Peterson thankful for relationship

**dirk digler** · 12-15-2006, 08:55 AM

Peterson thankful for relationship
By ELIZABETH MERRILL
The Kansas City Star

They said goodbye last week, because Lamar Hunt was sick and knew time was running out.

Eighteen years together, 296 football games, and Carl Peterson had 15 minutes to say everything as his boss lay in a bed at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas. Eyes welled up, words came slow. What would he say?

“I needed to thank him,” Peterson said. “And he was as gracious as he always was, as sick as he was. It was very emotional for both of us. It was important to have that time.

“There were some personal things I had to say to him, and I will forever thank him for the things he said to me.”

Peterson was bleary-eyed and dressed in black when he showed up in the basement of Arrowhead Stadium on Thursday afternoon, hours after Hunt lost his eight-year fight with cancer. They’d prepared for this, because when you work for a guy known around the NFL as a visionary, you have to look ahead.

The planner in Hunt may have seen this inevitable end last winter, when he signed Peterson to a four-year extension as the Chiefs’ president/general manager. The realist in Peterson knew the toll the radiation, chemotherapy and 60-hour work weeks put on Hunt’s 74-year-old body.

“But you’re never ready,” he said, “for the reality to hit.”

Their relationship, really, started in October 1988. Peterson thanks God for that call, when Hunt asked him to come to Kansas City. But their history went back way further, and Hunt didn’t realize it when they were hammering out the deal.

NFL meetings, Phoenix, mandatory leisure time between the execs. Old commissioner Pete Rozelle had the suits play either tennis or golf together back then. Peterson picked tennis and wound up on a doubles team with Hunt, who swung a pretty mean racket.

“I was a bit intimidated,” Peterson said.

He tossed him the ball, Hunt gave it back and told him to serve first. After a few, “No, I insists,” Peterson threw the ball up, got both feet off the ground and hit it with everything he had.

He nailed Hunt in the back of the head.

“He went down on his knees,” Peterson said. “And I thought I had just killed the owner of the Kansas City Chiefs. I relayed this (story) to Mr. Hunt during this break in the negotiations. And then he said, ‘You know, Carl, I do remember that now, and I’ve been having some recurring headaches. So unless we get this deal done, you’re going to have to talk to my attorney.’ ”

Peterson laughed at the story Thursday and then turned serious.

“Just a special human being, that’s really what he was,” he said. “Unique. Truly unique in every way. I could tell you a lot of those stories.”

Like how Hunt’s handwritten letters should’ve come with a microscope because he wrote so small. Or how the stickler for details used to call when there was a tree that needed trimming outside Lot M.

That’s where Hunt’s true love always rested, with the fans, with the show. He’d tell people his mother must have been bitten by the showbiz bug when she was pregnant with him. He loved the fact that Peterson had a knack for filling the seats and making the game an event.

He loved the tailgate parties and the grilling brats and the whiff of a chilly Sunday morning at Arrowhead. Up until his final days, when it was too hard to negotiate through the cars with his cane, he’d walk through the lots, shake hands with fans and ask how they were doing.

Sometimes, the feedback was negative. Most of the time, the tailgaters couldn’t believe they were talking to Lamar Hunt.

“He just interfaced with them in a way that you knew Lamar Hunt was maybe the greatest fan of all,” Peterson said. “He loved this sport. He loved all sports.”

Peterson told the team of Hunt’s death in a morning meeting. Defensive end Jared Allen said Peterson was visibly, and uncharacteristically, choked up.

It was that kind of a day at Arrowhead. Calls poured in all morning, and public-relations employees scurried for an afternoon news conference where Peterson and coach Herm Edwards came to grips with losing a kindly Texan whose heart was never far away from Kansas City.

Hunt would have hated this, Peterson said. He never wanted to draw attention to himself. But by late Thursday, Peterson was already pondering a tribute when the Truman Sports Complex renovations are complete. Maybe they’ll call the grass Hunt doted over Lamar Hunt Field.

There wasn’t time to talk about it last week. Hunt wouldn’t have listened anyway.

“He was always thinking about the football team, about the fans, about everybody else but himself,” Peterson said. “He never, ever made it about him. I hope that has rubbed off on me and everybody else who has been touched by him. Lord, he has touched a lot of people.”

12-15-2006, 08:55 AM	Topic Starter
dirk digler Please squeeze Join Date: Jul 2003 Location: Clinton, MO Casino cash: $214644	Peterson thankful for relationship Peterson thankful for relationship By ELIZABETH MERRILL The Kansas City Star They said goodbye last week, because Lamar Hunt was sick and knew time was running out. Eighteen years together, 296 football games, and Carl Peterson had 15 minutes to say everything as his boss lay in a bed at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas. Eyes welled up, words came slow. What would he say? “I needed to thank him,” Peterson said. “And he was as gracious as he always was, as sick as he was. It was very emotional for both of us. It was important to have that time. “There were some personal things I had to say to him, and I will forever thank him for the things he said to me.” Peterson was bleary-eyed and dressed in black when he showed up in the basement of Arrowhead Stadium on Thursday afternoon, hours after Hunt lost his eight-year fight with cancer. They’d prepared for this, because when you work for a guy known around the NFL as a visionary, you have to look ahead. The planner in Hunt may have seen this inevitable end last winter, when he signed Peterson to a four-year extension as the Chiefs’ president/general manager. The realist in Peterson knew the toll the radiation, chemotherapy and 60-hour work weeks put on Hunt’s 74-year-old body. “But you’re never ready,” he said, “for the reality to hit.” Their relationship, really, started in October 1988. Peterson thanks God for that call, when Hunt asked him to come to Kansas City. But their history went back way further, and Hunt didn’t realize it when they were hammering out the deal. NFL meetings, Phoenix, mandatory leisure time between the execs. Old commissioner Pete Rozelle had the suits play either tennis or golf together back then. Peterson picked tennis and wound up on a doubles team with Hunt, who swung a pretty mean racket. “I was a bit intimidated,” Peterson said. He tossed him the ball, Hunt gave it back and told him to serve first. After a few, “No, I insists,” Peterson threw the ball up, got both feet off the ground and hit it with everything he had. He nailed Hunt in the back of the head. “He went down on his knees,” Peterson said. “And I thought I had just killed the owner of the Kansas City Chiefs. I relayed this (story) to Mr. Hunt during this break in the negotiations. And then he said, ‘You know, Carl, I do remember that now, and I’ve been having some recurring headaches. So unless we get this deal done, you’re going to have to talk to my attorney.’ ” Peterson laughed at the story Thursday and then turned serious. “Just a special human being, that’s really what he was,” he said. “Unique. Truly unique in every way. I could tell you a lot of those stories.” Like how Hunt’s handwritten letters should’ve come with a microscope because he wrote so small. Or how the stickler for details used to call when there was a tree that needed trimming outside Lot M. That’s where Hunt’s true love always rested, with the fans, with the show. He’d tell people his mother must have been bitten by the showbiz bug when she was pregnant with him. He loved the fact that Peterson had a knack for filling the seats and making the game an event. He loved the tailgate parties and the grilling brats and the whiff of a chilly Sunday morning at Arrowhead. Up until his final days, when it was too hard to negotiate through the cars with his cane, he’d walk through the lots, shake hands with fans and ask how they were doing. Sometimes, the feedback was negative. Most of the time, the tailgaters couldn’t believe they were talking to Lamar Hunt. “He just interfaced with them in a way that you knew Lamar Hunt was maybe the greatest fan of all,” Peterson said. “He loved this sport. He loved all sports.” Peterson told the team of Hunt’s death in a morning meeting. Defensive end Jared Allen said Peterson was visibly, and uncharacteristically, choked up. It was that kind of a day at Arrowhead. Calls poured in all morning, and public-relations employees scurried for an afternoon news conference where Peterson and coach Herm Edwards came to grips with losing a kindly Texan whose heart was never far away from Kansas City. Hunt would have hated this, Peterson said. He never wanted to draw attention to himself. But by late Thursday, Peterson was already pondering a tribute when the Truman Sports Complex renovations are complete. Maybe they’ll call the grass Hunt doted over Lamar Hunt Field. There wasn’t time to talk about it last week. Hunt wouldn’t have listened anyway. “He was always thinking about the football team, about the fans, about everybody else but himself,” Peterson said. “He never, ever made it about him. I hope that has rubbed off on me and everybody else who has been touched by him. Lord, he has touched a lot of people.”
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