Like many of you, I usually begin my day by scouring the Internet searching for daily sports-related headlines. As I read the newspaper report announcing the death of Dr. Prentice Gautt, tears welled in my eyes. The announcement stunned me as I realized that one of my heroes was gone. To me, Prentice was one of those legendary, larger-than-life figures who could overcome anything.

As I continued to read the report, I reflected upon my first encounter with Prentice. I first met him about a decade ago when I was a young, inexperienced, wide-eyed director of compliance at the University of Missouri, Columbia. I had been working at Mizzou only five days when he visited our athletics department to conduct a two-day Big 12 Conference compliance review. Having been on the job less than a week, I not only had no idea what the compliance review would entail, I also felt unprepared, intimidated and just plain scared.

To me, Prentice Gautt was a giant in our industry, someone that I wanted badly to impress. Thankfully, his engaging personality put me at ease right away. On that day I became fast friends with a true role model and mentor.

Before Prentice visited the campus, I had heard about his life as a person of color who played in the first integrated high-school football game in the state of Oklahoma and who in 1956 became the first African-American to play football for the University of Oklahoma. I admired Prentice because he was a pioneer; much like my own mother who helped integrate Butler High School in Huntsville, Alabama, in the mid-1960s.

I often speak with my mother and grandfather about their experiences growing up in a place where they were not accepted simply because their skin was a bit darker than those of the majority. While we do not live in a perfect country by any means, I cannot imagine the obstacles they faced as they attempted to make things easier for those who followed them into the American higher education system. Although I was not there during Prentice's days as an Oklahoma student-athlete, I suspect that although he was treated unfairly and inhumanely at times, he never complained.

Prentice was not only someone who guided me; he also inspired me. Despite the many difficulties he faced, Prentice was named to the all-Big Eight Conference team twice and became an academic all-American. He did not let his hardships and the burdens of his life deter him. Admirably, Prentice continued to educate himself, earning a Ph.D. at Missouri. It is fitting that the athletics academic center for student-athletes at his alma mater bears his name. As a man who strongly believed in a sound, well-rounded education, there is no one who is more deserving of such a prestigious honor.

Using Prentice as a role model, I set out to duplicate his pursuit of higher education. I felt that if he could earn a doctorate while working as a college athletics administrator, maybe I could do the same thing.

Without Prentice Gautt and other outstanding pioneers there would be no Gene Smith, Herman Frazier or Keith Tribble. There would be no Mike Garrett, Darryl Gross or Warde Manuel. There would also be no great memories of former college greats Archie Griffin, Charles Woodson, Cornelius Bennett, Charlie Ward, Bo Jackson or Barry Sanders. Throughout my career, I have been blessed to work for and with some of the most successful and prominent individuals who helped build and mold this industry. Prentice Gautt certainly ranks high on that list.

Prentice not only was my friend, role model and confidant during the early stages of my career; he was an icon whom I compare to other personal heroes such as Martin Luther King Jr., Colin Powell, John F. Kennedy, John Stallworth and my two grandfathers. As an African-American, Prentice made me proud of my heritage, culture and history. As a man, he made me stand a little taller, walk a bit prouder and strive a bit harder to become who I am today.

Unfortunately, over the past few years Prentice and I did not communicate as often as we did during the earlier days of my career. I suspect he felt that he had nurtured and advised me enough so that I could stand on my own two feet in this profession. And while our communication during the past years waned a bit, the last time I saw him, he acted as if we had seen one another only a few days before. As always, he met me with a firm handshake and embrace, a smile, and gentle, yet firm, words of encouragement.

Of course no one will live forever, but thankfully, Prentice's legacy will live on indefinitely. Like many of you, I did not have an opportunity to say goodbye to my dear friend and colleague. However, I know that I will see him again someday. Until then, Dr. Gautt, I will miss you...we will miss you.

Derrick Gragg is the senior associate athletics director at the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville.