Don’t look for another athlete to fill Barbaro’s big horseshoes any time soon

Yeah he didn’t wear a whole lot of bling. You might not have seen him at the club with P-Diddy and Gilbert Arenas. Hell, he didn’t even speak English. But Barbaro was what every young athelte should strive to be. He was soft spoken, hardworking, intelligent, and hung like a horse.

When the odds were stacked against Barbaro, he stepped up. He never blamed his teammates. He never flicked off a fan after a tough loss. He never tried to sneak marijuana onto a plane. Barbaro got to practice early and his farts smelled like roses. He never turned down an autograph and he never mouthed off to reporters.

Barbaro wasn’t surrounded by thugs from his hometown. He didn’t do drugs or drink anything besides water (or sometimes his own urine). But Barbaro will only be remembered for his performance on the track. Sure, some of us will remember his kindness, or the way his poop felt to the touch, but most of America won’t notice the passing of an athlete of the highest ilk. He was Bo Jackson, but a horse. He was Rocky Balboa, but a horse–and a real horse–not a movie horse.

I will honor his memory the way I promised him I would—-by eating Barbaro chilli during the Suer Bowl this Sunday. And rooting for those Colts!