When I was a kid, there was one day I decided to be rebellious and skip school. I took a public bus into downtown D.C. and wandered through the places I usually went whenever I was there.
One of those stops was a gift shop called The Redskins Locker Room. At the time, it was the only place outside the stadium where you could buy official team merchandise—long before gear was everywhere the way it is today. It was a weekday morning, so the store was quiet, nothing like the crowded weekends I was used to.
A couple of weeks earlier, I had watched the NFL Draft coverage where Washington selected a wide receiver out of Syracuse with the 18th overall pick: Art Monk.
When I walked into the store, it had just opened and was nearly empty. Toward the back, I noticed the staff setting up a long table and a chair. I didn’t think much of it and continued browsing. Not long after, Art Monk walked in to sign free autographs. A small line formed, I got in it, and I’ve kept that autograph ever since—still in great condition.
I always respected Art Monk not just for his play, but for his conduct on and off the field. His play spoke volumes. He never got overly vocal or talked trash to opposing players. No trash talk. Just actions. Even the famous “Fun Bunch” celebrations after touchdowns were restrained and joyful rather than flashy.
There was an unspoken dignity in his demeanor and style of play—something almost regal. Ironically, I think that quiet professionalism may be one of the reasons he wasn’t inducted into the Hall of Fame sooner. He never demanded attention or called it to himself.
So here is the autographed photo I received during his rookie season—something I truly cherish. It represents not only his elite athleticism, but the quiet respect and admiration he earned from everyone who watched him play.
I’ve always thought of this as one of the best rewards for being rebellious—skipping school, breaking the rules just enough, and stumbling into a moment I’d carry with me for life.
In a game full of noise, he chose substance.