Sweetness (77 page)

Brandon strolled toward the field, where he stood on the sideline, playing with a football. He heard a high-pitched voice—“Hey, buddy! Hey, buddy! Come here, buddy!” It was Walter Payton.

The running back was standing in a circle with Jim McMahon, Steve Fuller, and Matt Suhey. He asked Brandon his name and introduced him to the players. “Brandon, you don’t have to be nervous,” he said. “I’m just a guy.” Before Payton headed off for an adjacent field, he removed the wristbands from his arms and tossed them to Brandon. “Great meeting you!” he said. “Have a great time!”

“Best day of my life,” Brandon said. “I was floating on air.”

Eleven years later, twenty-three-year-old Brandon Peacy was working as a producer for WKRS, a five-thousand-watt radio station out of Waukegan. A couple of days before the October 22, 1995, Oilers–Bears game at Soldier Field, Peacy returned to Lake Forest to pick up press credentials at Halas Hall. While waiting for assistance, he spotted Walter Payton, now forty-two and eight years retired, walking down a hallway.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Payton said.

“Hi, Walter,” Peacy replied. “It’s good to see you.”

The two chatted for a couple of minutes, when Payton said, “I have this thing for faces—something tells me I met you before.”

“You did,” Peacy said. “But I was just a kid, so you probably don’t . . .”

“Try me,” he replied.

Peacy told Payton the story, how he was a twelve-year-old boy in 1984, and it was during a practice, and McMahon and Suhey and Fuller and . . .

“Were you with a real tall guy?” Payton asked. “A tall guy wearing a green hat?”

Bill, Brandon’s father, is six foot seven. He had, indeed, sported a green baseball cap.

“Uh . . . yeah,” Peacy said.

“So you must have been the little kid,” Payton said. “The one in the purple shirt.”

Peacy was dumbfounded. His jaw dropped. His eyes widened. All he could say was, “Holy shit.” Walter Payton broke up laughing, then jabbed Brandon in the arm. “I tell everyone I have a great memory,” Payton said, “but nobody believes me.

“I’m glad you know the truth about me.”

WHAT BECAME OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS

Connie Payton
, Walter’s wife of twenty-three years, still lives in Chicago, where she heads the Walter and Connie Payton Foundation and speaks glowingly of her late husband. In 2008, she married Michael Strotter, a native Chicagoan and the CEO of Advanced Medical Imaging Centers. She is, according to her children, comfortable and happy in her role as gatekeeper of her late husband’s legacy.

After graduating from the University of Miami in 2004,
Jarrett Payton
went on to play, briefly, with the Tennessee Titans, the Amsterdam Admirals (of NFL Europe), and the Canadian Football League’s Montreal Alouettes and Toronto Argonauts. He now hosts a weekly Internet radio show in his native hometown and is working toward becoming a hip-hop artist and comedian. Of the fourteen tattoos that adorn his body, five are depictions of his father. When, in 2009, he married Trisha George, the wedding took place on March 4—3/4, in honor of his dad. The reception was held at Soldier Field. Should he one day be blessed with a son, Jarrett already has a name picked out. “Tres Quatro,” he says. “I love that.”

When people speak with Jarrett, they often feel as if they are in the presence of his father. The smile is the same, the gregariousness toward others eerily familiar. Just as his hero loved reaching out toward strangers, so does Jarrett. Shortly after Walter died, Jarrett said he was faced with a choice—he could either run away from the comparisons, or embrace them. It was, he says, an easy decision. “I want to hear about my dad every chance I can get,” he said. “I know this sounds crazy, but I believe he’s watching down on me, guiding me. Whenever I look at the clock, it’s 1:34, 2:34, 3:34. The number’s everywhere which, to me, means he’s everywhere.”

Though softer and less engaging than her older brother,
Brittney Payton
is also a local media personality. A graduate of DePaul University, she now works for WGN as one of the hosts of a TV show,
Chicago’s Best
. Like both of her brothers, Brittney looks very much like her father, from the almondshaped brown eyes to the high cheekbones. “There are a lot of days I’m sad my dad isn’t here,” she says. “Just because of all the things he’s missing. When my brother got married it was such a happy day, but it also hurt, because there was a real void.”

Eddie Payton
has been the golf coach at Jackson State University since 1986. In his time with the program, he has emerged as one of the nation’s top collegiate coaches, leading the Tigers to 22 men’s and 14 women’s SWAC titles. “There’s not a day when I don’t think about Walter,” he says. “But I’m not sad, because I know he’s in a better place.”

Sadly, Eddie is largely estranged from Connie, Jarrett, and Brittney. Though they talk every few years, mistrust reigns. Eddie and Connie operate their own Walter Payton–themed charities, and the animosity is palpable. Says Brittney: “I think my uncle and that side of the family all felt as if they were owed something from my dad. Even during his career, I think they felt like they were owed something from him and they didn’t get it while he was alive and so they really expected they would get something from him in the end. I think they had a lot of issues with that. I don’t think he had the best relationship with them, and I think that filtered over to me and my brother because he never made it a point for us to reach out to them.”

Lita Gonzalez
, Walter’s longtime girlfriend, still lives on the East Coast, and she continues to work as a flight attendant. She has never married, and has worked hard to put the drama with Walter Payton out of her mind. “It’s painful,” she says. “Everything that happened, the way his life ended—I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’ve moved on.”

Bud Holmes
, Walter’s agent for the entirety of his career, still lives in Pedal, Mississippi. He is retired, but stays involved in local high school and college sports. Like Eddie, he is no longer on regular speaking terms with Connie. “I like Connie,” says Holmes. “But she’s gone out of her way to cut off the people who know the truth about Walter. She’s probably smart to do that. There’s an image to keep up.”

Ginny Quirk
, Walter’s coworker for fourteen years, lives in Illinois. She is married to Mark Alberts, Walter’s former business partner. The couple has two children. The Payton family has accused Quirk of forging Walter’s signature and then selling “autographed” Payton items for large amounts of money. “Completely untrue,” she says. “I don’t even want to dignify that with any sort of response. It’s character assassination.”

Walter’s mother,
Alyne Payton
, lives in a quaint suburban home in Jackson, Mississippi. Now eighty-five years old, she spends her days gardening and hosting random visitors. “I’m happy,” she says. “It’s been a wonderful life.”