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 But not withdrawn.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: