Everyone Faces Rejection, but Kurt Warner Overcomes It

This past autumn, I applied for entry into the New York City Teaching Fellows program. The program is designed for working professionals who want to alter their career path and enter the field of education. If accepted into the competitive program, one immediately begins teaching in a high-need section of the city while simultaneously working to achieve their master’s degree in education. Within days of submitting my application, I was asked to schedule a time to interview for the position. On a snowy December morning that rivaled the epic storm in "The Shining", I boarded the last Amtrak train at Boston's South Station and departed for my interview in Manhattan.

Despite being as nervous as the "Hollywood Madam" in a cathedral, and even though I banged the pooch on the math portion of my session, I left my interview in the Big Apple and headed back north to New England relatively confident that I was on the brink of becoming a school teacher in the city of New York. From the outset of the interview process, all applicants were informed that our respective teaching fates would be ultimately decided sometime in the vicinity of early February and, right on cue, last week I received an answer from the program. Much to my disappointment, upon final review of my application, I had not been admitted into the Fellowship.

My initial disappointment to being rejected by the program quickly morphed into sadness and my sadness eventually transformed into anger. It would be a gross understatement to claim my ass was simply chapped by the Fellowship's decision on my application. In fact, if a proctologist evaluated my derriere in the immediate aftermath, he would likely have theorized that I performed the moonwalk naked in the arctic conditions of a Yukon winter.  For virtually an entire week, my depression gained momentum and Budweiser served as a crutch and my main dietary supplement. Nearly a week into my state of utter melancholy, a funny and unexpected event helped me break out of my mental funk: watching Kurt Warner try to quarterback the Arizona Cardinals to victory in Super Bowl XLIII.

In one of the greatest Super Bowls ever played, Warner, 37, and the Cardinals (12-8) lost an NFL championship game for the ages to the Pittsburgh Steelers, 27-23, Sunday night at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa. There is little question that Warner, a two-time NFL MVP who has thrown for more than 300 yards in 45.2 percent of his career starts, and his teammates will find little solace in the notion of a moral victory in their loss to the favored Steelers (15-4). Nevertheless, the game yet again illustrated Warner's amazing resolve and his inability to quit in the face of adversity and on his dreams as a whole.

Ever since his days as a third-string signal-caller at the football Mecca that is the University of Northern Iowa, Warner has been dismissed and told he wasn't good enough, like a village idiot applying to study classical mechanics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). Once finally provided his deserving chance to start for the lowly Panthers, Warner was named the Gateway Conference's Offensive Player of the Year.

Upon graduating from UNI, Kurt was cut from the Green Bay Packers' training camp in 1994 and he got a job working the night shift as a stock boy at a local Hy-Vee grocery store for minimum wage. Warner refused to surrender his dream of being a professional football player and he continued to seek employment in the NFL. With the long-hours at Hy-Vee taking their toll and the possibilities of receiving another tryout with an NFL team appearing dim, Warner embarked on his career in the Arena Football League.

In 1995, Warner signed with the AFL's Iowa Barnstormers and immediately made his impact felt on the league. The former stock boy, who was ranked as the No. 12 AFL player of all time, led the Barnstormers to Arena Bowl appearances in both the 1996 and 1997 seasons. In 1998, Warner was signed by the St. Louis Rams and quickly jettisoned by the team to the now defunct NFL Europa to play for the Amsterdam Admirals. Invariably, Warner dominated play from his position and led the European league in both touchdowns and passing yards.

Detecting a glimpse of Warner's potential, the Rams choppered him back to the States and plopped him on the bench as an insurance policy behind their ballyhooed starting quarterback, Trent Green. In a 1999 exhibition game, Warner got the break (no pun intended) he needed when Green suffered a season-ending injury in the second quarter. Warner took control of the Rams' offense and, with the support of running back Marshall Faulk and wide receivers Isaac Bruce, Torry Holt and Az-Zahir Hakim, completed one of the greatest seasons by a quarterback in NFL history by tossing for 4,353 yards and 41 touchdowns.

The Rams, a miserable franchise that went a sterling 4-12 the previous season without Warner, were dubbed "The Greatest Show on Turf" en route to registering the first of three consecutive 500-point seasons. To finalize his Cinderella run, Warner led the Rams through the playoffs and an improbable 23-16 victory over the Tennessee Titans in Super Bowl XXXIV. Warner was deservedly named the Super Bowl MVP, becoming one of only six players to win both the league MVP and Super Bowl MVP awards in the same year.

Warner, an active born-again Christian with his wife, Brenda, continued to dominate the NFL until a barrage of injuries temporarily derailed his career in 2002. With little regard for his vast pedigree or the way he galvanized their dreadful franchise, the Rams unceremoniously released Warner in 2004 in favor of a mediocre gump named Marc Bulger.

In reaction to the Rams' snub, Warner signed a two-year deal in the summer of 2004 to play quarterback for the New York Giants. As always, Warner produced under center and led the Big Blue to an unexpected 5-2 record out of the gate. However, following a two-game losing streak, New York coach Tom Coughlin micturated on Warner and handed the reigns to an unprepared and outmatched rookie, Eli Manning. Manning predictably sucked and the Giants went 1-6 with him under center.

After the 2004 season, Warner boldly signed with the Cardinals to play in the equivalent of football purgatory in Arizona. In customary fashion, Warner was initially devalued by the Cardinals' brass and in a span of three years he lost his starting job in the desert to both a feeble thrower, Josh McCown, and a drunk, frat-boy fornicator from the University of Southern California, Matt Leinart.

Nevertheless, as the adage goes, you can't keep a good man down for long. Over time, Warner again proved his detractors incorrect and he was finally named the rightful and unequivocal starter of the Arizona Cardinals on Aug. 30, 2008. Warner expressed his gratitude this past season by completing nearly 70 percent of his passes for 4,583 yards and 30 touchdowns while shockingly leading the Cardinals to their first Super Bowl appearance since 1947.

Against the Steelers, Warner did everything in his capabilities to lead his squad to glory as he completed 72 percent of his passes for 377 yards and three touchdowns in Super Bowl XLIII. The legendary Warner has now produced the three most-prolific passing yardage games in Super Bowl history. To put Warner's greatness in perspective, former Denver Broncos quarterback John Elway played in five Super Bowls and the San Francisco 49ers iconic leader Joe Montana started in four. Kurt Warner has "only" played in three Super Bowls and he has thrown for more yards than both the aforementioned Hall of Fame signal callers in the grandest game of them all.

As I watched Warner excel Sunday, I smiled and realized that I can still become a teacher one day if that is the profession that I truly covet. There's zero doubt that I would feel honorable making a significant impact on the lives of children and I know that I could be a very competent educator if I was granted the opportunity to teach. Nevertheless, I did choose to become a teacher out of nowhere this past summer during a sudden, George Costanza-like epiphany and perhaps my rejection at this particular time is actually for the best.

I currently have a good job and I work with people that I enjoy being around and I am lucky for those blessings in this Herbert Hoover-ish economic era. Perhaps in the grand scheme my destiny is not to be "no suit-wearin' businessman" like Stringer Bell. Perhaps my destiny is not to become a teacher either. But, if it is, if I am meant to teach, I will and the rejection that I experienced in a single interview in the winter of 2008 will be irrelevant. With help from Kurt Warner, I understand that again now.