A Champion of Decency

The only real legacy Dungy sought to leave, he said at his farewell news conference yesterday evening, was as "someone who helped our players at every stop. If I was going to hope, it would be something like that, and very little talk about what we did on the field."

Half the time as an audience we're confused about what we want from the NFL. Do we want it to be purely an entertainment, on the level of a circus, or do we want it to be a repository of societal values? With Dungy, we didn't have to choose -- he tried to give us both. "I think my legacy will be more of how we did it," he said. He strove "to show that you can treat people right, be professional, do it with class, and still win."

It's typical of Dungy to walk away because he feels he owes something to others. It's obviously not an easy decision for him -- he's only 53, and the Colts remain a perennial contender with a reigning league MVP in quarterback Peyton Manning.

"It's hard to go out on top," Dungy said. "It's fun to win. When you're winning you don't want to stop."

But it's time for payback. He told some of his players he feels "a higher calling," referring to his ministry work, and he has been a commuter husband and father. His family lives in Tampa because it's the best place for his five children -- he suffered a devastating loss of another son, James, to an apparent suicide in 2005 -- and he wants to spend more time with them and with wife Lauren.

"I've got a responsibility to be home a little bit more, to be available a little bit more, and to do some things to make our country better," he said.

Coaches retire all the time, with fatigue-sunken eyes and frayed temperaments, only to un-retire when they find that they miss the intensity of the job. But Dungy doesn't seem like the sort who will miss the seasonal highs.

In his retirement, as with everything else, there was a sense of emotional integrity.

"I have a real peace about it," he said.

He earned it.