AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT

I’m an Indiana native and a life-long Indianapolis Colts fan, so you can imagine my shock and sadness at the news this week of All-Pro quarterback Andrew Luck’s surprising retirement. Considering his place among the game’s elite signal-callers, his age (only 29), and his stature as the face of the franchise, many were calling it the most stunning such announcement in NFL history.

Like every decision made in the public eye these days, Luck’s endured plenty of criticism this week. Despite public support from his teammates and others around the NFL, many fans, talk show hosts, and “experts” have taken their shots. Maybe, some have said, football just wasn’t important enough to him. Maybe he just wasn’t as tough as we thought. Maybe he doesn’t understand all the people – those inside the franchise, those in the fanbase, even those who chose him for their fantasy team – who are counting on him. I have to admit, as I dealt with my disappointment, some of those thoughts I found bouncing around my head.

The other prevailing thoughts bouncing around my head about Luck this week have revolved around his legacy. That word, “legacy,” has been a part of this retirement conversation, too. What will Luck’s legacy as a quarterback be? And, maybe more importantly for fans – especially after this sudden departure – what might his legacy have been if he kept playing, like we expected him to? It seems obvious that Luck is walking away from a whole lot more than a healthy paycheck. He’s walking away from the chance to leave a legacy as one of the great quarterbacks in NFL history.

The more I thought this week about leaving a legacy, the more I also considered what leaving a legacy requires of anyone – you, me, and Andrew Luck included. A legacy, of course, isn’t built quickly, easily, or conveniently. It takes a lot of time, care, and attention to build a legacy. It takes an uncommon level of commitment; you have to give everything you’ve got. It also takes a unique level of sacrifice; there’s a long list of things you have to give up. We can all build a legacy of greatness somewhere in life, but all those requirements make it impossible to build a legacy of greatness everywhere, even despite our best intentions. No one can fully commit to every area, or fully sacrifice for every area either. There's just not enough of us to go around. Ultimately, at some point, each one of us has to decide…where is it exactly that I want my legacy to be built? I’m wondering if Andrew Luck gained some clarity on that question in recent weeks.

The All-Pro quarterback recently got married and even more recently got news he’s going to be a father. I don’t know about you, but early marriage and impending parenthood had me asking a lot of new questions about my life and my future, and I have to wonder if it's had Luck doing the same. He’s given so much to building his legacy as a football player – and given up so much to make it happen, too – that maybe it became clear to him, for the first time even, that he can’t leave a legacy everywhere. It’s possible, I think, that he was confronted by an unwelcome truth: that his very best in life as a football player and his very best in life as a husband and father couldn’t co-exist. Maybe Andrew Luck couldn’t escape the reality that he had to give up something really important to him in order to be great in an area that was most important to him.

When I considered Andrew Luck’s legacy from that perspective, I saw his decision to walk away from football in a different light. Maybe the question was never about how important football is to him, but how much more important marriage and fatherhood are. Maybe his decision to walk away doesn’t show a lack of courage or toughness. Giving up the money, the fame, and in many ways the identity that’s made him who he is – sacrificing all of that, and taking on the criticism he’s faced since his decision went public – all for the sake of his wife and future children? That actually requires an admirable amount of courage and toughness, I’d say, more than many people who feel equally convicted but are too scared to act. Maybe Luck doesn’t understand how many people are counting on him to be there as a quarterback. Or maybe he just saw clearly that in the coming years, he would be raising children counting on him to be there as a father, and he wanted to ensure that he could, both mentally and physically.

Like most people over the past week, I’m speculating on what I think motivated Andrew Luck’s unexpected retirement. I could be wrong, of course, and if you choose to speculate differently, that’s okay. I would ask you to consider today, though, some of the important questions his decision has brought to light. Where is it exactly that you want to build your legacy? And what if, at some point, it becomes clear to you – as it might have to Luck – that you can’t leave a legacy everywhere you want? What might you be required to give up or walk away from? And maybe most paramount, if that day comes, will you have the courage and conviction to give up something really important to you so you can be great in an area you’ve determined is most important to you? The answer to questions like those can’t be avoided. After all, your legacy depends on it.