Sharks and a Priest

Mr. Vaughn, what we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, an eating machine. It's really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks, and that's all. -- Hooper from Jaws

I love sharks. For a good third of my life I wanted to be a marine biologist and study them. They are fearsomely perfect. They move so effortlessly, their streamlined bodies almost seem to separate the water, their tails need move little to propel them. And then an awe-inspiring display of violence. The force with which a shark attacks is nearly as terrifying as the mouth that opens to show row upon row of teeth and an abyss.

This is how I feel about the New England Patriots. They devour opposing football teams. They are incredible to behold. A lot of people are down on them. The Colts-Pats match up was being touted as a battle between good and evil. Well, I've got to say, when evil looks so damn good, who cares? I want 'em to go 16-0 and win the Super Bowl. All this much to the chagrin of Tracy, my girlfriend. The game this past weekend was a strain on our relationship. I just wanted to see a good game. Bonus, the Pats won. She wanted the Colts to win, and more specifically, the Pats to lose.

The Pats have been called soulless. There is a certain detachment about them. They don't seem to enjoy winning, but perhaps this is part of their secret to success. Living in Chicago, there's a lot of talk about our team needing to be fired up. Many bemoan the loss of Mike Brown for the season, the emotional leader of the team. What if we didn't worry about that? What if we just went out and decided we needed to win? Because being fired up isn't always going to be there. It's not something you can rely on. It's something we actors talk about a lot. Sometimes, you're going to go out on stage and you're not going to feel it. Well, you need to anyway.

I get this sense from the Patriots. Like a shark that decides it needs food, the Patriots were down in the fourth to the Colts and attacked. There was a need for touchdowns and they got them. No fire. No whooping. A simple need and 11 men went out onto the field and went to work. It's the same thing I saw from Vince Young in the Rose Bowl when he scored the touchdown to put the Texans in striking distance of USC. The crowd was ecstatic. He didn't celebrate. There was still work to be done.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like a good story like the rest of you. Have you been keeping an eye on Priest Holmes? This is pretty incredible.

In 2005, Priest Holmes, running back for the Kansas City Chiefs, was involved in a helmet-to-helmet collision that injured his spine. He was never paralyzed, but the injury was severe enough that he did not play last season and it was a question whether he would ever play again.

Then, shortly before training camp begins this year, 2007, he lets the Chiefs know he wants to play. Why? He had a dream.

I believe in visions. But it's not something that happens very often, so I was skeptical. I haven't had a vision. But I came across this article on ESPN.com. There's something about the way the journalist Elizabeth Merrill captures Priest that made me think. His humility, his devotion to his kids, his disregard for the money, his perseverance. Something. And in my head I thought, "Maybe."

There's a pretty simple way to test a vision: sit back and watch. So I have been. Read the titles of these articles. They tell a story. If Priest was going to play, there were a lot of obstacles. But one by one, circumstances kept changing and the obstacles kept evaporating. Until we arrive at this Sunday. Larry Johnson probably won't play. So it's up to a rookie and Priest. I'll be keeping an eye on this game.