I heard a great phrase about great athletes a while back that’s always stuck with me. Some athletes, the thinking goes, are almost cursed by greatness. They overflow with talent to such an extent that it’s almost impossible for them to live up to expectations.

I am certain this assessment is true. There are many athletes — Hall of Famers, even — who still get raked over the coals in sports media for not doing enough. A few come to mind: Shaquille O’Neal, Charles Woodson, Julius Peppers, Randy Moss. All great. All criticized for not being even greater than they were.

And maybe the critics have their points, but that’s kind of what the assessment there is going for. Greatness can be a curse. Just to use Shaq as an example, imagine being so great that you can average 30 points and 15 rebounds for consecutive postseason runs (championship runs, mind you), follow that up with a 28 and 12 postseason run, and still get criticized for dogging it in the regular season.

All that to say this: Paul Hornung’s life sounds exhausting. Individually, a lot of the stuff sounds interesting. In a vacuum, who doesn’t want to be a sports star? Who doesn’t want to be famous, at least to an extent? Who doesn’t want to be extremely handsome? Who doesn’t want to be rich?

But this chapter shows the pressure that comes with that, both external and internal. You can’t be just a guy when people meet you. You have to have the “I’m a famous athlete” switch turned on all the time, else you’re just the latest rude athlete to be a jerk to a fan. And, for Hornung at least, you have to live up to your own expectations. If people tell you that you’re a certain thing for long enough, maybe eventually you start to believe it, and maybe that changes how you treat yourself.

To that end, I wonder if Vince Lombardi was the greatest thing that could have happened to Hornung. Here’s a guy with limitless potential and seemingly only limited drive to meet it. How does he tap into his abilities to the fullest? Well, pair him with a guy whose expectations are essentially unreachable, who demands perfection and will push you to get as close as possible.

Paul Hornung had all the talent in the world, but he only reached it thanks to a father figure who saw him both as he was and as he could be.

Interesting notes

• Lombardi may have gotten a big raise in 1961, but $50,000 that year is only worth about $500,000 today. Still a relative bargain!

• Emlen Tunnell’s impact on the early Lombardi-era Packers is still underrated. He’s gotten some more attention recently, but I don’t know if you can ever properly evaluate the impact of a guy who had previous experience with Lombardi’s ways showing his new teammates the ropes.

• Some people quibble about Paul Hornung’s place in history, but Tony Canadeo thought he was the best ever, I think that has to count for something. I’m all for evaluating people with whatever context you have — looking back with the benefits of modern analytics isn’t without its place. But the perspectives of the people who were present for the games themselves have to count, too. 

• What does Paul Hornung’s life look like if he’s not at Notre Dame? It sounds like going to Kentucky was a real possibility. Can the Golden Boy become the Golden Boy without the presence of the Golden Dome?