Pro Bowler every season he played and is known amongst football legends as possibly the best running back ever. Barry gave that team thousands of fans they would have otherwise never had. He gave Detroit his all for ten years and carried the hopeless load. Meanwhile, Detroit was making zero strides to build an actual team. After an entire decade of playing running back in the NFL, he was so tired of this losing culture that he no longer loved the game. He eventually did try to return in hopes of exploring a new team. After his ten years of loser service to the Lions, one would think he could get one single, last favor from the organization he gave life to. He even offered to return his 5.4 million dollar signing bonus. However, after such a long relationship with Detroit, they reduced him to mere money instead of a person. He wanted to finally go and win somewhere. He was asking for such an obvious request, only to be told so spitefully that he can only continue to rot in Detroit or retire. He brought so much to the game of football, inspired so many, stayed with them through ten long seasons, and the childish front office threw a tantrum when their favorite toy fell out of line. And if this was not enoug, then we have to listen to mediocre “writers” like yourself go on racially invoked tirades about one of the best, most respected athletes to play. After all these years, you still maintain your same dense sort of thinking. I am sure your writing would improve tremendously from a bit of open-mindedness.
Side note: black people are not scary, I promise. Go outside a bit more. No more shameful posts such as these. There is a lot of second hand embarassment from reading this “article.”