I caught touchdowns, first downs, threw blocks that sprung touchdowns and ran off safeties so my tight end and slot receiver could get open. I played special teams, caught the long ball and even got in on a tackle after an interception was thrown. 

I won the 200 meters at the Aggie Relays at Texas A&M in 20.38. I ran on a sprint medley team that won the Texas Relays and ran the fastest time in the world at that time. I anchored a 39.46 second 4X100 meter relay team and had been All American in the 4X100 meter relay, the 400 meters, the 200 meters and the 4X400 meters.  

But … I wanted to be a national champion in track and field. That was something that consumed my thoughts. I had been a big contributor on a team national championship but had been relegated to second place many times in individual and relay events. 

 When the final in the 4X100 Relay was started, we were near the middle of the track. When it came to my leg of the race, the third leg, I went around that turn knowing that we were going to win. When I handed off for the anchor leg in first place, I raised my hands in the air, and realized I had finally been a part of an event national champion. As I jogged down the home-stretch hundred, I looked toward the finish line and saw the team in the lane next to mine raise its hands and start to celebrate. I had another second place finish. 

When it came to the last event of the day and I still had not won an event, I was focused on my leg of the race. I was the anchor for the 4X400 meter relay. It was all on me and that is just the way I wanted it. First leg ran, then second leg ran and then finally the third leg made his run. As I see my teammate come down the homestretch, I was waving him in and getting my mind right to roll. I got the stick about 5-7 meters back and in a virtual tie for second place. The guy in first place was a guy that I had run against before in the open 400 meters and other relay events. I focused on his back and in the middle of the back straight, I pulled up next to him. I still don’t know why I didn’t run past him like I was coached to do. If I had run past him, I could have made him run my race. Instead, I stayed right there with him, on his hip, and ran his race. 

In the pattern of running his race, he started pulling away from me with 40 meters to go. I knew the fate of my race with 20 meters left. I’m welling up with tears while I’m finishing the race. He ended up beating me and my team by the same five meter lead he started the leg with. In the process, I earned myself and my teammates another Silver NCAA trophy for second place. When I crossed the line with tears streaming down my face for some reason I had to express my feelings and let out a loud 1.5 to 2 second yell. 

My then girlfriend, now wife, was the first one to me and she did what she could but I was crushed. While I was jogging and cooling down, one of the young guys on the relay team that would go on to be a star said, “I see how much it meant for you to win just once and I’m mad I couldn’t help you get it.” At the time I was trying to convince myself to stand proud on the second level of that awards stand, again, so I didn’t understand the personal indictment on me within that statement. 

I’ve told that story countless times around the country to young people. I always cut off the part about the cool down. I never really thought about how important it actually was until Monday when we heard about Colt McCoy’s emotional speech to the team after the loss to Oklahoma.

 I’m 36 years old now and I still continue to learn everyday. On Monday, McCoy taught me that my emotion, my tears and my scream came a little too late. 

Part of being a leader is allowing real emotion to guide you and allowing that emotion to build a vision for those around you that people buy into. It’s how Vince Young did it. It’s how Joe Montana did it. It’s how Michael Irvin did it. It’s not about pounding your chest, it’s not about running your mouth and it’s not about trophies. It’s about showing up, making a statement and driving people to do what they never dreamed possible. 

I had spent so much of my life trying to be “The Man” that I never really caught on that we are just men with the hopes and dreams of children. 

McCoy might very well break every passing record on the books at The University of Texas.

Be proud of that. 

Be proud of the emotion he displayed. 

Be proud that he did it now. 

He could have pulled a Sean Adams and let his scream and tears out after a 2009 Alamo Bowl loss to Purdue.

I feel like a hypocrite for even penning these thoughts to paper considering I speak all over the country to young people and dedicated my book to talking about being well rounded and being a complete person. But this is a truth that cannot go unspoken or unrecognized.

One of the toughest times of my life was when my father died in 1997. While he had enough virtues to fill Memorial Stadium, like everyone else, he had his flaws. When I spoke at his funeral, I quoted Henry David Thoreau from Walden where he wrote, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” I knew then and it increases now that my father was absolutely desperate to see success in my brother, sister and me. He was desperate to exorcise some demons and he was desperate to be reflective of the commitment he made to his faith and his family.

My father always talked about the fact that necessity might be the mother of invention but that desperation can be a great motivator to success. When I think back through the little bit of success I have been lucky enough to have in life, much of it came due to the fact that I was desperate.

Just something to think about.