You look good, nice and tan. Did you have any of those mixed drinks that match the color of the obscenely picturesque ocean? Did they have little umbrellas? If I were there, I would have grabbed cold beers from a big metal bucket of ice with condensation running down the sides like the sweat on the scantily clad bodies around me after a game of beach volleyball.

Let's be serious: you earned that spring break. You deserve to soak your skin in as much sun as it can take (sometimes more) and your liver in as much alcohol as it can take (usually way more.)

But not everybody could make it out to a tropical destination this year. Some didn't want to, like LaMar Stewart.

The freshman linebacker chose instead to return to Reading, where the temperature was about 35 degrees on Monday. While there he finally got some time to himself, some time with his girl, some time with his family.

"I get a kick out of that," he said. "Not drinking and partying all night."

He got in a few workouts, caught up with old friends and followed the regular I-went-home-for-spring-break routine.

Wednesday morning, though, he donned his blue and white jersey and took a trip to his old elementary school, Lauer's Park. As he walked into the old building he realized that the task ahead gave him an incredible opportunity to really affect kids' lives. He would be able to tell them the things he wished he knew when he was in their seats.

See, LaMar learned the tough way -- through experience. He told the fourth and fifth graders (who had never been so well behaved in their entire lives) about the 24 demerits he got -- in one week. Surely, the worst kid in the class got jealous then, thinking his 21 demerits from the week before had been a record, but that same kid also realized that there was the possibility of something better ahead.

That swoosh above the No. 37 on Stewart's jersey spoke volumes to those kids. LaMar was at Penn State and he was a football player. We stroll around campus and see football players all the time, and maybe we forget how special this place really is.

Or maybe we can't even comprehend what a visit like Stewart's means to the kids of Lauer's Park Elementary school. The majority of them will go on to Stewart's alma mater, Reading High. The castle-structured building up on 13th street is one of those schools where you walk in on your first day as a freshman with almost 2,000 classmates, hoping you are one of the 900 or so who walk across the stage four years later.

So Stewart told the kids what got him "over the rough times" to where he is now.

"I told them three things," he said, "to respect elders, follow the rules, and always, always work hard."

He told the kids to take a step back if they felt themselves falling behind or getting in trouble.

"Sometimes, you just have to realize what's going on and remember what you are working for."

Charles Barkley was quoted in the Feb. 27 edition of Sports Illustrated as saying "Every black kid thinks the only way he can be successful is through athletics. That is a terrible thing..."

The magazine then went on to make the ridiculous comparison of Barkley to Muhammad Ali, a man our generation does not comprehend, though it seems we are silently hoping for his successor, an athlete with social a consciousness and the charisma to have an impact.

Stewart gives kids from his neighborhood a bit more credit than Barkley does.

"I don't think it's fair to say that every kid is looking toward sports as a way to get out," he said. "Some are not gifted that way. But they understand that they have talents that will help them get to where they want to be."

He recalled his own high school days, watching classmates fall to crime, drugs and pregnancy.

"It was a pattern," he said, "and the kids who fell were the ones who weren't in clubs or didn't play sports."

Later in the week, Stewart visited his Latin teacher at Reading High, who made him answer questions about college life for his students. He told the kids about going to bed at 10:30, only to wake up for running and lifting at five in the morning.

"They asked a lot about football," he said. "I wanted them to know that even though I was on a scholarship, academics were still important to me. I used football to get where I am today."

One of just four true freshmen to see significant time last season, Stewart relied on blinding speed and instincts to provide stability at one of the Lions' shakiest positions.

Last Wednesday, those instincts came in handy again, as he interacted with the kids and made them want to follow his three rules.

"I think the kids really listened," he said. "I expected them to be rowdy, but they had questions for me, they listened. When I was that young, I didn't have people coming back and telling me how things were going to be. I went into everything blindly.

"I hope those kids can be ready someday and say 'LaMar explained these things to me.'"

I hope that nobody listens to Charles Barkley, who also called sports "a detriment to blacks." If one of those kids listens to LaMar and signs up for a sport or a club, and that allows him to stay in school and graduate, then sports have had as much as a positive impact as could possibly be expected.

The hope LaMar Stewart gave those kids will stay with them long after he hangs up that No. 37 jersey.