Hero Worship
By Fred Northup

When I was in the 8th grade, Dave Bamford was a senior. I first noticed him carrying the football during the fall. He was a halfback, short and quick, with powerful legs. He would appear coming through the line dragging a lineman, free himself and dart in and out for large gains. He was the most impressive runner I had ever seen. I knew it was only a matter of time before he was in the NFL. He became my idol.

In basketball season he was one of the starting guards. Again, quick, agile, with a good jumpshot and tenacious defense, he maintained his lofty status in my imagination. Finally, in the spring, as the catcher on the baseball team he was the heart of the team and an outstanding hitter.

During the year I watched how Dave Bamford walked, how he talked with his friends, how he carried himself with others. I wanted to be like Dave. The important point, of course, is that Dave had no idea that he was my idol, that I watched him, wanted to emulate his actions, his mannerisms, his way of behaving.

Five years later, having been a letterman in three sports and Captain of one, I was standing outside the dining room waiting for lunch. I overheard two eighth grade boys talking. One said, "There he is, go on." The other said, "No, I...." When I heard the conversation I wondered what they were talking about. Then I realized. To one, or possibly both, I was Dave Bamford. I was their idol. It was a shocking moment, because it had never occurred to me that my behavior was something others cared about.

Every person is Dave Bamford to someone. How we conduct ourselves is watching and evaluated by others. It's a sobering thought. It's a responsibility. It's an opportunity.