Sometimes we get so caught up with today, we forget how far we've come since yesterday. And, how bright tomorrow looks. Then things happen, and we take a step back. Suddenly, things don't seem so hopeless or pointless. When Philadelphia Phillies captain Jimmie Rollins presented President Obama an "Obama 44" Phillies jersey in a Rose Garden ceremony at the White House, I had one of those moments. Henry Aaron was wearing the same No. 44 when he broke Babe Ruth's alltime home run record on April 8, 1974. The moment was so brimming with symbolism: a black man broke a white man's record, in the deep south, and America cheered, less than a decade after the passage of the Civil Rights Act. It happened in the hometown of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., against the team that Jack Roosevelt Robinson broke baseball's color barrier with, the Dodgers. And there on Aaron's back, as visible as the burden of racism and senseless hatred he bore with such uncommon dignity was invisible, was No. 44. Barack Hussein Obama is the 44th President of the United States. There's a lot there to be proud of. A lot more than there is to be ashamed of, that's for sure.

The shocking death of former NFL most valuable player Steve McNair on the Fourth of July was another touchstone. Of the 22 Super Bowls I've been privileged to cover, Doug Williams' Super Bowl XXII in San Diego in 1988 and McNair's Super Bowl XXXIV in Atlanta in 2000 remain particularly memorable. In the third year of the Dr. King Day holiday, Williams led the Washington Redskins to their fourth Super Bowl. In the process, he became the first African-American starting quarterback in Super Bowl history. All week leading up to the game against Denver Broncos, Williams was relentlessly, and quite insultingly, asked about being a black quarterback. In the tradition of his fellow sports racial trailblazers like Robinson and Aaron and Syracuse Heisman Trophy winner Ernie Davis, Williams handled it all with astonishing grace and dignity. In Super Bowl XXII, the onetime Grambling star completed 18-of-29 passes for 340 yards and four touchdowns, the latter two being Super Bowl records at the time. He did all this despite still feeling the effects of an emergency root canal performed the day before, and suffering an excruciating hyper-extended knee in the first quarter. When it was over, he was simply known as Doug Williams, world champion. He opened the door for future African-American quarterbacks in the Super Bowl. McNair tried to storm through that door in 2000 as the quarterback of the Tennessee Titans. I first heard of McNair while hosting "College Football Saturday" on SportsRadio 710 KMPC in 1992. Co-host Mike Lamb and I devoted a segment each week to black college football with Dick Simpson, who edited the JC Gridwire at the time. Simpson rhapsodized about the exploits of Steve "Air" McNair at Alcorn State. We interviewed McNair during the 1993 season. His rugged decency came across, even on the telephone line. I wasn't surprised to hear he won the Walter Payton Award as Division I-AA's top player in 1994, or that he finished fourth in the 1994 Heisman Trophy balloting The Houston Oilers picked him third overall in the 1995 NFL Draft. McNair became the face of the franchise after the Oilers moved to Tennessee. He played the entire 1999 season with a sprained toe (turf toe) so severe, he was in a walking boot everywhere but the football field. His tolerance for pain was mind-boggling. It was a powerful metaphor for the injustice and bitter anguish experienced by so many members of McNair's race. Now, it so happens that there was a flap over the state flag that would fly over the Georgia Dome and Super Bowl XXXIV in Atlanta. It contained the stars and bars of the Confederacy that are so particularly repugnant to the descendants of slaves. Jesse Jackson led protests around the Georgia Dome. He tried to enlist the quarterback of the Tennessee Titans. It would have diminished Steve McNair's dignity to forsake his offensive line for a picket line. "I know I'm the second quarterback," he said. "I'm the second quarterback in the history of the Southwest Athletic Conference (SWAC) to play in the Super Bowl." It was a perfect audible. What we remember today is not the flag flap, but the epic climax of the game. McNair led one of the most heroic drives in Super Bowl history. He nearly saved L.A. Rams fans from the stigma of Rams kidnapper Georgia Frontiere fondling the Vince Lombardi Trophy. Somewhere along the way, the term "black quarterback" was thrown in the garbage, thankfully, along with those stars and bars on the Georgia state flag.) Steve McNair didn't just help dispose of a noxious political symbol. By the lesson of his life, he exposed the myth that a quarterback's lineage has anything to do with his ability. Those who merely want to piff and moan and complain about this magnificent republic have less and less of an audience in 2009. That was Steve McNair's greatest drive of all.