The Class of Football

by Adam Schefter

  We have too many young people in this country that are drug addicts. We have too many young people who are too lazy to work. If there is anything we could do as professional athletes, we must give our time. We must give our service to our youngest people and let them understand that they can make it and we need them because they are the greatest resources that this country has, our young people.

  A lot of my colleagues said, “Mel, you’ll get up here and you’ll break down.” But I’ve cried enough. There is a struggle you will pay for anything that you will accomplish. For me, this is an opportunity to get up and say exactly what we represent in the country as athletes.

  What we’ve done on the football field is history. What we will do from this stage on is yet to be seen…. I came from a beautiful family, a family that struggled in the Deep South and instilled in its kids that you can do anything if you are willing to pay a price. It doesn’t matter where you come from; it matters where you are going. That is what makes the difference between success and failure.

  Bob St. Clair

  San Francisco 49ers Tackle

  Class of 1990

  An exceptional offensive lineman who also played in goal-line defenses, St. Clair blocked ten field goals in 1956.

  This all started when I was nine years old. I was a Cub Scout and a flag bearer in the East-West game out in San Francisco in Kezar Stadium and I can remember looking up and seeing these giant football players and saying to myself, “Oh boy, someday, would I love to be able to play football and be like these giant athletes.” Well, needless to say, I played 188 games in that stadium and hold the record today.

  I can remember when I was in high school, I got the best advice from my football coach. He told me, “Bob, you are five-foot-nine, you weigh 160 pounds, you’re fifteen years old, you’re not big enough to make this high school football team. My advice to you is go home and grow a little.” Damn it, I did exactly what he said. I grew six inches in one year and put on 60 pounds.

  My twelve years with the 49ers were so great. They weren’t great in the sense we won championships, but they were great because of the fact that I was able to play with such great football players, my teammates who I dearly love and respect today.

  The satisfaction we had when we played as an offensive line is to watch a back like Hugh McElhenny lead you around the end and flatten that DB and get up and watch Hugh go all the way for a touchdown. Or Joe Perry slashing through the line after you flatten the middle linebacker. Or John Henry Johnson, who was very difficult to block for because every time you knocked someone down, he wanted a piece of the action and he would hit into you, too. That’s what an offensive lineman gets out of the game.

  Earl Campbell

  Houston Oilers and New Orleans Saints

  Running Back

  Class of 1991

  With four games of two-hundred-plus rushing yards in 1980, Campbell finished his career with 9,407 rushing yards and seventy-four touchdowns.

  Presented by Oilers and Saints Coach Bum Phillips

  When you draft a guy, first pick in the whole country, you better know something about him besides his height, weight, and speed. The way it worked out with Earl, we didn’t know we were going to get to trade for his rights, so I didn’t take a whole lot of time studying Earl Campbell. I knew he was the number one pick. I knew he was the best back in the country. But I really didn’t study him very much.

  It may have been about a week before the draft when we got a chance to trade for him. Just before we made it, I said I better find out just how good a kid he is, too. So I called a guy sitting right here in the audience, who I think a lot of, a good amount of, Darrell Royal. I said, “Coach, what kind of kid is Earl Campbell?”

  And his exact words, and I will never forget them, he said, “Bum, he ain’t got a hole in him nowhere.” And believe me, Darrell Royal, you were right.

  He ain’t got no holes in him nowhere.

  Earl Campbell

  Every team I’ve played on, I’ve always tried to share with the guys that I played with. And I think if any of them ever had anything to say about Earl Campbell, they would say he is a giver, not a taker.

  And there goes my mother, Mrs. Ann Campbell. I was listening to her coming back from the Hall the other day going to the hotel. She has seven boys and four girls, and I am number six in the family. I said, “Everything is great; it’s amazing how God blesses you.”

  She said: “I remember one Sunday morning when I was getting dressed for church and I told your daddy, ‘I will never get to go anywhere. I will never get a chance to see anything.’ He said, ‘Darling, you ought to be careful because you never know what God has in store for you.’”

  Well, she said to me, “Who thought I would be here in Canton, Ohio?” I never thought I would be here, Mama, but I am happy you are here.

  The other morning I was jogging and I got to thinking what I really wanted to write down and what I really wanted to say, and I might as well be honest. I said, “Earl, stop fooling yourself, you were a speech major in college, but you never really wrote a speech. Just get up there and talk it off the tilt.”

  But the more and more I tried to write a speech, the one thing about this day beyond football is that my daddy, B. C. Campbell, is up there in heaven with his buddies and he is telling them what a great son he had.

  And every day is not a great day in my life. I mean, I am like everybody else. I work hard and that is all I ever do. I got a lady that has been with me twenty-four years. You stay with them so long you kind of forget it. If it was me, some days I would have said, “Earl, I am through with you, son.” But she reminds me of a song that Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard wrote called “Tougher Than Leather.” That is my wife, Reuna….

  I just want to let all you people in America know that there is no place like this. I’ve never been no place else, but I have heard people talk about it. But I am so proud to be an American. I am so proud of being in the Hall of Fame with the Jim Browns, the Franco Harrises, and someday I’m sure the Walter Paytons and the Tony Dorsetts. But when they say Campbell, I want you all to remember this: the old boy gave it his all.

  Walter Payton

  Chicago Bears Running Back

  Class of 1993

  When he retired after thirteen seasons, Payton was the NFL’s all-time leading rusher with 16,726 yards and combined net yardage with 21,803.

  When you stand up here and you give talks and you give your acceptance speech, there are humorous things that come to mind. One of them is my brother, Eddie Payton, and my sister, Pamela. Because when I was growing up I was the baby and when they had to clean the house on Saturdays and do things when Mom went to work and said, “I want this house clean when I get back,” I thought, “Hey, I was the baby, I didn’t have to do this.” So these guys beat me up.

  That’s the reason why I had the moves that I did because when you have an angry sister and angry brother chasing you with a broom and a wet dishrag, you tend to pick up moves you never had before….

  There was a guy who was supposed to be here today to cointroduce me with my son. But Mr. Jim Finks is having a bout with lung cancer and I want him to know that our prayers are with him because he was the guy who gave me my start. He was the one who called me when I was at Jackson State University the day before the draft and asked me a question. He said, “Walter, how would you like to play for the Chicago Bears?” My answer to him was, “Jim, I will play for anybody.”

  And that was the way I felt at that particular time, and I think if I would have answered that question any different than the way I did, I probably would have been playing for someone else, maybe even Pittsburgh. But blessings come and blessings go.

  The thing I am most proud of and the thing I am most ashamed of coincide with each other. You saw my son up here a few minutes ago and believe me, I had a lump in my throat that was so big it was unbelievable.

  I also have a little daughter, Brittney Jeannette Payton. And I think about her a
lso because their mom was with me for those thirteen years I played and believe me, they were not good because I was not the easiest person to get along with. And because of my wanting to give to so many other people, sometimes you tend to neglect the people you truly love the most.

  And I want to stand up here and say that in this point of my life, that Jarrett, Brittney, and your mom, you guys will not have to worry about anything in your life, no matter what the situation or how it ends.

  I am going to close by saying, life is short, it is oh so sweet. There are a lot of people that we meet as we walk through these hallowed halls, but the things that mean the most are the friendships that you make and take along with you.

  Tony Dorsett

  Dallas Cowboys and Denver Broncos Running Back

  Class of 1994

  During his career in Dallas and Denver, Dorsett ran for 12,739 yards, caught 398 passes, and scored ninety-one touchdowns.

  Presented by Cowboys Coach Tom Landry

  Tony holds the all-time record of a ninety-nine-yard run versus Minnesota in January 1983. The only thing that was surprising at that time was, we only had ten men on the field. That shows you how much coaching has to do with running.

  Tony Dorsett

  I come from a blue-collar background, my hometown of Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, and when I was growing up, I pretty much grew up in two different worlds. Played ball and studied in Hopewell Township and went home to Aliquippa. It was like school was one environment and the streets were another. But looking back on it, I just want to say that it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, not going to school with all my buddies, because it gave me a different perspective on learning and on life.

  You know, when we were growing up, I didn’t know if we were rich or poor. We were growing up in government housing in the projects, but I didn’t know if that meant that we were poor. And the truth is, I had everything that I wanted and everything that I needed. And that is a tribute to my parents.

  I can remember very distinctly the first time I tried out for football in Hopewell Township, my buddy Michael Kimbrough and myself. We stuffed rocks in our pockets to try to make the weight limit. And we were still too light. When I did start playing football, I was scared. I remember the first time I ever touched a football I was so afraid of getting hit, I took off like a little rabbit and ran seventy-five yards for a touchdown….

  Coming out of high school, everyone said I was too small to be a major college running back. There was one guy that didn’t think so. His name was Johnny Majors. I still use today that advice that Coach Majors gave us. Coach Majors would say the little things make big things happen. It is the little things you do—the extra studying in the classroom, running a little farther, envisioning what might happen in a ball game and planning your reactions—that make the big things.

  There was another coach at Pitt, Coach Jackie Sherrill. Jackie Sherrill recruited me to the University of Pittsburgh and gave me a chance. He gave me hope. And he also told me with my size, he said, “Tony, to play major college football, you will probably get knocked around playing the Penn States and Notre Dames of the world.”

  He was right; I did get knocked around. And I remember that sometimes, sometimes coming through the sidelines so beat and bruised up, I didn’t want to go back out there and Coach Sherrill would be there to meet me at the sidelines and say, “Oh, come on, this team needs you. We need you to get back out there for us.” Coach, I just want to tell you, you helped toughen me up. You helped me deal with pain, pain I took for being so small. You also helped me understand that if I wanted to succeed, I had to put the pain behind me and keep going….

  Before I leave, I would just like to say a big word to all those people that are out there trying to make something of themselves. And that is, I am good testimony that you can accomplish just about anything you want to in life. What I’m trying to say is, “Don’t listen to other kids when they tell you that you cannot achieve your dreams. Go out and set some goals for yourself and try to accomplish them. It is what you think of yourself that will make the biggest difference in yourself. And just remember these words: you can, you can, you can.”

  Dan Dierdorf

  St. Louis Cardinals Offensive Tackle

  Class of 1996

  Named the NFL’s best blocker three times, Dierdorf was voted to six Pro Bowls and All-Pro five times.

  Presented by Cardinals Coach Jim Hanifan

  It is my pleasure, and indeed it is an honor, to introduce Dan Dierdorf today. It’s a well-deserved honor of debt for Dan, but it’s also unique, and so many of you out there know that.

  Think of the odds, a young man, from Canton, born and raised right here, started his football career here, goes off to college, becomes an All-American, drafted in the National Football League, played thirteen years, and then comes back today to his hometown, to Canton, and be enshrined into the Hall of Fame. Unbelievable, the odds.

  I’d like to tell you how he did it. I spent ten years with Dan Dierdorf, and I know him extremely well as a player and a person. He is one of those unique persons who has all the qualities to attain greatness in whatever field he would have chosen. And he’s done rather well, I’d say, in both fields that he has taken on.

  As a player, he had that rare combination of size and speed, quickness, strength, and balance. And yet more than that, and what really kind of separated him apart from so many of the others, he had intelligence. Believe me, as his personal coach for years and years, he truly never made a mental mistake. Never did. The attitude, the persistence, the tremendous will, he had a toughness of spirit and a tenacity to excel, and that he did.

  I would have former players—and this is an unbelievable compliment to a player—I would have other players in his era, after they retired, come to me and say: “Dan Dierdorf made me a better player because when we played, he embarrassed me. He embarrassed me and because of that, I told myself that was not going to happen to me again, ever again, and I became a better player.”

  As a coach, the greatest compliment one can give to a player is really truly use their play as an example to younger players. And I have for many years used Dan’s film footage, of him in action and, yes, in practice, and I’ve kept those reels over the years to show my young ones, “Hey, this is how you can do it.”

  Some of them wouldn’t believe me and then they’d see Mr. Dierdorf execute what I was asking for and they’d go, “My goodness gracious, you actually can do it like that. That’s unbelievable.” And he truly was.

  Dan Dierdorf

  I was here in 1962 to watch the groundbreaking when Pete Rozelle turned over a spade full of dirt to start the construction of this building.

  I used to walk down here from my house right there. If you just go under the bridge, and up Harrison Avenue, to Thirty-sixth Street and make a right turn, about two-thirds down the block on the left side, it’s about a mile from here and I could walk it in about fifteen minutes.

  And I used to walk down here and I used to look at that steel over

  the rotunda here that was making that football, and I was thinking to myself, “What the heck is that?” And then I went to every enshrinement ceremony, every Hall of Fame game until I went into the National Football League in 1971. Then, of course, I’ve been here for the last ten years as part of the broadcast crew that does the Hall of Fame game.

  And you think back to what are some of the things that you remember, and I’ll never forget, as long as I live, the teams used to dress originally over in the Field House. And I remember I was probably fourteen years or so of age, and I was standing outside that locker room, and I was distracted. I was looking the other way. And all of a sudden the locker-room door burst open and out of this locker-room door—and you guys will know who I’m talking about—out came Bob Brown, the old tackle for the Philadelphia Eagles and the Rams and the Raiders.

  Bob Brown was about six-foot-six, three hundred pounds, and he had on those old nasty grass spikes
that we used to wear, those things about an inch and a half long with steel on the bottom of them. When you’re walking on the asphalt, sparks come off those things. And Bob Brown walked by me and I thought it was an eclipse. The sun was blotted from my vision and I thought to myself: these men, these men are God. These men are things that I could never be. And there is no way on God’s green earth that I would ever be able to stand here long enough, talk loud enough, or be eloquent enough to ever possibly explain to you what it would be like to go to the side of that locker-room door, to have Bob Brown go past me, to make the quarter-mile trip down here to stand on these steps. It’s truly beyond my comprehension and I’m overwhelmed by it all….

  My election is a validation, not just for myself, but for an awful lot of people who are in the same position I was in. And that is simply this: For a long time it appeared that the only way you could get in the Hall of Fame is if you played on a Super Bowl champion team…. There are an awful lot of good football players in this league that never had the good fortune to be drafted by Pittsburgh, or by Dallas, or by Miami, or by the Raiders. We just happened to go to another team. It doesn’t mean we worked any less, it didn’t mean we weren’t as good. We just weren’t as fortunate in where we had the opportunity to play.

  And let me tell you something. I can only assume that it’s a whole lot easier to get up in the morning and go down to the stadium for practice that first week of December, when you’re 10–2, than it is when you’re 2–10. Cause I know what it feels like to go down there when you’re 2–10, and you try to screw that baby down tight, to play for some pride and to play for the respect of your fellow players around the league….

  And lastly, I know I have spoken too long, but I only get to be here once. I just have one last thing to say. It was my father who brought me here in 1962 to watch this building being dedicated. It was my father that brought me to every Hall of Fame game. It was my dad who went to every one of my high school games, and it was my father who stood with me and watched me grow. And my dad died fifteen years ago and all I can think about is how much he would enjoy this, how much he would enjoy seeing his baby boy go into the Professional Football Hall of Fame.