By now thousands of Arkansans and many across America have seen the two-hour movie Greater. The poignant true story explores the unlikely rise of Harrison native Brandon Burlsworth from a pudgy, elementary-age boy nicknamed "Cheesecake" to likely the greatest walk-on story in NCAA history.
I sat with my customary bucket of popcorn to absorb the slightly Hollywood-ized account that followed the kind and principled Brandon through his slow ascension through high school football under the mentorship of former Harrison coach Tommy Tice to become a Razorback and finally to the top of college football as a first-team All American in 1998.
The film has its share of tender, sometimes tearful, moments as Brandon's loving mother Barbara and always supportive brother Marty try to come to grips with the head-on collision with a truck that claimed Brandon's life on April 28, 1999, along U.S. 412 near Alpena.
He was six days away from joining the Indianapolis Colts as a third-round draft pick and projected starter for the coming NFL season.
I didn't write today to rehash Brandon's compelling story. I prefer to share my observations of how rungs of meaning and significance permeate Brandon's story. The lessons from Brandon's life in the film, much like the layers on a sweet Vidalia, are truly prophetic.
For instance, through Brandon's life, my own faith in the incredible power of a loving and supportive family and friends was justified. All the demeaning comments Brandon endured from childhood made him all the more determined to overcome, with an unconquerable will and Christian conviction.
Another layer showed it's possible for each of us to achieve as Brandon did if we are willing to sacrifice for our goals. He practiced relentlessly (and alone) day and night, rain or dry, to master the necessary footwork and shed pounds.
Brandon knew (actually, intuited) from an early age that one day he would play for the Razorbacks, as unlikely, even laughable, the idea seemed to those closest to the chubby boy who was constantly eating.
The story also demonstrates how even a few others who care enough to reach out when times seem darkest can, and often do, make the difference in our success. When Brandon was shamed on the field by his kiddie league coach for poor play, Tice saw potential. He advised Brandon to be ready to come out for high school ball when the time arrived. Tice's encouragement not only registered with young Brandon, but gave him hope and renewed determination as a teenager. He eventually would make All-State.
I reflected on how the potential of any person beside you can be easily dismissed when they may prove stronger than you under the right circumstances. This was illustrated in the film during a blocking drill when the team expected a scholarship player to run over Brandon, then watched in awe as things unfolded in the opposite way.
The story highlighted rewards that can come by doing things in the right way (which has come to be called The Burls Way). Brandon carried this quality to an extreme by treating everyone with respect, choosing to always take sidewalks on the Fayetteville campus rather than the grass, and stopping to pick up trash. Whenever things went badly, Brandon honorably stepped to the front to freely admit his responsibility.
Could we all ever learn from that trait in today's world. His story tells us all to live with gratitude for each minute we have with our loved ones.
Still another layer showed how significant it was for Brandon, whose commitment and increasing abilities finally earned him a scholarship, to fully embrace his Christian life. Bringing teammates into the fold during his senior year as a captain, the resulting spiritual effects made them stronger individually and as a team.
In following the innermost whispers of his guiding angel from childhood, regardless of many human obstacles, Brandon followed that pathway to the top. And did it in the right way. In doing so, he achieved respect and admiration of a state and nation.
We know this story ends sadly, with Brandon's death at 22 years old. Much older, father-figure brother Marty and his mother and family understandably suffered deeply, asking how a just a divine God could allow such a tragedy, especially with such a good and devoted person.
It's the age-old unexplained question most every parent naturally asks after losing a young son or daughter. While I have no conclusive answer, I do have an observation that adds yet another layer.
I've come to believe, in the bigger picture, our lives aren't ultimately measured in years but rather in what we leave behind to benefit others.
From Brandon's heralded ascension, fueled by spirit more than physical form, he enabled those who loved him to establish a charitable foundation, several programs that benefit needy children in his name and a national honor to recognize other college walk-on players who share his truly remarkable enduring spirit. Can you imagine a more relevant legacy?
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Mike Masterson's column appears regularly in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at mmasterson@arkansasonline.com.
Editorial on 09/10/2016