19

A MAN OVERCOMES EVIL

If it is an extraordinary blindness to live without investigating what we are, it is a terrible one to live an evil life, while believing in God.

BLAISE PASCAL

I played against a few mean dudes in my time in the NFL—defenders who couldn’t wait for a chance to rip someone’s head off. You could say those guys were the enemy when I lined up against them. But they were nothing compared to the ultimate enemy we all face in this life. You’ve probably heard of him. I’m talking about the deceiver . . . the destroyer . . . the prince of darkness . . . the devil. Evil personified.

Many people don’t like to talk about demons or the devil. Some would rather not acknowledge that evil even exists. But I’ve been aware of evil since that day I saw it prayed out of my cousin back at our little Victory Chapel church in Dallas. I know the devil is out there and actively working to take us down. He has all kinds of methods. One of his most effective is to set us against each other.

We’re all children of God, but conflict between us is as old as Cain and Abel. That’s why what God says about it is so important to me: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath. . . . Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:18–19, 21).

I’ve already told you about the night I was almost thirteen when I surprised my dad in the den and he threatened to use his gun on me. I can’t help wondering if the devil himself was at work in the rift that developed between us. For sure it was evil because nothing was the same with my dad and me after that night. I was mad and hurt. He was distant and quick to put me down. For years—through my time in high school, college, and the early years of the NFL—he would walk out of the room when I walked in. The great relationship we’d both enjoyed when I was young had vanished.

All through that period, I tried hard to please him and get his attention. I was constantly wondering, Will this be the game he notices? Will this be the season that gets him back? Will this be the year he apologizes for what happened? But winning the Heisman didn’t do it. Neither did landing in my first Pro Bowl. Neither did getting hurt in my second year with the Raiders.

After the 1991 season, I was chosen for my second Pro Bowl. I felt fully recovered from the knee injury that had sidelined me in 1989. I was almost twenty-six years old and feeling good again about what I could do on the field. The chill I still felt at home, however, made all of that seem hollow. I wanted more than my football skills back. After thirteen years of being pushed away, I wanted my dad back.

What I finally realized that offseason was that my father was too reserved, too stubborn, and too proud to tell me after all those years that he was sorry for what he’d done and what had happened with us. Like many men of his generation, that was just who he was. As much as he might have wanted to say those things, he was incapable of it. I decided that if I was going to have a relationship with him again, I had to go to him.

In the summer of 1992, I had my chance. He was in his garage, which he’d converted into his personal space. He had a TV, a fridge, and a cabinet where he kept food, guns, and whatever else he thought he needed. His favorite spot was in the corner, sitting on top of four or five plastic lawn chairs stacked together and fluffed with pillows. That’s where he was when I walked in, took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes.

“Look, man,” I said, “what happened thirteen years ago is over. Let’s let bygones be bygones. I need you to be my father. I need you in my life. I forgive you for what happened and if you need to forgive me for whatever I’ve done, then forgive me. We need to let this go and move on.” I put my hand out.

As I’ve said, my dad was a man of few words, but if he disagreed with you, he definitely let you know about it. When he took my hand and said in his husky voice, “All right, man, all right,” I knew he wanted a change too.

From that point on, our relationship was back to normal. Whenever I visited, I joined him in the garage to watch TV or just shoot the breeze. He acted as if we’d never had an issue. Whether it was the devil that had divided us or just plain human foolishness, we’d put an end to it. We were father and son again.

Not all conflict is evil, but conflict was definitely part of my dealings with another important man in my life—Al Davis. You could say that my relationship with the Raiders owner was complicated.

I heard soon after I joined the Raiders that Al had not wanted to draft me, that he’d reluctantly gone along with the decision of his staff. When I saw him and Mike Shanahan going at it verbally on the sidelines in my rookie year, I knew our owner wasn’t afraid to express his opinions. Al had been head coach and general manager of the Raiders in the sixties, when he coined his motto “Just win, baby,” and even served briefly as commissioner of the American Football League before buying into and taking control of the Raiders. He was passionate about football and his team, and expected people to produce. He had his way of doing things and didn’t care if others liked it or not.

He could be difficult, that’s for sure. After a contract dispute with Marcus Allen, he called Marcus a “cancer on the team.” For the next two seasons, Al directed that Marcus’s playing time be reduced until he finally released him. He and I had our own tough contract negotiations and conversations over the years. Early in my career, Al wanted me to be a specialist—a kick returner and third-down receiver—while I wanted to play regularly. In 1993, during the last year of my contract at the time, he got on quarterback Vince Evans after a game for throwing the ball to me too much. He made a similar statement to quarterback Jeff George in 1998.

Yet there was a side to Al that people didn’t often see. He could be supportive and loyal to his current players and especially to retired Raiders, putting in a good word for them when they needed a job recommendation or giving money to a guy with a medical problem. After I retired, he invested in my Locker 81 company, which raises funds for nonprofit organizations. Obviously, that’s something he didn’t have to do.

When I played, I talked to Al at least briefly every week and he always listened to what I had to say. We had our disagreements, but they were never personal. It was always related to football. On the rare occasions when I asked for more time with him, he made himself available. When my contract expired after the 1993 season, I thought Al wanted me gone. I signed a four-year offer sheet for $11 million from Denver and figured my years as a Raider were over. But to my surprise, Al matched the offer six days later. We sat down soon after for a six-hour meeting. I went through a list of questions to try to figure out where he was coming from regarding me, my role with the team, and the organization. To his credit, Al answered every question. For that brief time, I felt we understood each other.

I believe Al’s philosophy was that the right players on defense were critical to success and players on offense could be replaced. I certainly never felt like I was his guy. I have to admit, though, that the things Al said or orchestrated gave me an edge on the field and in the locker room. I wanted to prove him wrong when he criticized me. It was almost like how I tried to get approval from my dad. I wanted Al to say, “Tim, you’re truly a Raider now. You really do care about the organization.” Unfortunately, that never happened.

After my difficult separation from the Raiders in 2004, I hardly ever saw or talked to Al again. I wish that had been different. In 2008, at a Raiders game in Oakland, I did try to go up to his suite to say hello to him. I was told Al said, “Come back later.” I didn’t.

I had a brief conversation with Al at the Raiders facilities in 2009 when I was going in and he was leaving. That was the last time I saw him. He died in 2011 at age eighty-two. No matter what else you want to say about Al Davis, he was one of the great figures in the history of football. He gave his heart and soul to the Raiders and I’m grateful he gave me the opportunity to be part of that.

I had my conflicts with Al, but at least I usually knew where he was coming from. In 1996, I suddenly faced a conflict that I never saw coming. This one sure felt like the devil’s handiwork. At an industry trade show, the shoe company I’d founded received commitments from major retailers of close to $20 million in shoe orders. Our company, Pro Moves, was doing great and poised to take another big step forward. I was pleased to be making money, of course, but I was also excited because I thought we were doing something good. By offering high-quality shoes at a lower price than other retailers, we were providing people with a first-rate product that many couldn’t afford otherwise.

Apparently, our efforts made someone uncomfortable. Just a few days after the trade show and with no explanation, our manufacturer informed us that they would no longer produce our line of shoes. We were stunned. We scrambled to find another manufacturer, but it was too late. In the shoe business, if you miss a delivery, you’re finished. Our business imploded and I lost millions. We even tried to unload our shoes to a network of pawn shops across the nation. That didn’t work either.

I soon found out what had happened. Representatives of one of the country’s biggest shoe manufacturers and retailers decided they wanted us out of the business. They threatened other major retailers, saying to each that if they didn’t stop selling our line they would pull their line from that firm’s stores. They also intervened with our manufacturer. It was business-style blackmail. They even blocked our plan to sell in the pawn shops.

As you might expect, I was furious. I stayed angry for a long time. If I’d continued to hold on to that anger, it easily could have turned into bitterness and distrust that would have poisoned me and my relationships with my friends and family. But after a lot of prayer, I sensed God telling me that He had allowed this to happen. Something I often tell people is that God allows bad things to happen to us for a reason. If it’s so bad that it takes us out, we’re dead and gone and the lesson is for someone else. But if we’re still standing at the end of it, the lesson is for us.

I was reeling but still standing after our shoe business collapsed, so I decided I’d better look for the lesson. I realized that if Pro Moves had kept expanding, I surely would have retired early from football to manage the company. I might have made a lot more money than I did in the NFL, but I wouldn’t have had nearly the same visibility and opportunities I have now to speak about God with youth and families. The failure of my shoe company made it possible for me to better serve Him.

By showing me what He’d allowed and why, God prevented me from spiraling into bitterness and steered me onto a more productive path. For me, it was another example of changing what was intended as evil and meant to harm me into something good.

Today, I still run up against conflicts, challenges, and the temptation to repay evil for evil, but I’m learning to give that over to God. Recently, I was driving with Timon and we planned to stop for a bite at a burger joint. We turned left at a light and pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Apparently, the young woman driving a car toward me in the opposite direction felt I’d cut her off. She gave me an obscene gesture as she pulled in behind me.

I was surprised, but I planned to let it go. Then, while inside the restaurant and standing in line to order, I noticed the young woman’s boyfriend was right behind me. In a polite voice, I turned to him and said, “Hey brother, I apologize for going in front of you there, but you really should keep your girlfriend from flipping folks off. You just never know when it’s going to be the wrong person. People get killed over that kind of thing.”

I was surprised a second time when the boyfriend, who was a little bigger than me, went off. “What you gonna do?” he shouted at me. “What you gonna do, bro?” Heads turned in the restaurant.

I had no desire to mess with some crazy dude, especially with my daughter there. I turned and took a few steps away.

“Oh, you better walk away,” he said loudly.

I whipped back around. Now I was being mocked. That NFL competitive fire was rising up in me faster than steam in a teapot. Suddenly, all I could see was me punching this guy in the face and maybe breaking his nose.

That’s when I stopped for an extra split second to get another opinion. It took every ounce of God I had in me, but I let Him take control. He made it clear what I needed to do. Instead of jumping into the macho man thing and teaching this guy a lesson, I took a deep breath and turned around again. Timon and I sat down at a table to eat. The confrontation was over.

I’m not trying to say how godly I am here. I don’t always win that spiritual battle. But it is another example of how we can take a stand against and overcome evil if we stop trying to handle everything ourselves and instead allow God’s Spirit to run the show.

There’s a type of evil that’s more subtle than a threatening boyfriend. It’s the kind that fools people into thinking they can follow God while also keeping one foot in the craziness of this world. I see it all the time. Hey, I know it’s tough to stand up and stand out for your faith. But there’s no middle ground. Either you’re on the team or you’re not. Either you proudly wear the jersey or you’re embarrassed and you take it off. So why not be who you really are, wherever you are? God says, “But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve” (Josh. 24:15).

If you want to blend in with everyone else and live like the world, go for it. But don’t call yourself a Christian. As my pastor has said many times, there’s no place in the Bible where people are called to follow Jesus but aren’t called to change their ways. The change may not be immediate, but as soon as you invite Jesus into your life, He starts going to work on you. You learn to give up the “old man” and take on the new—at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

This is huge for the Christian believer because it has to do with eternal salvation—whether we go to heaven or not. People debate with me about it, saying that even after we ask for Christ’s forgiveness and commit ourselves to Him, we still all sin every day and that God’s grace covers it. That, in other words, our ticket is still punched. Well, it’s true that we still make mistakes, me definitely included, and that God’s grace makes up for it. But it’s one thing to try to follow Jesus and screw up, and another to deliberately turn your back on Him. The Bible puts it plainly: “If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God” (Heb. 10:26–27).

God loved me just as much before I committed my life to Him as He does now. But just because He loves me doesn’t mean I have a seat in His eternal family if I walk away from Him. He’s a loving God but also a just God. Whatever we say or do, He knows what’s in our hearts.

I told you that as a boy, I dreamed of growing up to be a preacher. That didn’t happen, but I must have at least a little preacher in me, because I get pretty upset when I think about these things. I hate to see the devil delude people, and I hate to see those I know and care about miss out on the glory of heaven.

I know I’m getting older, because I think about these matters more—what happens when we die and what kind of legacy we’ll leave behind. That’s what I want to talk about in our last chapter.