But Ricky loved football. The game itself.

He loved having teammates, the competition, the singular purpose. He could never come to grips with the things around the game: the adulation, fame, the jocksniffers, terrible agents, self-interested coaches, his own immaturity and incapacity in dealing with social situations.

I wish Ricky the best. He’s a bright, unique guy with a lot to offer off of the field, too.

I will always remember two things about Ricky:

- the record-breaking run against the Aggies. We were at the game (I and my pregnant wife), and the celebration almost put her into labor.

- on the old AAS chat room, Ricky came and joined us for a chat about 15 or so years ago. No airs, no celebrity big-head, just a bunch of guys chatting about football (and wasting time at work when the internet wasn’t being monitored).

Good times, all the way around.

It must have been really cool to chat to someone that insightful and interesting. I’m envious.

It’s great that Jones went beyond the lazy characterization of Ricky as a flakey weirdo. Ricky, like everyone else, is interesting because he’s had so many moments of greatness and so many mistakes. The fact that Ricky’s life has been on such a large stage just heightens the interest.

On a completely unrelated note, I’d like to click a link in a BC story and have the link automatically open in a new tab. I liked that about the Fantake site. Any chance you guys have the ability to alter that setting on the new domain?

“I don’t think you’re supposed to leave a legacy at age 34. At my funeral, I think the significance of football would just be something I experienced a lot of success doing. I like to think of it as a shade of a color that was part of my life.”

From Cedric Golden’s column