21: The story of the late, great Sean Taylor; gone, but not forgotten
By Ian Cummings
The last full game Sean Taylor played was a win.
Against the New York Jets in Week 9 of the regular season. He recorded seven tackles on the day, and forced a fumble. The team won in overtime to improve to 5-3. It was an important win, one that would help them keep up with the Dallas Cowboys, who were soon to be 7-1 at that point, and the Giants, who were 6-2.
It was a normal day for Sean Taylor. Providing a tangible impact for his team. Being a player to rally around. It was a role he’d grown into in his short time as a Redskin. He made his team mates better. Calling him the quarterback of a defense would be an insult. Because he was tougher than a quarterback. He was faster than a quarterback. He was his own breed of special. But his durability was tested in the coming week.
Taylor left the Redskins’ contest against the Eagles early with a knee injury that would sideline him for a number of weeks. He went home, to Miami, to be with his daughter and fiancee. It was supposed to be a temporary stay. But that changed.
It was on the night of November 26, just after the team’s loss to the Buccaneers in Tampa, that it happened. In the place where the sea blended with the sky, and where even at night, the wildlife never slept. Where the palm trees swayed in the wind, and the birds let the ocean breeze carry them wherever it desired to go.
It was hurricane country, and on November 26, a hurricane struck.
Robbers invaded Taylor’s residence in the night. They made their way through the house, heading to Taylor’s room, aiming to break into the man’s safe. When they burst through the door, Taylor was holding a machete, defending his fiancee and daughter. Protecting his family. The attackers fired two shots. One missed.
And one hit his femoral artery.
There was fragile hope that he would make it through the night. Come on, Sean. You ran sprints before practice. You lifted three times a day. You ran back home. Did it again and again. You worked harder than anyone. You pushed yourself to the limits. You fought, and you won. Fight through this, Sean. You can do it.
No. He couldn’t fight it. Mortality is a different enemy. It does not feign when called upon by fate. You don’t intercept it. You don’t drive it into the ground and spit in its face. And sometimes, even when you long to see your wife, and your daughter, and your friends, and that field just one last time… sometimes, it isn’t enough. Mortality wins when it wants to. And after multiple failed blood transfusions, Sean Taylor died early on November 27. He fought hard. But there are some opponents no one can beat.