Bo Jackson is actually a giant jerk

A conversation with Jeff Pearlman.

As I have noted, my inspiration for “The Replay” is Bo Jackson.

Or, more, specifically, a conversation with my two sports-obsessed boys — aged 15 and 11 — who had NEVER heard of him.

This newsletter is a response to our short-term sports memory — and an attempt to remind people that everything that is happening in sports has happened before.

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In planning for the launch of “The Replay,” I went deep down the Bo wormhole. And one of the things I found was “The Last Folk Hero: The Life and Myth of Bo Jackson” by Jeff Pearlman.

The book, which came out in 2022, is the definitive accounting of Bo — warts and all. (Turns out that Bo was — and is — kind of a jerk. Read on!)

Intrigued, I reached out to Jeff to see if he would answer some of my Bo questions for this newsletter. He agreed. Our conversation, conducted via email and lightly edited for flow, is below.

Also, make sure to check out Jeff’s Substack “Journalism Ying Yang” and his podcast “Two Writers Slinging Yang.” (Jeff is writing a book right now about Tupac Shakur.)

Ok, to the conversation!

Chris: Ok, let’s start with the question on everyone’s mind: Is Bo Jackson the greatest male athlete of all time? Why or why not?

Jeff: He has to be. So, yes, there are more decorated athletes. But better? No. Zero chance. Bo weighed 220 pounds. He was clocked doing a 4.13 40 at Auburn. Then a 4.17 on grass with the Raiders. He was an All-Star in baseball, a Pro Bowler in football, could have been an Olympian in track.

He rarely (aka: never) lifted weights, hated practicing — really, he just showed up and ... did. And if all that doesn’t sway you, how about this: Name one other person who, literally, ran up a wall. Not just a step or two. Up the wall. Then across the wall. Then down the wall. That's superhero stuff. He was human, but barely.

Chris: The subtitle of your book is “The Life and Myth of Bo Jackson.” Can you talk about the “myth” part of that?  How was it created and what helped grow it?

Jeff: So Joe Posnanski, the excellent sports writer, referred to Bo as a “folk hero”—and I'm 100 percent with it.

These days, when a young athlete comes along, we see everything. Think about Caitlin Clark as an example. She's been on the radar since junior high. We've seen her shots for years and years—and she's only 22.

When Michael Vick entered the NFL, it was amazing ... but we were witness to his athleticism for years.

Bo ... he arrived in the final era when not everything was recorded. Even the throw against Seattle to nail Harold Reynolds at the plate. The replay never actually shows him releasing the throw. We know he did it, but unless you were one of the 16,000 (or so) in attendance at the Kingdome, you didn't see it.

So ... in a way, it’s all myth. We think he ran the 4.13. We think he unleashed that throw. We think he jumped over a car. But can we see it? No. It's mythology at its best.

Chris: What was (and is) Bo like personally?  Is he aware of his status in the culture? Does he embrace it? Or does he run from it?

Jeff: Ornery, kinda rude, not very friendly.

Crazy story: The book comes out. It's very favorable toward Bo and his legacy. Bo finds out I’m doing signings at four independent book shops in Alabama. He calls all of them, asking that I not be allowed to talk.

He's just not a guy you wanna interrupt at dinner, or ask for a selfie at a sporting event.

A story from my book that still leaves me speechless: He's doing an autograph show in SoCal. This is years ago. Another guy at the show is Greg Townsend, the great former Raider lineman. These guys were teammates. Greg knew Bo was gonna be there, so he brought some stuff for him to sign.

This isn’t complicated: Unwritten sports law says you always sign for teammates, former teammates, etc. Well, Bo says to Greg, “I have to charge you. If I give it to you for free, I have to give it free to everyone.” Townsend is dumbfounded. “Bo,” he says, “you were an asshole then and you're an asshole now.” Then he pays for the autographs.

If the guy could hunt and stay inside forever, I think he would.

Chris: If Bo came along in 2024 — with advancements in medicine, training etc. — would he have had a much longer career? Why or why not?

Jeff: Oh, without question. His football career still ends, but with the technology in hip replacements, he comes back and loses only a sliver of his speed.

Back then, Bo's artificial hip was made of plastic, with steel nuts. So, literally, with too much hard usage the plastic would rub off against the metal, and you'd have plastic shards spread in his body. Nowadays, everything is plexiglass and different materials that last. He could have played another decade.

Chris: Finish this sentence: “In 50 years, people will say Bo Jackson was ______________.” Now, explain.

Jeff: “Bo Jackson was ... I dunno, Grandma. Who was he?”

I know this is far too literal an answer, but the sad reality is time has largely forgotten Bo Jackson, and another half century won’t help his legacy.

It’d be one thing if he has a golden demeanor; a warm smile. If he hugged babies and shared stories. But he’s reclusive.

Also, the modern analysis of sports has increasingly become numbers-based. And Bo's numbers, in and of themselves, don’t leap from the page. So, were he blessed with Deion Sanders’ persona and need for attention, he'd have a better shot of being remembered. But, in 2074, I'm thinking Bo Jackson is no different than, say, Claudell Washington or Mike Augustyniak. It’s a bummer.