Thread: Explosive Walter Payton allegations in new book

I can respect the decision of people who choose to willfully ignore what's being said about Payton. Each individual can decide how deep they want to dig into a player's personal life on their own. Some like to leave their knowledge of the player to what they see on the field, while others prefer to learn more. Personally, I like to learn more if the subject interests me enough. I have no problem with this book being written so long as it is presenting what information it gathered in an honest manner.

I've had an encounter with Payton and it wasn't positive. I never told about it on the board, partly because I think it would upset people who hold him on a pedestal and partly because it was simply one incident, it wasn't THAT bad, just a bit arrogant and that one incident shouldn't solely characterize a person. But for me, it was enough for me to realize that he's not always 'sweetness' and quite normal with flaws of his own.

Guys:

This site has been extremely good to me, and I wanted to come here and make a point. But then I wrote a blog post this morning that sorta said exactly what I wanted to say. So I'm posting what I wrote.

Before I do, these things:

1. This is a 460-page book. The excerpt was, what, seven pages? Judge the entire project, please.
2. The goal was not to kill Walter Payton's legacy. The goal, before I knew anything, was to write a definitive biography. Period. Honest, truthful, definitive.
3. Feel free to e-mail me at anngold22@gmail.com. I will respond.

Anyhow, here's what I wrote ...

So yesterday was, ahem, weird. Lots of positivity. Lots of anger and hostility and threats. I woke up knowing an excerpt of my Walter Payton biography would be on the cover of Sports Illustrated; knowing it would be a day unlike most others. I wrapped up my day by attending synagogue for the opening night of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year.
A weird day.
I’m not sure if people—the angry people—understand or care to understand. Two and a half years ago, when I embarked on this project, Chicagoans were—across the board—elated. “Walter Payton! What a great subject for a biography! Awesome!” And they were right. Walter Payton is a great subject for a biography. He’s an icon. He’s beloved. He’s misunderstood. He’s mysterious. Truthfully, I’ve never come across a better subject. Ever. But here’s the thing—”definitive” biography means definitive. To try and tackle a man’s life—his entire life—is daunting. Of course, you write about the touchdowns and the bootlegs; about 275 yards (with a screaming-high fever) and Super Bowl XX and Jim McMahon and Willie Gault. But, and this is the rough part, you are not a public relations executive. You are a journalist, trying to paint the full picture. The FULL picture. You have to, in the name of honesty; in the name of authenticity. Otherwise, why have biographies at all? Why look back at the lives of JFK and Ronald Reagan and MLK and Malcolm X and Jim Morrison and Marilyn Monroe and on and on and on? What’s to learn … to understand … to appreciate if all we do is turn the deceased into unflawed icons?
What’s the point of history, if history can only be approved talking points?
Early on in this project, I learned that, on the biggest day of a football player’s career (his induction into the Hall of Fame), Walter Payton had his wife in row one and his girlfriend in row two. He was nervous … beyond nervous. Freaking out. Scared. Apprehensive. Here he was, about to be enshrined, and all he was consumed by angst.
You are writing a definitive biography of Walter Payton. Do you ignore such a moment.
Later on in this project, I learned of Walter Payton’s severe depression; of his repeated threats of suicide. Like many retired football players, he was lost and hurt and aimless; the game had used him up, and no longer had much use for him.
You are writing a definitive biography of Walter Payton. Do you ignore this, too?
The question I ask is: When is it OK to write about a late person’s shortcomings? When is it OK to look back at his life and analyze the highs and lows; ups and downs? Ever? Never? Maybe—as many detractors clearly feel—we’re better off floating on a cloud of ignorance. Maybe the Never Die Easy depiction of Walter Payton’s life—terrific family man, happy go lucky, not especially deep—is the way to go. Is it real? From a certain perspective, sure. But perhaps that’s all sports fans want; to believe their heroes are only heroes, and nothing else matters.
I don’t agree.
But I understand.
PS: This will come off as a money play, so let me put that to rest: Go to the library. Skim at the book shop. Borrow from a friend. I don’t care how you read Sweetness, but if you’re someone screaming and yelling, “How dare you! How dare you!” I encourage you to take in 460 pages, not seven. Go through the Columbia, Mississippi years; the Jackson State years; the down days in Chicago, when the Bears were a joke and Walter Payton was the only beacon of hope. If, after you’ve done that, you still think the book was a hit job, call me.
We’ll do lunch.

Thanks for at least coming back and responding to some of our concerns Jeff, that right there shows you believe in your work, and care what others think.

The threats part I don't get I think that is foolish nonsense no matter what you are writing. The best way to show dissatisfaction is don't get the book which is what I'm doing. He might have skeletons in his closet and what not but to me this serves no purpose throwing a dead mans business out there now. Especially one who means as much as he does to the community even though he is dead. That's my opinion on it at least

I will however bank roll a book on ja