Beyond the Box Score

(St. Louis, MO) – When I hit twitter about the passing of Bryan Burwell, I said “I have no words”. I lied. I have many.

Obviously the obituary, like a good box score will give us the statistics on Bryan’s life. But Bryan was never a box score kind of guy. He was always more about the ‘story’ of the game or of the person than he was about the numbers behind their name.

I’ve read the reactions of many others to his passing and I agree with most of what I’ve read. Bryan laughed easily, joked incessantly and was rare in his ability to mix with all the people in the sports scene. He was neither above nor below anyone, and if you were new on the beat or you were a hall of famer, he wasn’t intimidated by your stature nor too full of himself to treat you appropriately.

Bryan Burwell. Dead at 59. So sad. So young. So wrong. My computer is telling me those last four remarks aren’t sentences. Bryan wasn’t imprisoned by standards that didn’t matter. He could drive hard to break a story and to have that one unique twist to a report, but he wasn’t above giving away some inside information so your story could be better too. He was a generous man in a sometimes territorial world.

To say that I knew Bryan well would be an overstatement. Thankfully, I knew him some. He was kind to me and fun to sit next to on press row. I saw him at many events during the sports calendar, but my most extended conversations were at ‘Arch Madness’ and other college basketball events. We would bump into each other at NCAA regionals or in downtown St. Louis and talk hoops.

Bryan could find the truly human twist on a game, a player a coach or a trend in a sport. He was truly unique.

Bryan Burwell. Dead at 59. So sad. So young. So wrong. Jesus said, ‘the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy, but I came that you might have life and have it more abundantly.’ (John 10:10) I wouldn’t say Bryan was the most religious guy I ever met, but I would say he was living a full and abundant life. We would agree with his wife Dawn and daughter Victoria, that we feel like we have had something precious has been stolen.

Clearly their pain is exponentially worse than ours. But if you knew Bryan, you feel that loss today.

At 58 my own mortality comes more into focus this week. Our uniqueness fades, our gifts pale and “You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away” (Saint James).

Funerals and rememberings matter. It gives us pause and cause to think about what matters and about eternity. My Bible says much about Heaven and who gets to go there. So we should all do a little personal inventory and ask ourselves those hard questions that we only ask in times like these.

Questions like, “How do I treat the people around me?” “What is Heaven like and how do I get there?” “What good am I leaving behind?” “What message am I sending to others?”

One of my favorite phrases is “since you’ve been there, make it a better place.”

Bryan Burwell did just that and I’m grateful that he taught me something about respecting people, enjoying life and looking beyond the box score.

Do Good