I didn't know Eric Namesnik any better than I know Jim Kelly, Joe Montana or Matt Clement. But I do know what someone like Mr. Namesnik meant to the community where he grew up. He gave us hope that we, too, could reach higher or further than our bodies tell us we could.

I also know what being a father of two is about. That is something Eric and I shared, and let me tell you, it's no easy task. There are days it is harder than anything I've ever done, but the end result is worth working toward. As a result, I'm sure the former Olympian was a great father to his children.

And while I don't know for certain, I can be reasonably sure that Eric loved his children with a passion that was rivaled only by his love for competition. He probably loved his wife with that same passion and energy that moved him from Butler to Barcelona and a silver medal.

You see, guys like Eric are few and far between. They live with fire in their bellies and a desire to move not just one, but several, mountains during their lifetime.

They also realize that their lifetime may, unfortunately, be limited. It's their life to live the way they want, and they spend each second living with passion, energy and commitment that is unrivaled by the rest of us. It's what sets them apart from the world.

'Snik, as he was called by those who knew him best, passed away this week after losing control of his automobile while on his way to coach swimming practice to children.

While it is certainly a time for sadness and memories, it stirs up a fire inside of me that makes me do a gut check.

What have I done that could actually be considered "great" or "exceptional" in my lifetime?

Sure, I do the right things and am a committed family man. I love my kids like there is no tomorrow, but at the end of the day, what will I be remembered for?

Maybe it will be these columns; but then again, maybe not. They certainly cannot be considered anything earth-shattering or remarkable, that's for sure.

I don't smoke, take drugs or drink, and I'm always trying to eliminate the "adult" words that pepper my vocabulary from time to time. But really, I'm not supposed to do those things already, right? Therefore, it's only doing my job when I don't do those things.

No. A guy like Eric Namesnik is a one in a million, and the Butler community was lucky to have such an inspiration walk among us for as long as he did. He did things that people told him he couldn't do, not the things they said he shouldn't

do. There is a difference, you know.

Not surprisingly, Eric was an organ donor, so even when he's physically gone, he's given life to others, much like he did while living here in Butler. The gift to take, from Eric, however, is the gift of his persistence and courage to do the extraordinary, even when others tell you to quit. That's called a person's soul, by the way, and unfortunately, it cannot be donated; only replicated.

The choice is ours. Get busy living today, like Eric did.