Though it feels like ancient history, it wasn’t that long ago that Lions running back Barry Sanders shocked the football world by retiring from the game of football.

Sanders, who was on track to shatter the all-time career rushing record (and possibly to set the bar so high that no one could ever get close enough to sniff it), walked away not long before the start of training camp in 1999.  While Sanders’ father made it known that Barry didn’t like how coach Bobby Ross ran the team, Sanders never pointed a finger at Ross.

Recently, Ross pointed a finger at Sanders.

“I don’t know if Barry really loved the game, but he worked hard at it,” Ross said.  ”He did what he was supposed to do.  I always wanted him to be a leader, but he didn’t really want that role.”

How can Ross say Sanders wasn’t a leader?  Though Sanders likely never grabbed teammates by the face masks or rambled in a pre-game meeting about the importance of kicking the crap out of the opponent, Barry Sanders provided the textbook definition of leading by example.

He was quiet, he was humble.  He didn’t draw attention to himself with words, but with his actions on the field.  Not by prancing, dancing, or preening after running for a first down.  By displaying his God-given ability, handing the ball to the official, and jogging back to the huddle for the next play.

So maybe Sanders didn’t “love” football to the point that he was willing to expose himself to repeated physical poundings deep into his 30s, or to the point that he was willing to make a public ass out of himself by demanding a trade to a contending team.  So what?  That was his prerogative.  And, sure, losing Sanders made it harder for Ross to keep his job.  But to suggest that Sanders wasn’t a leader unfairly detracts from one of the greatest men to ever play the game.