If Vincent Edward "Bo" Jackson had his way, Florence Bond would be a candidate for sainthood.

She was his mother, a single parent raising 10 children in Bessemer, Ala., an iron-fisted, no-nonsense matriarch who was his personal GPS growing up in poverty.

Florence died of cancer in 1992 and to this day, Bo Jackson, whom many still consider the greatest multi-sport athlete ever, continues pushing youngsters to use education to better their lives.

Sports is important, of course, but it's the bottom rung on Jackson's climb to success.

He's hoping his Bo Jackson Legacy Athletic Center, to be built in Crown Point and patterned after its Lockport facility, can drive that point home like a walk-off homer.

"Somewhere down the road, we have forgotten to tell our kids what's right and what's wrong and how they should carry themselves," Jackson said. "My partners and I are doing something about it by interacting with these kids on a one-on-one basis. That's how Bo Jackson Elite Sports came about."

Bo knows accessibility and credibility.

"It's more than a sports dome," he said of his Lockport facility. "It's where kids come to learn and hear about life lessons. Not from their coaches. Not from their parents. But from major league athletes they look up to."

Derrick Rose telling your daughter not to be promiscuous or Brian Urlacher telling your son not to take drugs hits home a lot harder. Parents have been losing the peer pressure battle for years while professional athletes and entertainers have this magical hold over their young fans.

"If we had a life lesson seminar, we would pack the house if all the kids knew Mark Buehrle from the White Sox was coming or somebody from the Cubs. They would sit there and actually listen to that person," Jackson said.

"I had guys who came up with me in high school and in college that didn't take what they were supposed to seriously. They got into drinking, into drugs and I didn't. And look at where I am today. Those kids who could've had the same opportunity I had are now asking me if I can help 'em find a job or they're begging for money."

Florence Bond always told her children to act properly, to be respectful of others and get that education. Be accountable. Be somebody. Don't blow it.

In his autobiography, "Bo Knows Bo," Jackson wrote about stealing other kids' lunch money at school so he could have something to eat.

"But I couldn't steal a father. I couldn't steal a father's hug or a father's whipping when I needed one," he said.

Not much has changed, with more single-parent households than ever before.

"Nobody gave a crap about Vince Jackson when he was a kid. Nobody mentored me. Nobody told me what was right," Jackson said of not having a dominant male presence at home. "But my mom told me what was right and wrong. And if I broke her rules, she would beat the crap out of me. That was it.

"I give my kids, who are in college now, and the kids who come into our facility the same speech my mother gave me and my nine brothers and sisters 35 years ago: You can hang out with anybody you want to. I can't stop you. But if you know they're ready to do something stupid that's going to get you into trouble, get my name in the newspaper tomorrow, don't even bother coming home.

"If you get put in jail, mister, then that's where you're staying because I don't have the money to come get you. I'm not putting my house up for bail. I'm not putting my car up for bail because that's the only way I can get to work."

Once, a livid Florence Bond kicked Bo's bedroom door off its hinges to get her point across.

"God put me on this earth for things way more important than running for a touchdown or hitting a 500-foot home run," he said. "It's to work with kids; to put some sunshine in a kid's life."

Then they'd better issue sunglasses at the new Crown Point dome.

Sounds like it's going to be very bright in there.

This column solely represents the writer's opinion. Reach him at al.hamnik@nwi.com.