Walter Payton's premature passing forced a rethinking of his autobiography that completely sidesteps the self-importance that dominates sports memoirs in general. Never Die Easy isn't a traditional autobiography at all. It's an oral history disguised as autobiography that relates the saga of the most exquisite running back in NFL history through an interweaving of Payton's words and the words of those who knew him, with necessary transitions and narrative bridged by his collaborator. The result is an appealing hybrid that mirrors Payton's quiet modesty. "He had not just been a great football player," writes Yaeger, "he had been a role model in an age when role models were in short supply."

The Payton that emerges is a man of great skill, decency, passion, and charity: a man beloved. Naturally, there's lots of football in Never Die Easy--the title comes from a saying of Payton's college coach--with eyewitness testimony provided by the likes of Mike Ditka, Mike Singletary, Jim McMahon, Franco Harris, Matt Suhey, and even Jim Brown, whose career rushing record Payton leaped over. But there is also lots of family: the voices of his wife, children, brother, and sister are heard.

But mostly, there is Walter Payton. It's his own unmistakably high-pitched voice that resonates throughout; he sets down the melody and the others harmonize. Payton was certainly astute about the game and his abilities, forthcoming both in triumph and failure--his unsuccessful attempt at winning the NFL franchise in St. Louis was a terrible post-career blow--and utterly decent. How many other superstar athletes could say, convincingly, "Too many of us only take. We don't give." Payton gave to the end--a man who died for want of an organ was willing and eager to donate his own. It was the ultimate testimony of his refined, unforgettable Sweetness. Never Die Easy offers a fair, honest, appreciative taste. --Jeff Silverman


From Publishers Weekly
It's a testament to Payton's greatness as a man that nearly half his autobiography can be devoted to what he achieved after his career. "Sweetness" may hold the NFL's career rushing record, and he may have been one of the toughest, hardest-working players ever, but he was also devoted to keeping spirits high around him, even when facing the end of his own life, and committed to helping needy children. He was so important to others that many immediately took up the latter task when he was dyingAand tens of thousands more sent him their prayers and sympathy. (Payton died of liver cancer in November 1999.) With a protagonist like this, Payton's book isn't your standard sports bio. Nor is it traditional in structure. Because Payton died before his autobiography was completed, his interviews have been supplemented by the stories and thoughts of family and friends, with sports biographer Yaeger providing the connective tissue. More an oral history than an autobiography, the book sometimes suffers for it. Payton's career is dealt with summarily; frequently, stories are repeated, if from different perspectives, and Payton's many remarkable qualities are each noted many times over. The five eulogies from his funeral all elaborate on the same points: his skills and his humility. Payton had an abundance of each. (Sept.) Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Library Journal
This is a posthumous autobiography of the late, great Walter Payton, the National Football League's all-time leading rusher. The book chronicles his days at Jackson State University, his pro career with the NFL's Chicago Bears, and his death on November 1, 1999 from lung cancer. The title epitomizes Payton's football career; college coach Bob Hill once told him "If you are going to die anyway, die hard, never die easy," and that became his motto. Unequivocally, Payton was a true sports hero, one comfortable with the celebrity status, always polite, and aware of his position as a role model. Payton and coauthor Don Yaeger used a unique format in documenting the athlete's life: Each of the 19 chapters features a cast of characters who provide insights about the man they called Sweetness. Recommended purchase for all public libraries.- Larry R. Little, Penticton P.L., BC Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Booklist
Payton, the all-time leading ball carrier in the National Football League, was admired not only for what he did on the field but also for his graciousness off the field. When he died of complications resulting from cancer in November 1999, the sporting nation mourned. This was supposed to be a standard as-told-to sports autobiography, but as Payton's condition worsened, the traditional format was altered to include first-person recollections of Walter from family, teammates, coaches, and business associates. Combined with Walter's own account of growing up poor but happy in Columbia, Mississippi, the portrait that emerges is of a very determined, compassionate, and intelligent individual. And silly. If there is a single element of Payton's personality that dominates the memories of those around him, it's his sense of humor. Consider this: as Walter neared the end, he cajoled best friend and former Chicago Bear teammate Matt Suhey into a drive to say some farewells. Using Walter's directions, Suhey and passenger would arrive, and Suhey would knock on the door. A complete stranger would emerge to find Suhey embarrassed and Walter giggling in the front seat. Very little space is devoted to Walter's NFL playing days, which have been well documented elsewhere; instead, Yaeger focuses on the progression of Walter's cancer and on his always positive approach. On the field, Payton never ran out of bounds and never dodged a hit, teaching a generation how to play football. In this very moving book, he offers a new lesson: how to live and die with grace and purpose. Wes Lukowsky
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved


Review
"If you ask me how I want to be remembered, it is as a winner. You know what a winner is? A winner is somebody who has given his best effort, who has tried the hardest they possibly can, who has utilized every ounce of energy and strength within them to accomplish something. It doesn't mean that they accomplished it or failed, it means that they've given it their best. That's a winner." —Walter Payton


Review
"If you ask me how I want to be remembered, it is as a winner. You know what a winner is? A winner is somebody who has given his best effort, who has tried the hardest they possibly can, who has utilized every ounce of energy and strength within them to accomplish something. It doesn't mean that they accomplished it or failed, it means that they've given it their best. That's a winner." ?Walter Payton


Book Description
"Never die easy. Why run out of bounds and die easy? Make that linebacker pay. It carries into all facets of your life. It's okay to lose, to die, but don't die without trying, without giving it your best."

His legacy is towering. Walter Payton—the man they called Sweetness, for the way he ran—remains the most prolific running back in the history of the National Football League, the star of the Chicago Bears' only Super Bowl Championship, eleven times voted the most popular sports figure in Chicago's history. Off the field, he was a devoted father whose charitable foundation benefited tens of thousands of children each year, and who—faced with terminal liver disease—refused to use his celebrity to gain a preferential position for organ donation. Walter Payton was not just a football hero; he was America's hero.
        Never Die Easy is Walter Payton's autobiography, told from the heart. Growing up poor in Mississippi, he took up football to get girls' attention, and went on to become a Black College All-American at tiny Jackson State (during which time he was also a finalist in a Soul Train dance contest). Drafted by the Bears in 1975, he predicted that he would last only five years but went on to play thirteen extraordinary seasons, a career earning him regular acknowledgment as one of the greatest players in the history of professional football. And when his playing days were over, he approached business and charity endeavors with the same determination and success he had brought to the football field, always putting first his devotion to friends and family. His ultimate battle with illness truly proved him the champion he always had been and prompted a staggering outpouring of love and support from hundreds of thousands of friends and admirers.
        Written with veteran journalist and author Don Yaeger in the last weeks of Walter Payton's life, Never Die Easy presents Walter's singular voice—warm, plainspoken, funny, self-aware—along with the voices of the friends, family, teammates, and business associates who knew him best at all stages of his life, including his wife, Connie, and their children, Brittney and Jarrett; his teammate and friend Matt Suhey; former Bears head coach Mike Ditka; and many, many others.
        Walter made Don Yaeger promise that his book would be "inspirational and leave people with some kind of lesson . . . and make sure you spell all the words right." Never Die Easy keeps all those promises.


Download Description
His legacy is towering. Walter Payton -- the man they called Sweetness, for the way he ran -- remains the most prolific running back in the history of the National Football League, the star of the Chicago Bears' only Super Bowl Championship, eleven times voted the most popular sports figure in Chicago's history. Off the field, he was a devoted father whose charitable foundation benefited tens of thousands of children each year, and who -- faced with terminal liver disease -- refused to use his celebrity to gain a preferential position for organ donation. Walter Payton was not just a football hero; he was America's hero. Never Die Easy is Walter Payton's autobiography, told from the heart. Growing up poor in Mississippi, he took up football to get girls' attention, and went on to become a Black College All-American at tiny Jackson State (during which time he was also a finalist in a Soul Train dance contest). Drafted by the Bears in 1975, he predicted that he would last only five years but went on to play thirteen extraordinary seasons, a career earning him regular acknowledgement as one of the greatest players in the history of professional football. And when his playing days were over, he approached business and charity endeavors with the same determination and success he had brought to the football field, always putting first his devotion to friends and family. His ultimate battle with illness truly proved him the champion he always had been and prompted a staggering outpouring of love and support from hundreds of thousands of friends and admirers.


From the Inside Flap
"Never die easy. Why run out of bounds and die easy? Make that linebacker pay. It carries into all facets of your life. It's okay to lose, to die, but don't die without trying, without giving it your best."

His legacy is towering. Walter Payton—the man they called Sweetness, for the way he ran—remains the most prolific running back in the history of the National Football League, the star of the Chicago Bears' only Super Bowl Championship, eleven times voted the most popular sports figure in Chicago's history. Off the field, he was a devoted father whose charitable foundation benefited tens of thousands of children each year, and who—faced with terminal liver disease—refused to use his celebrity to gain a preferential position for organ donation. Walter Payton was not just a football hero; he was America's hero.
        Never Die Easy is Walter Payton's autobiography, told from the heart. Growing up poor in Mississippi, he took up football to get girls' attention, and went on to become a Black College All-American at tiny Jackson State (during which time he was also a finalist in a Soul Train dance contest). Drafted by the Bears in 1975, he predicted that he would last only five years but went on to play thirteen extraordinary seasons, a career earning him regular acknowledgment as one of the greatest players in the history of professional football. And when his playing days were over, he approached business and charity endeavors with the same determination and success he had brought to the football field, always putting first his devotion to friends and family. His ultimate battle with illness truly proved him the champion he always had been and prompted a staggering outpouring of love and support from hundreds of thousands of friends and admirers.
        Written with veteran journalist and author Don Yaeger in the last weeks of Walter Payton's life, Never Die Easy presents Walter's singular voice—warm, plainspoken, funny, self-aware—along with the voices of the friends, family, teammates, and business associates who knew him best at all stages of his life, including his wife, Connie, and their children, Brittney and Jarrett; his teammate and friend Matt Suhey; former Bears head coach Mike Ditka; and many, many others.
        Walter made Don Yaeger promise that his book would be "inspirational and leave people with some kind of lesson . . . and make sure you spell all the words right." Never Die Easy keeps all those promises.


From the Back Cover
"If you ask me how I want to be remembered, it is as a winner. You know what a winner is? A winner is somebody who has given his best effort, who has tried the hardest they possibly can, who has utilized every ounce of energy and strength within them to accomplish something. It doesn't mean that they accomplished it or failed, it means that they've given it their best. That's a winner." —Walter Payton


About the Author
ABOUT THE COAUTHOR

Don Yaeger is the coauthor of the New York Times bestselling Under the Tarnished Dome and the critically acclaimed Pros and Cons: The Criminals Who Play in the NFL. He lives in Tallahassee, Florida, with his wife, son, and daughter.


Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The Greatest Bear of Them All

The young man from Columbia, Mississippi, would have been shocked, maybe even a little embarrassed, by all the attention. He certainly would have been humbled. In the hours after Walter Payton passed away on November 1, 1999, something special happened to the world of sports. For one shining moment, people forgot the problems that plague sports today—disrespectful athletes, teams holding cities hostage, out-of-control fans—and focused instead on what is good about sports, all of which was embodied by that young man from Columbia.

Few things can bring a city as vibrant as Chicago to a standstill. Fewer still are the things that can bring together a group of loosely organized people, a group like those involved in professional football. So forgive Connie Payton if she was, as she said, absolutely awestruck by the reaction that followed her husband's death. Sports fans will not soon forget where they were when they heard that the Greatest Bear of Them All was gone.

A zealously private man, Walter Payton had left pro football nearly thirteen years earlier and had only rarely attended games and participated in NFL-related events. Walter had grown to believe there wasn't much more he could do for the game he once played. There weren't many players he admired and even fewer whom he enjoyed watching. The game, he worried, was in trouble because so many players didn't understand the value of team, didn't understand what it was like to have played in "his time" even though it was really not so long ago. Walter had worried there was nothing left he could give to the game.

Nothing, Connie Payton found out, could be further from the truth.

During the first few days of November 1999, coaches, players, fans, and broadcasters from across the country took time out to talk about Walter Payton and what he had meant to them. What he meant was not 3,838 carries, 16,728 yards, 110 touchdowns. What he meant was more than that. Those eulogizing him chose instead to recall a story about a time they saw him sign an autograph for a fan in a hospital, spend pregame time talking to those in the stands or cuddling a child handed down to him from the crowd.

The grief and affection that flowed from all corners of America served as a billboard-size lesson of what the game once was and should still be. Yes, he held great records. Yes, his runs were often spectacular—even the runs that gained only a handful of yards. Yes, he was the most talented player of what many considered the most talented professional football team in the modern era. He showed that you could be a superstar and still be someone whom people could touch. He was down-to-earth, funny, always looking for a rear end to pinch. He loved to laugh, showing off that perfect smile, yet he wasn't afraid to cry. He was a man's man and every mother's dream. Payton had not just been a great football player, he had been a role model in an age when role models are in short supply.

Most would agree that the death of almost any other player would not have hit lovers of football quite the way Walter Payton's untimely passing did. The league asked teams to fly flags at half-mast. Moments of silence were offered at stadiums from Buffalo to San Diego. Players remembered him by scribbling his name or number on their shoes. And while honoring him, those in pro football came together in a way that touched even the most hardened. Honoring his passing brought together the men who had played with and against him, the coaches who had tried to stop him, younger players who knew him only through video highlights, and fans, many of whom had never even seen him play. In that time of mourning, pro football rallied and became a community again.

And maybe that was Walter's greatest gift—not his athletic talent but his unmatched ability to touch all those who came in contact with him.

Connie Payton: Walter would have been shocked at the response from people all around the world upon his passing. I was quite shocked. When we were making the funeral arrangements, Ginny and Matt kept talking about security to help with crowd control. They mentioned checkpoints at the door of the church and finding a church large enough to hold the number of people that would be in attendance. I looked at them with this puzzled expression on my face and said, "What are you two talking about?" Their response to me was "Don't you realize how many people are going to want to attend Walter's funeral and the memorial service?" It was more than I ever imagined and knowing Walter the way that I do, I'm sure that he would have been just as surprised. I wondered what it was about him that made people respond the way they did. As quiet as he could be there must have been something magical about the way he reacted around others. Then I realized that it was nothing magical but his genuine spirit and his openness that set him apart from all the other athletes. It didn't matter who the person was that wanted his time. He would stop and talk, even when he didn't want to at times. About a week or so after he passed, my mother and I were at the car wash and we were approached by several people telling their personal Walter stories. There were also stories of encounters with Walter that had been told to them by friends or family members. The stories were as simple as: He held my baby, he touched my son's head, asked him how he was doing in school, made him give Mom or Dad a kiss, then said to them, That's what you are supposed to do. He did have a special way with kids and he loved babies. The stories could go on and on, but it's evident as to why people felt that they knew him personally.

Eddie Payton (Walter's brother): Walter's last days were pretty much the greatest days of my life, being able to be there with him at the end. It wasn't a sad time, but it was an emotional time. You had a mother, a brother, and a wife, a son and a daughter, taking care of him. He knew what was happening, was well aware of it, accepted it. He knew what his fate was, never asked me why, never bitter, enjoyed every day that he was with us. He talked and laughed and joked with people who came in to visit as long as he could. As long as his stamina would allow, and then he'd rest. Then he'd wake up and be ready to talk again. It was one of the most beautiful things that I'd ever witnessed and one of the greatest shows of courage that, in my short lifetime, I've ever witnessed. Because for a man to go with that much pride and that much dignity just says volumes about who he was. He crammed about as much as he could in forty-five years of life. I mean, he helped, touched, inspired, worked for the betterment of so many people. And then he was able to accomplish some of his lifetime goals. Got two great kids who are going to be great Americans. One's gonna be a hell of a football player. And he's instilled in them some of the things that our parents instilled in us. And when you look at your kids and see them doing well, or better than you did, you say, I've done something right. Walter said that before he finally died.

Connie Payton: Matt was spending a great deal of time at the house with Walter. On Saturday, nine days before Walter died, Matt came over to take him out for a ride, which he did often. It was a good morning for Walter. He shaved, got dressed, and the two of them went out for a little while. Several weeks before, we had started him on a liquid nutrition supplement, which was working out extremely well. He was feeling a lot stronger, doing more things around the house. We would take longer walks in the neighborhood. We all felt that he was getting better with each day. We also had nurses stopping in to do the treatments that we couldn't do at home ourselves. One of the things that we had to do often was to take his temperature. Walter had a PICC line in his right shoulder, which was used to draw blood and feed him his nutrition. It was also inserted there to make it easier for everyone involved because Walter had a fear of needles and wouldn't let anyone near him to draw blood from his veins, which had started to collapse. On that Saturday evening, the nurse found that he was running a slight temperature. She said that we should watch it and that she would take it again when she came in on Sunday morning. She came that morning and found that he was still running a fever. We were told to call the doctor, which we did. The doctor asked us to come to the hospital just to make sure that an infection hadn't set in.

We took Walter to the Midwest Treatment Center. My family and I thought that maybe it was time to change the PICC line because it was only a temporary line anyway. We didn't worry because he seemed to be in good spirits. As a matter of fact, on our way to the hospital we had a great conversation with one of his former teammates, Thomas Sanders, and his family, who were waiting outside our home. We talked for a while, then he and Thomas hugged and kissed before we went on our way. The doctors were waiting for us when we arrived at the hospital around two-thirty p.m. Walter got out of the car on his own. A wheelchair was waiting to take him upstairs.

When we went to the hospital, we had no reason to think anything but that possibly Walter had a minor infection, but little did we know that it was a bigger problem. His body was beginning to shut down. The fluid that he started to retain was because his kidneys were failing. I couldn't believe what I was seeing or hearing. In less than three and a half hours, my husband could no longer get himself up, he could hardly speak. He was aware that something more serious was happening to him. The doctors explained that they wanted to put him on dialysis. I then had to tell him what they wanted to do; his eyes were open very wide. I told him that we should consider it, do whatever we had to do to live. He said to do whatever I thought was right.

By Sunday night, his mother and I knew that his condition was getting worse. The doctor had started the dialysis to relieve pressure. The doctors knew medically there was not much more that they could do for Walter. We all wanted him to be comfortable. He was sleeping a great deal and we made the decision not to say anything to him about the grim outlook. Such dramatic changes in such a short period of time. Again I thanked the good Lord for our reaching the hospital before any of this happened.

On Monday morning, the doctors said to have Jarrett come home from Miami. I made the dreaded call to the University of Miami, spoke to the athletic director and coaches. I wanted them to know all the details so that they could help prepare our son emotionally. Jarrett was not told all the details, but he knew that it was important for him to get home. We made the travel arrangements, which got him home late Monday night. Once he arrived home, he, Brittney, and I had a talk about the turn of events. On Tuesday morning, we all went to the hospital to see Walter. It was very emotional for all of us. Brittney took it the hardest. The kids talked to him, held his hand, and kissed him. He recognized them, he even said a few words to Jarrett. I really think he knew that Brittney was upset, so he held on to her hand tightly. He was very tired, but was trying hard to stay with us. We told him to rest, that we would all be there for him.

On Wednesday, after talking to his doctors and being told that there was nothing more to do to better his condition, I decided to bring him home, where I knew he would want to be. Walter loved our home; after all it was our dream house. The hospital made all the arrangements to have hospice available and to get all the necessary hospital equipment set up at the house so that we could make him as comfortable as possible. I wanted everything to be perfect, nothing broken, nothing missing! Once things were in order, the ambulance arrived for the trip home. It seemed like a long trip home, so different than the trip to the hospital. The one thing that was the same for me is that I had the same faith to keep believing and trusting in God. After all, faith is believing in the things unseen, and we walk by faith, not by sight.

Walter was amazing. He fought to live. Our friends and I prayed long and hard. We were not giving up hope; as a matter of fact his condition seemed as if it was getting better. He began to respond to us more and his kidneys were functioning better also. He didn't seem as swollen and his eyes were not as jaundiced. We were very thankful for what was happening. We were so sure that he was getting better that I had planned to send Jarrett back to Miami on Tuesday, November 2.

We brought Walter home because the doctors said that there was nothing more that they could do for him. I knew this, yet I was not prepared for him to die. I wanted so badly for him to get better. He too wanted to beat this dreaded disease. There were so many things to do, for instance watching Jarrett begin his football career at UM, watching Brittney grow into a beautiful young lady with so much to offer the world that lies before her.

FROM OUR EDITORS

Bookseller Reviews

Walter Payton, the man they called Sweetness, ran and ran and ran. As a National Football League back, he gained nine and a half miles (16,726 yards) in his thirteen year career. But after Payton died of liver canceron November 1st, 1999, he wasn't praised as just the greatest runner in N.F.L. history; he was lauded as a remarkable person; a man who, on the edge of death, refused to use his celebrity status to jump the line for a new liver. In fact, in the days after his demise, one heard the same words repeatedly: "He was even a better person than he was a player." Imagine. this autobiography, crafted by Don Yaeger in the last months of Payton's life, could make all but the most heartless cry. The title derives from advice his coach Bob Hill gave Payton on getting hit: "if you're going to die anyway, die hard; never die easy." But Payton didn't die easy; he died sweet.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

"Never die easy. Why run out of bounds and die easy? Make that linebacker pay. It carries into all facets of your life. It's okay to lose, to die, but don't die without trying, without giving it your best."

His legacy is towering. Walter Payton—the man they called Sweetness, for the way he ran—remains the most prolific running back in the history of the National Football League, the star of the Chicago Bears' only Super Bowl Championship, eleven times voted the most popular sports figure in Chicago's history. Off the field, he was a devoted father whose charitable foundation benefited tens of thousands of children each year, and who—faced with terminal liver disease—refused to use his celebrity to gain a preferential position for organ donation. Walter Payton was not just a football hero; he was America's hero.
        Never Die Easy is Walter Payton's autobiography, told from the heart. Growing up poor in Mississippi, he took up football to get girls' attention, and went on to become a Black College All-American at tiny Jackson State (during which time he was also a finalist in a Soul Train dance contest). Drafted by the Bears in 1975, he predicted that he would last only five years but went on to play thirteen extraordinary seasons, a career earning him regular acknowledgment as one of the greatest players in the history of professional football. And when his playing days were over, he approached business and charity endeavors with the same determination and success he had brought to the football field, always putting first his devotion to friends and family. His ultimate battle withillness truly proved him the champion he always had been and prompted a staggering outpouring of love and support from hundreds of thousands of friends and admirers.
        Written with veteran journalist and author Don Yaeger in the last weeks of Walter Payton's life, Never Die Easy presents Walter's singular voice—warm, plainspoken, funny, self-aware—along with the voices of the friends, family, teammates, and business associates who knew him best at all stages of his life, including his wife, Connie, and their children, Brittney and Jarrett; his teammate and friend Matt Suhey; former Bears head coach Mike Ditka; and many, many others.
        Walter made Don Yaeger promise that his book would be "inspirational and leave people with some kind of lesson . . . and make sure you spell all the words right." Never Die Easy keeps all those promises.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

It's a testament to Payton's greatness as a man that nearly half his autobiography can be devoted to what he achieved after his career. "Sweetness" may hold the NFL's career rushing record, and he may have been one of the toughest, hardest-working players ever, but he was also devoted to keeping spirits high around him, even when facing the end of his own life, and committed to helping needy children. He was so important to others that many immediately took up the latter task when he was dying--and tens of thousands more sent him their prayers and sympathy. (Payton died of liver cancer in November 1999.) With a protagonist like this, Payton's book isn't your standard sports bio. Nor is it traditional in structure. Because Payton died before his autobiography was completed, his interviews have been supplemented by the stories and thoughts of family and friends, with sports biographer Yaeger providing the connective tissue. More an oral history than an autobiography, the book sometimes suffers for it. Payton's career is dealt with summarily; frequently, stories are repeated, if from different perspectives, and Payton's many remarkable qualities are each noted many times over. The five eulogies from his funeral all elaborate on the same points: his skills and his humility. Payton had an abundance of each. (Sept.) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.|

VOYA

This book was completed by co-author Yaeger after Payton's 1999 death caused by a rare liver disease. Departing from a straightforward autobiography format, the book consists primarily of reminiscences by Payton, family members, friends, and football and business colleagues. The reader is shown glimpses of his life, from his childhood in a small Mississippi town to his football career to his worthwhile work with children's charities, and ultimately through his illness to his death. One of the National Football League's greatest running backs, Payton set a career rushing record and missed only one game in his thirteen years with the Chicago Bears. Throughout each remembrance, the same qualities appear: Payton's hard work, his never-give-up attitude, his generous charity work, and his graceful handling of being a role model. Particularly telling of his personality is that he never cared for the little jig that some football players do in the end zone; he felt that the practice calls too much attention to the individual player. The conversational format can be tedious, with one person sometimes repeating the same things that another has mentioned. The biographical facts on Payton are hidden within the recollections. There is no index to locate references to his hometown, his football statistics, his press conference about his illness, or his views on organ donation. Nevertheless the format does lend itself to a more intimate feeling, almost as if one were speaking to the contributors. As someone who always tried his hardest at anything he attempted, Payton would be pleased that readers are left with this inspirational story. This book is for libraries serving true sports lovers.Photos. VOYA CODES: 3Q 2P J S A/YA (Readable without serious defects; For the YA with a special interest in the subject; Junior High, defined as grades 7 to 9; Senior High, defined as grades 10 to 12; Adult and Young Adult). 2000, Villard, 268p, . Ages 14 to Adult. Reviewer: Jane Van Wiemokly SOURCE: VOYA, April 2001 (Vol. 24, No.1)

Library Journal

This is a posthumous autobiography of the late, great Walter Payton, the National Football League's all-time leading rusher. The book chronicles his days at Jackson State University, his pro career with the NFL's Chicago Bears, and his death on November 1, 1999 from lung cancer. The title epitomizes Payton's football career; college coach Bob Hill once told him "If you are going to die anyway, die hard, never die easy," and that became his motto. Unequivocally, Payton was a true sports hero, one comfortable with the celebrity status, always polite, and aware of his position as a role model. Payton and coauthor Don Yaeger used a unique format in documenting the athlete's life: Each of the 19 chapters features a cast of characters who provide insights about the man they called Sweetness. Recommended purchase for all public libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 5/15/00.] Larry R. Little, Penticton P.L., BC Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.\

Michael Lichtenstein - New York Times Book Review

Walter Payton, who died on Nov. 1, 1999, at the age of 45, was esteemed as far more than a football player. His coach with the Chicago Bears, Mike Ditka, considered him the greatest football player he had ever seen but even greater as a human being. Never Die Easy, written just before Payton's death from liver cancer with Don Yaeger, author of Pros and Cons: The Criminals Who Play in the N.F.L., draws a vivid portrait of this many-faceted man who journeyed from his childhood home, Columbia, Miss., to the National Football League, where he set the career rushing record of 16,728 yards. He tells of his struggle with cancer and of his decision not to use his fame to move up on the list of organ transplant candidates. Payton had hoped that Never Die Easy would be inspirational, and as with most everything that he attempted, he succeeded.

WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING

When you look at anything Walter did and how he played the game, I don't think anyone was better. He did everything so well. I don't know if it ever looked easy Walter on the field. He was always making it happen, working to make it happen. — Mike Ditka