There’s no great story behind it.
When I decided to call my dog Champ Bailey it was because I liked the name.
It was late 2003, more than 150 months ago, but looking back it doesn’t feel a day more than 145.
Bailey- the perennial pro-bowl cornerback, not the canine- was a star on the Washington Redskins, my adopted NFL team. Though I was still in the early days of regularly following the Goliath football league (the CFL had been my bag until then) I, like any NFL fan, knew all about Bailey.
By his then-fifth season, he had already established himself as the top cornerback in the NFL. A major star at a position that rarely produced them, Bailey was a smart player who single-handedly disrupted offences with his steady command of the field. And he played the right way. He was selfless, tireless, consistent, reliable, humble, and loyal. The kind of player a man could name his dog after, one might say.
For years, as Bailey the pup grew into a great big dog, Bailey the football player remained all of those things.
Playing to the age of 36 at a position where most guys peak at 26, he remained atop of his game to the very end. But after 15 seasons it was time to say goodbye to football. And when he finally announced his retirement on Tuesday, Bailey left behind a legacy shared by few in football history.
*****
“Champ Bailey, cool name.”
That’s how it started. The first time I paid notice to the cornerback and the first step toward Bailey becoming my favourite player.
I’m sure it was the same for a lot of his fans. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
There’s a long list of athletes who first gain our attention and, often enough, last in our memories because of their name alone. When you’re finished reading this go ahead and Google some. It’s fun.
But so few can actually live up to their name on the field. Cadillac Williams couldn’t do it. Neither could Champ’s kid brother, Boss Bailey. Until this week, Colt McCoy couldn’t.
But Joe Montana did. Randy Moss did. Johnny Unitas did. And Champ Bailey sure did.
Seven All-Pro seasons, 12 Pro-Bowl appearances in 15 years (the most by any DB in NFL history), twice named defensive back of the year, and a spot on the NFL’s All-Decade team (2000s) for good measure.
As news of his retirement comes and goes relatively quietly, it’s safe to say that we took Champ Bailey for granted. Maybe it’s because he never won a title. But neither did Steve Nash.
Bailey survived and thrived through generations of football, outlasting eras headlined by the likes of of Ty Law and Ronde Barber, and then more recently pro-bowlers like DeAngelo Hall and Asante Samuel.
And, during the course of his career, as the NFL embraced the deep passing attack that changed the cornerback’s role and workload, Champ barely wavered
This summer, when he joined the New Orleans Saints instead of hanging it up when his contract with Denver expired, it was noteworthy, but few in their right minds thought Bailey was ready to hang ’em up.
But soon enough there were murmurs out of New Orleans that Bailey was finally showing his age. The team cut him during pre-season.
He tried out for the Detroit Lions and Baltimore Ravens. At one point both of those teams would have mortgaged their future for the right to put Bailey in their uniform, but now neither team wanted him.
Just like that it was over.
*****
In early 2004, at the end of my first season rooting for Champ Bailey and the Redskins, and not long after I got my dog, Washington traded Bailey to the Denver Broncos for stud running back Clinton Portis.
Like Bailey, Portis was at the height of his powers in an era where the running back ruled, a virtual one-man offence fresh off back-to-back 1,500-yard rushing seasons, he drew hordes of defenders wherever he moved. Portis was the kind of potential franchise-altering offensive force that most teams could only dream of having. And for one very brief sliver of time, he may have been the most talented back in the game.
That’s what it took for the Broncos to get Champ Bailey.
You can measure a player but how other teams’ perceive his worth—the Redskins’ bounty in that trade was a testament to Bailey’s place in football, to the respect he commanded from around the NFL. Champ Bailey was really good.
When I learned of the trade the following morning whilst browsing the sports section, I glanced down at the dog lying by my feet, reached out my arm and gave him a hearty pat on his belly. Atta boy, Bailey.
Bailey the football player was named an All-Pro five more times after landing in Denver, and in his final year last season, his 15th, he made it to his first ever Super Bowl. It was the only thing in football he hadn’t accomplished, and now as a great career has drawn to a close, there is nothing in the game that the future Hall of Famer has to regret.
Yes, I named my dog Champ Bailey. And it was the biggest compliment I could possibly give him.
