There goes my hero ... watch him as he goes

I was right.

After arriving at Mike Papoccia's office at Newman high school, Bobby strode into the room. He'd been busting his butt in the weight room. He took a breather to chat about his season-ending carry Saturday afternoon.

His voice isn't loud. But it speaks volumes. Just ask his teammates. His coaches.

Bobby and I talked football for a bit. The young man, who was failing classes at Reagan Middle School in Dixon before making the move to Newman, was incredibly eloquent. He spoke about his football family, and how a senior class took him under a protective wing. Over 4 years, that protection has never faltered.

That's why Bobby does anything and everything in his power to build up those who feel like they're about to crumble. Coach Papoccia and his assistant/athletic trainer, Andy Accardi, told me about Bobby's speech before the playoffs got under way.

One of Newman's most powerful traditions – which is kind of like saying one of Pink Floyd's best albums – is each player saying what they plan to dedicate to the team while adding a link to a chain.

Even having gotten to know him for only about 15 minutes, I would've given anything to have heard Bobby's speech. I was told there wasn't a dry eye in the room, and that Bobby borderline sobbed while telling his football family that they saved his life. It took the coaches longer to leave the room to deliberate than it took them to decide Bobby would be the Tender of the Chain on the sideline throughout the playoffs.

This is a young man who, just because he's physically challenged after nearly losing his life as an infant, was given hell by his peers at Reagan. The coaches told me I don't know the half of it, and I'm rather glad I don't. I can't handle the thought of kids ridiculing those who overcome physical and mental challenges every day. That's pretty much the definition of spineless.