A tease for my upcoming column on beauty. Below is an excerpt:
Alfred Williams was a standout defensive end at The University Of Colorado. He would eventually play professionally for The Denver Broncos. During one particular season Williams played at his usual high level, but well into the season he had failed to have a single quarterback sack – which was kind of in his job description.
It might have been 12 or 13 games into the season when Williams got his first sack for that season – also causing a fumble. Williams recovered the fumble himself, took it down field, as fast as a 300-pound man could, and from two yards out of the end zone, he leaped into the air, stretched his body out, and extended the ball over the goal line for a touchdown.
Here’s the punch-line: There was not a single player from the opposing team anywhere near him. He could have moon-walked into the end zone, but he leaped and dove – an expression of outright joy and beauty. There was this man, who would have played that game on a field of broken glass and carpet tacks, for a dollar, doing what he most loved to do, for the fans came to see him do it.
Please check back next week and read how I use the thread of beauty to sew together football player Alfred Williams, the heavy metal band Rush, and the death of a family dog. Should be fun.
Oh, and there is this from Cowboy Junkies, enjoy…