Bo Jackson, who saw his dual-sport career cut short by injury, now finds joy in being a role model for children.

By JOEY JOHNSTON

Tribune Staff Writer

(c) Tampa Bay Times. Originally published Oct. 18, 2000.

TAMPA – Bo knows what you’re thinking.

His face still stops traffic. In airports, people freeze and point. They ask the question. They have to ask.

Hey, aren’t you ….

“No,” Bo Jackson says, “I just look like him.”

They press. Who are you, then?

“My name is Vince.”

Vincent Edward “Bo” Jackson, the guy who hit a 515-foot home run over a 70-foot center-field scoreboard during spring training. The guy who spurned the Bucs for baseball, only to join the NFL’s Los Angeles Raiders one season later as a “hobby.” The guy who once struck out, then snapped the bat in half, over his knee. The guy who flattened linebacker Brian Bosworth during a memorable collision on Monday Night Football.

He won the Heisman Trophy at Auburn. He was the NFL Draft’s first pick. He was Most Valuable Player in baseball’s All-Star Game. He was a dual-sport wonder, the best athlete anyone had ever seen. He was power and speed, a world-class sprinter at 6-foot-1, 230 pounds.

He was the most cleverly marketed superstar of his time – remember the “Bo Knows” Nike commercial, when he traded guitar riffs with Bo Diddley? – yet he remained mysterious. Because of a serious injury that required a hip replacement, his time was so fleeting, so brief. Mirroring the most spectacular touchdown of his career – when he galloped 91 yards against the Seahawks, then kept running into the stadium tunnel – Bo Jackson went fast and hard.

Then he disappeared.

Bo Jackson, who retired from professional sports in 1995, re-emerged Tuesday morning at the USF Sun Dome. He stood reverently, hand over heart, as the Star-Spangled Banner was sung. As 3,000 elementary-school children squealed with delight, Jackson worked the crowd, shaking hands, patting heads, hugging necks, slapping high-fives.

Jackson, 37, appeared as part of HealthSouth’s “Go For It!” Roadshow, a free field-trip program that’s coordinated by the sports medicine and rehabilitation company. It got the children’s attention with a laser-light show, obstacle courses, games and contests, high-energy music and giant football helmets and basketball goals. The Roadshow has visited more than 80 cities. It has been seen by more than 2 million children.

From the stage below, Jackson, former NFL place-kicker Matt Bahr and former Olympic diver Jennifer Chandler delivered the message. Stay in school. Stay away from drugs. Eat nutritious foods. Obey your parents and teachers.

“When I was your age, I was headed down an awful path,” Jackson said, as the arena hushed. “I was the most unlikely to succeed. I was always in trouble. If I can overcome my challenges, so can you. You can accomplish anything if you stay positive and work hard.”

Jackson’s audience was largely too young to remember his athletic exploits. They didn’t see Bo. They saw a cuddly, bouncy, enthusiastic man who made them laugh, then made them think.

“Who wouldn’t want to be involved in something like this?” Jackson said afterward while relaxing backstage. “It’s my way of giving back. You have people who don’t consider themselves role models, yet there they are in the public eye, playing professional sports.

“I want to be a role model. It’s what I choose to do. I love this. I love seeing the smiles on their faces.”

Jackson said he doesn’t wonder “what-if?” Don’t ask him about the Subway Series. Don’t ask him about current NFL running backs. He doesn’t know. He avoids football and baseball. He doesn’t care. He watches NASCAR. He rides his Harleys. He hunts, fishes, plays golf. He’s a full-time dad.

“I’m secure within myself,” said Jackson, who lives in suburban Chicago with his wife, Linda, and their three children. “Everything that happened to me worked toward my betterment as a person. Including the injury.”

Including 1986, when he added another infamous chapter to Bucs history by temporarily nixing the NFL and signing with baseball’s Royals. The Bucs received nothing for their No. 1 draft choice.

“I chose another route and that’s just the way it is,” Jackson said. “I wasn’t comfortable coming here to play. Not only that, but at the time there where even players here who said, “Man, you don’t want to come here.’ So when you’ve got people already on the team telling you that …”

Jackson stopped short. Tuesday wasn’t a time for an expansive look back. He brightened more lives. He made his afternoon tee time. Soon, he’ll be headed back to the family.

Others may still gawk at his tape-measure homers and rumbles through open holes. Not Bo. He’s done with that. He’s moving on to new things, better things.

Bo knows retirement. What’s more, Bo knows happiness.