SI Vault
Greg Myre
January 09, 1984
Before we knew about girls, my best friend in sixth grade, David Long, and I eagerly gathered every available artifact pertaining to our sports heroes. Bubblegum cards, autographs and publicity photos were all part of our indiscriminate collections. When decorating our rooms we reserved space for posters of our athletic idols. To our way of thinking, there was no finer human achievement than to be "blown up" into a 2' X 3' living-color action poster.
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January 09, 1984

He Looked All-pro On Paper When His Photo Was Made Into A Poster

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Reality played no part in this depiction, but that was the beauty of the poster. No matter how old, slow, heavy, gray, bald or ugly I get, I will always look impressive, thanks to C.W. Pack Sports. With each passing year I fully expect to take aside some wide-eyed youngster, point to my color posters and describe feats of grandeur.

Posters in hand, I returned home for Christmas and performed one final deed to make the experience complete. I sifted through 10 years of adolescent junk until I found my rolled-up collection of yellowing posters—Chamberlain, Sayers, Aaron and Wilson—the same ones David Long and I had argued about a decade earlier. I locked my door and hung up the posters of my old idols and saved just enough space to put one of my own in the middle.

There I stood, alongside the heroes of my youth, front and center in my personal Hall of Fame. All of a sudden I realized it didn't matter so much that my career was over.

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