I could write 10,000 words on what made my three-minute TV story happen on NBC’s “Football Night in America” Sunday. Instead, I’ll go with the background on how it all happened, along with a couple videos that help tell the story of Aaron Rodgers’ appreciation of Packer history, and his deep affection for Hall of Fame quarterback Bart Starr.

NBC wanted me to get Rodgers for a TV story for the first Sunday night game of the year. In early August, in camp, I went to Rodgers with three ideas. Oh-for-three. He didn’t like them. “Go back to the drawing board,” he said with a smile. He wasn’t being a jerk; he just had no interest in the normal. So I went to work with the story-idea people at NBC and thought of two more, with some tentacles to the first game of the Packers’ 100th season. One of the ideas Rodgers liked: a story about his relationship with Starr, a man 50 years his senior. The Starr family had some interest too—with an asterisk; he’s been ill, and they had no idea if he could be involved in the story. But Rodgers, 34, deeply admires Starr, 84, and the feeling was mutual. No commitment yet, but interest from Rodgers moved us along.

We needed to convince Starr and his family and his family’s rep, Lee Ann Nelson. Starr had a stroke in 2014, and he suffers from aphasia, which happens sometimes to people who suffer strokes. It results in difficulty to comprehend words, and to speak cogent sentences, and to focus enough to do both. Nelson spoke to the family—Bart, wife Cherry (they’ve been married 64 years) and son Bart Starr Jr., who often speaks for the family. They wanted to do it, and perhaps it would be done with Bart Jr., speaking for his dad. I agreed to go to Birmingham, their home, to interview at least Bart Jr. Depending how Starr Sr., felt that day, perhaps we could get Bart to read a note of admiration to Rodgers.

I showed up to Starr’s plain office adjacent to some woods on the south side of Birmingham with producer Kristen Gerringer and our Alabama-based crew. Here came Bart Starr, in sweatpants, a dark Packers polo and sneakers, with Lee Ann firmly but gently holding both hands as he walked very slowly into the office. Bart was smiling, and he wanted to meet everyone in the crew and welcome them. Lee Ann was his guiding light. Starr barely spoke, and when he did, it was almost in a whisper. When I met him, I looked into his eyes and said what a pleasure this was, and he whispered, “Glad … for Aaron.”

He sat on a couch, and Bart Jr., came in and sat next to him, and I spoke to them—the son, mostly—on camera for about eight or 10 minutes, learning why the two quarterbacks a half-century apart in age are close. Soon after being drafted by Green Bay, Rodgers played in a charity golf tournament in Wisconsin run by Bart Sr., who appreciated Rodgers making the effort. In 2008, with the mayhem surrounding Brett Favre leaving/returning and Rodgers getting his shot at the job, Starr wrote a couple of letters of encouragement to Rodgers.

“What do you think of Aaron Rodgers?” I asked Starr the elder.

“Tremendous,” he said, in a whisper.

“Tremendous?” I said.

Softer now. “Tremendous. Yeah.”

Now Lee Ann and Bart Sr., were going to practice his message of admiration for Rodgers, the one he wanted to deliver on the eve of this historic season. For 15, 20 minutes they went over the lines on the couch, and then I helped move him to his desk, taking his right arm while Lee Ann took his left. Arduous. Sometimes he responded. Sometimes he read the note, and sometimes he just sat, staring, resting. When he did say a sentence, it was faint, less than a whisper.

This was painful to see.

After a few more minutes, Lee Ann said we should all just take a timeout and let Starr rest. So we did.

More frustration with the whispered message. Then Lee Ann suggested we take a walk with Starr around the office. I took his right arm again, she his left, and we walked the short lap around his office—maybe 40 feet in all. I thought about making small talk. “Bart, you know what I’ve always admired about you?” I said. “Your autograph.” He stopped. He looked up at me. I said: “Your autograph is perfect. Perfect penmanship. Today, you can’t read anyone’s autograph. They’re a mess. So let me ask you: Why’d you do your autograph so perfect?”

He looked hard into my eyes.

“Why … would you want to do it … any other way?” he said.

Clearest, loudest words he’d spoken all day.

“That’s … the only way I know,” he said.

Lee Ann beamed. “Did you know that his autograph took between 33 and 44 seconds to do—every one? He just wanted to get it right, every time.”

We walked around the office the same way, each of us with a Starr arm. Slowly. Importantly. He sat back down, and worked a little more on the 23 words he wanted to say.

Twenty-three words. An hour, and now more, to get it right. Aphasia was his enemy, his reality. He wouldn’t give in.

“You are a strong leader,” Starr said into the camera, his eyes boring into the note he was reading.

Practice. More practice. Five minutes more.

“Cherry and I are admiring you …”

Practice. More practice.

The clock ticked away. No one was in any hurry. We all just felt for this man, trying to do something kind for a friend. What was he thinking? I have no idea. Maybe this was something I imagined; it probably was. But I saw a competitor here. This wasn’t the Dallas defense in the Ice Bowl he had to beat now. He had to beat a sentence. And man, was it hard. Damn hard. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt a thing if we just packed up the cameras and thanked him and walked away. I don’t know. I thought he wanted to win this sentence. But we felt awful about it. The silent crew and the silent reporter (me), thought the same thing: We are abusing this giant of a man. Please, please, let it end. We can just walk away now and tell our bosses back at NBC, “We tried. We tried for over an hour. Bart was gallant, but it just wasn’t the right day.”

“One more line, Bart,” Lee Ann Nelson said. “You can do this. I know you can do this.”

Pause. Smile from Starr. He stared at the note.

“Because you are one of the finest men we have ever … MET.”

Smile.

That was a moment I’ll never forget. I hope my gasp was not audible.

Starr rested now, and I went to him and thanked him. “Good,” he whispered with a huge smile, “… for Aaron. Good for Aaron.”

Five days later. Labor Day afternoon. Green Bay. The Packers’ tunnel onto Lambeau. I explained the hour-plus deal in Starr’s office, and Starr’s determination to get the damn thing done. I showed the video of those 14 seconds to Rodgers.

Rodgers smiled widely. He nodded. No words. He didn’t have any right then. I didn’t either.

https://profootballtalk.nbcsports.com/2018/09/10/aaron-rodgers-packers-bears-fmia-nfl-week-1-peter-king/ 

Peter king wrote: