Before there was “The King of Country,” there was just a soldier with a guitar and a heart that missed home. In the barracks, between drills and long nights, George Strait sang not to escape — but to remember. “It kept me sane,” he once said. “The music — it gave me something solid.” When he came back from the Army, he didn’t chase Nashville. He drove toward it — one dusty Texas town at a time, one honky-tonk stage after another, learning the kind of patience only the road can teach. People say success builds character. George would tell you the opposite. “Character builds success. The rest is noise.” And when “Troubadour” came years later, it wasn’t a song about aging — it was a confession. He was still that same man, still walking the same road, still believing that grace comes from grit and gratitude. Because crowns are given. But roads — roads have to be earned.
“Scroll down to the end of the article to listen to music.” Introduction I remember the first time I heard…