TULSA — Monday afternoon, I attended Steve Davis’ funeral at the First Baptist Church in Tulsa.
The funeral was beautiful and each speaker was fantastic; none, though, touched Bo Davis’ moving tribute to his father.
I’ve transcribed Bo’s entire tribute here:
On behalf of the family I’d like to say thank you. Your prayers, love and support have been instrumental in getting us through this extremely difficult time.
I’ve read too many news articles to count over the last week that talk about and celebrate the life of my father. And you don’t have to search for very long before you stumble across the word “legend.” And I agree with that label. He probably hates it, but I agree with it.
However, the context in which “legend” was used is not how I would apply the term when discussing my dad. Because, most often the term “legend” was used in conjunction with his heroics on the football field. But I never saw him play a down. Or with his 18-year broadcasting career, I can’t remember a single game he called. Or perhaps the term “legend” was applied to his uncanny ability to lead people to Christ, with his undeniable gifts as a Baptist preacher. And yet, I never saw him perform a single sermon.
I agree. Dad is a “legend,” but for different reasons.
He is a legend because he taught me how to ride a bike. He is a legend because he showed me how to break in a new baseball glove, to hit a curve ball and throw a spiral. And because, to me, he was the strongest man in the world, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never beat him in our living room wrestling matches. He is a legend because he taught me how to be humble in victory and gracious in defeat. And because he instilled in me the value of outworking your competition, especially when you appear to be over-matched. He is a legend because he urged me to fully consider the choices I make in life. “Choose wisely,” he would say. Finally, he is a legend to me because even though he won two national championships, spent 18 years on the sidelines and in the booth as a broadcaster and shared the stage with Billy Graham, all he ever wanted was to be a good dad. And that, to me, is legendary.
You’re my hero, Dad.
I love you.