It brings a smile to my face every time I look in the record book

The words of Steve Largent, “It brings a smile to my face every time I look in the record book and see my name with the likes of Hutson and Lance Alworth and Raymond Berry, some of the fabled receivers of the NFL. It’s all like a dream to me. I can’t believe it’s true,” are not the boast of a conqueror, but the humble wonder of one who has climbed the mountain and yet marvels still at the view. In this confession, we hear gratitude, humility, and awe—a reminder that even those who achieve greatness are often astonished by the company they keep when history remembers them.

The smile that comes to Largent’s face is no ordinary smile. It is the smile of a man who knows his labor, his sweat, his sacrifice have borne fruit beyond imagining. To see his name beside the legendary Hutson, Alworth, and Berry is to glimpse himself woven into the great tapestry of the game’s history. Yet he does not speak with pride alone—he speaks with disbelief, as if to say, “How could someone like me walk among the giants?” This humility makes his triumph shine all the brighter.

The ancients, too, spoke of this paradox: that the truly great often see themselves as small. Alexander the Great, upon hearing of the countless worlds in the heavens, wept because he had not yet conquered even one. Isaac Newton, after unlocking the mysteries of gravity, said he felt like a child playing with seashells upon the shore. And Largent, though among the greatest to play the game, sees his name not as a claim to superiority, but as a gift—a dream too wondrous to be real.

In his words we find also the power of legacy. The record book is more than a ledger of numbers; it is a scroll of remembrance, where the deeds of men are preserved beyond the span of their lives. To dwell among names like Hutson and Berry is to be assured that one’s efforts will not fade into dust, but will echo in the memory of future generations. This is the dream that all seekers of greatness pursue—not only victory in the moment, but a place in the unbroken chain of those who came before and those who will follow.

Yet there is also a lesson in Largent’s disbelief, his repeated words: “I can’t believe it’s true.” For this shows us that even when we achieve the heights we long for, the soul may still marvel, as if it were all grace. It is a reminder to remain humble, to never allow the crown of accomplishment to weigh too heavily upon the head. The most enduring heroes are those who, even when they sit among legends, remember that they too once dreamed in the shadows of others.

The teaching here is clear: greatness is not only in skill or achievement, but in the spirit with which one receives recognition. To smile with gratitude, to honor those who paved the way, to remain astonished even at one’s own success—this is the nobility of true champions. The arrogant glory in themselves alone; the wise see themselves as part of a greater story.

To practice this wisdom, let each person honor those who came before them in their craft, their family, their calling. When you achieve, remember it is not only your name that shines, but the names of those whose footsteps you followed. And when recognition comes, let your heart be filled not with pride alone, but with gratitude and wonder, saying, as Largent did, “I can’t believe it’s true.” In this way, your triumphs will not puff you up, but anchor you in humility and reverence.

So remember, O child of tomorrow: when your name is written among the greats, let it bring a smile of humility, not a smirk of pride. See yourself as part of a lineage of legends, a dream passed down from generation to generation. For it is not the records themselves that endure, but the spirit of gratitude and wonder that makes greatness truly immortal.