The Class of Football

by Adam Schefter

  And Dad, all I can tell you is that I hope I honor you by being here today.

  Mike Munchak

  Houston Oilers Guard

  Class of 2001

  A devastating blocker, Munchak was selected to nine Pro Bowls.

  Presented by Oilers and Titans Offensive Lineman Bruce Matthews

  I met Mike in 1983 at training camp in San Angelo, Texas, when the Houston Oilers had drafted me. My first impression of “Munch” was that he was quiet, and more important, he could lay out a lot of pain on the football field.

  The guy was impressive in his uniform, to say the least. He had these big ol’ guns, and it looked like the good Lord just slapped flesh on his shoulders and triceps where it wasn’t on other people.

  I think the fortunate thing that for me as a player was that I had the type of player that I wanted to be like playing on the same line as me. When we watched film, I would first watch to see how I did on the play, then I would watch Mike to see the way that it was supposed to be done. Playing alongside Mike and following his example is a huge part of what has made me the player that I am.

  He set a standard of excellence that myself and every offensive lineman who played with him has tried to emulate. The hits that he put on linebackers were legendary and they were frequently the topics of many mealtime conversations with the Oilers.

  One play that comes to mind was a shot that he put on a Browns defender whom I hold in high regard—because it’s my brother, Clay. On a screen pass in 1992, Mike ran out in the flat and the defender, he saw him coming for about five yards. Mike hit him, the guy gyrated through the air five yards back, and it was one of the most awesome hits I’ve ever seen. Our free-spirited punter Greg Montgomery later commented that it looked like a cat getting hit by a pickup truck.

  After Mike retired, he stayed on as a coach, an offensive line coach—my coach. And we’ve never had a problem balancing our friendship and the player-coach relationship. I believe that I’m one of the very few players, if ever, who has shared the kind of relationship that I have with Mike right now. It’s something that has kept me playing and helped me be the player I am.

  Mike believes that there are a few basic fundamentals that if you can master as an offensive lineman, you can be successful on every play, and he hammers them into us daily, almost too often. I sometimes have to chuckle, though, when the rookies come in and they are “Yes, sirring” and “No, sirring” Coach Munchak and they’re shaking in their boots at his every beck and call.

  Mike doesn’t scream much, he doesn’t raise his voice much, but when he speaks, there’s an authority in it because we recognize that there isn’t anyone who has ever done it better than him. So we better darn well listen to what he’s saying.

  Mike Munchak

  I’ve been sitting up here the past hour, nervous as heck because I’ve been envisioning that any moment someone from NFL security is going to show up and say, “Hey, Munchak, what are you doing up here? Get off that stage. It’s for the Hall of Famers. You’re just some blue-collar guy from Scranton, Pennsylvania.”

  I say this because that was my initial thought when I was told of my election. “How could I be a part of this elite group here?” Heck, I was thrilled when I was a kid just to have their football cards. We’d even fight over them in the neighborhood, flip over them, just try to fight for them.

  I have always loved pro football. From as far back as I can remember, I spent Sundays watching the NFL on TV with my dad. My favorite part was watching that sixty-minute highlight show of the past week’s action narrated by John Facenda—his famous voice describing the hard-hitting action, the slow-motion replays, and that great NFL Films music that went perfectly with the game action and gave me the chills. In fact, it still does as I watched some of the highlights last night. I still get that same feeling inside me, like I was ten years old all over again.

  It made me wish that someday I could be one of those great warriors. After the games, we’d go outside with my friends and pretend to be those guys. We’d pretend to be Bart Starr throwing a touchdown pass to Lynn Swann making the acrobatic catch or Jack Youngblood sacking the quarterback. And Nick Buoniconti leading the “No-Name” defense. I never pretended to be an offensive lineman. I guess now I know who the important guys truly are.

  Elvin Bethea

  Houston Oilers Defensive End

  Class of 2003

  An eight-time Pro Bowl selection, Bethea led the Oilers in sacks six times. He played sixteen years and 210 games.

  I must begin with my high school coach, back in 1960-whatever. His name was Coach Clements. Clements was a very small man, and I still remember him today. He started the foundation on which others have built upon for my journey here today. He inspired me from the very first day, I remember.

  I was on the junior varsity squad, never knew what football was. I went out with a friend of mine; we said that we’re going to go out for football. Had never played football, always played soccer up until my ninth year. That first day, I went out for the team. The next day, the coach says, “You’re on the varsity squad.” And I’m saying, “How did I make it onto the varsity squad after one day?” His answer was to me that he liked the way I hustled, he liked the way I moved around the field, and he liked my tenacity and toughness.

  So, I think that has gotten me here today. That’s from a long time ago. What my coach would always say was, “What you put into practice is what you get out of it.” And that’s what has gotten me here from that day on to today.

  He also would say, “You always practice and push for perfection.” And, I guess that’s the reason why I’m here today, because every time I went out to practice or whatever I did as far as my sports—whether it was track or football—I wanted to be perfect. And I think that has given me the strength in everything that I needed to get here today.

  Dan Marino

  Miami Dolphins Quarterback

  Class of 2005

  When he retired, Marino held the NFL records for passing yardage (61,361), completions (4,967), attempts (8,358), and touchdowns (420). He was voted to nine Pro Bowls.

  Presented by His Son, Daniel Marino

  I’ve always felt that I was truly blessed in so many ways. But, most importantly, in the way that no one could ask for better examples of people than my parents. There’s never been a situation that they didn’t know how to approach or how to act in. They’ve always treated people with so much compassion and are so grateful for everything in their lives. I think that all five of my brothers and sisters would agree that we were all so lucky to be raised by such wonderful people.

  My father has made a lot of smart decisions on the field but I believe his smartest decision he’s ever made was one he made off the field. He chose my mom. Together, they have shaped me and my family in such a meaningful and positive way. And, so rarely do you find parents so willing to give you everything in return only for their children’s happiness. My parents will belong in my and my siblings’ personal Hall of Fame always for that.

  I’m often asked the question, “Are you a football player?” or “Does your dad want you to play football or sports?” It may seem to many people that that would be appropriate, but my father has always supported me in whatever I chose to do. Whether I was performing, whether Joey was golfing, whether Allie was horse riding, whether Michael was deejaying, and, I’m sure, he’ll support Niki and Lia in whatever passion they choose to pursue.

  My father’s friends have always said to me repeatedly how proud he is of his children. They tell me that he can’t seem to stop talking about us. My father only asks us to work hard at what we do. It seems odd to me that such a modest request can make my father so happy. But our passion for something seems to make him as eager and as happy as if he was waiting to go on the field. For this, me and my siblings are all so very fortunate.

  Perhaps this can shed some light on the man off the field—the family man who has always been a loving father. My father played quarterbac
k for the Miami Dolphins from the years 1983 to 1999. I don’t claim to be the biggest football fan in my household. Aside from my dad, my brothers Joey and Michael have that honor. Growing up watching my dad was difficult with a preteen attention span and even tougher with a preschool attention span. However, from that time I will never forget the scars on my arms from my mom’s fingernails when she squeezed them for dear life watching my dad on the field. But now that I’m older I can appreciate more what my father did.

  And I sometimes watch my father’s old games on tape and I can’t put into words the experience of watching your father, when he was young, win a game: when he yells, when he skips off the field, hugs his teammates and his coach, a look of competitive accomplishment on his face. That look always made him stand out for me a little on the field. I don’t think my father was ever out of the game. If you watch him from the sideline, he watches every play with intensity. And if the Dolphins had a bad play, the cameras would have to cut away for the family audiences.

  In the same way that my grandfather is my father’s hero, my father has always been my hero, and in the same way, I hope my children will look up to me one day. But it would be selfish of me to say that I’m the only one who looks upon my father as a hero. My father has given so much to the community he lives in. The time he has spent with the sick and terminally ill children; the Dan Marino Children’s Hospital, founded for children with neurological disorders; the Dan Marino Foundation that has worked with children’s charities in South Florida have, I’m sure, all earned him the status of hero with many other people. Both my parents have given so much time to helping the community in which they live. And my father’s hand reaches far beyond the community he lives in as well.

  My father was always committed to his team and his teammates. Even if my father scored four touchdowns and failed to win, it was always, to him, a lost game. The Miami Dolphins were and still are my dad’s team. More than that, they are, in a way, his extended family. My father’s seventeen years were spent with one franchise, the franchise he loved. And that seems to be so rare in professional sports today, I thought it was worth mentioning.

  I always felt that talent if nothing else is something that you don’t have control over. My father was very lucky in that department. But it’s what you do with your talent that counts. My father, when he played, worked his hardest and always played to the best of his abilities. I think that’s all a coach could ask of a player and, furthermore, all you could ask of a person.

  When I started writing this speech, I realized that you have to start thinking very hard about how you feel about your father. And I realized how completely unselfish my father’s life has been. His induction into the Hall of Fame is recognition of his abilities and career on the field. But, I personally feel, it is also in recognition of father’s life in many ways—a life that was never about him but about his team, his fans, his community, his friends, and his family.

  Dan Marino

  As a young man, God blessed me with a special talent to throw a football and I was very fortunate to grow up in an environment like the city of Pittsburgh in the neighborhood of Oakland, an area that was full of football tradition. My dream started right there on Parkview Avenue in Oakland and it stayed there for twenty-one years.

  There’s not many players who can say they went to grade school, high school, college all in the same neighborhood, all within a short walk from the home that I grew up in. It was literally a ten-minute walk from my home to the fifty-yard line of old Pitt Stadium. I lived right across the street from a church when I was a kid and I still have vivid memories of playing football for St. Regis.

  On the morning of games, going to church in full dress uniform, we’d have cleats, pads, helmets, everything. We were wearing everything and the coaches would lead us in prayer. We would say Hail Marys and Our Fathers in praying for victory and then we’d march down the street, cheerleaders, band playing, to play our game. And it didn’t get much better than that. And you know what? We never lost. I’d like to think that God was on my side, but then again it was a Catholic Church League and He was on everybody’s side.

  Football is the ultimate team game and, as you know, no one gets to the Hall of Fame alone. And right from the start my teammates helped me.

  I remember my first start going back to 1983. It was against Buffalo and I was a rookie. To be honest, I was a little nervous. And as I stood on the sidelines, I remember a veteran, a veteran safety, Lyle Blackwood, coming up to me. He came up to me with a serious look and he shook my hand and he said, “Dan, good luck today. And I don’t want you to feel any pressure, but remember this one thing: If you play bad, we’ll lose.” Now that’s pressure on a rookie.

  To my mother and dad, we’ve come a long way from Parkview Avenue. Mom and Dad, I still can’t figure out why they called it Parkview Avenue because there wasn’t a park and there wasn’t any view. But I can tell you that a son couldn’t ask for better parents. And, Mom, thank you for your dedication to Cindi, Debbie, and me. We were lucky we got to be raised in such a healthy and loving environment. You’re the best and I love you.

  My dad, you’re my hero. Dad, you’re my role model, you’re the best coach I’ve ever had. You taught me how to throw a football, you taught me about hard work and how to be positive. I’ll always remember the times that we’d just sit and talk about football and about life. You taught me how to treat people the way you want to be treated. You would always say that you didn’t deserve anything in life; you only deserve what you earn. My only hope is that Claire and I could pass on those important values to our children.

  My dad would always tell me that no one does it better. Well, let me say that no one is better than you.

  Looking back on my career I’ve accomplished many things. But what I cherish more than any record that I hold, any fourth-quarter comeback, any win that I was involved in, what I cherish more are the relationships that I’ve made, the people I’ve worked with, the teammates I’ve lined up beside, the opponents that I’ve competed against. The friends and family, that’s what I cherish most.

  My son and I talked about what I was going to talk about in my speech and we went back and forth. He said, “Dad, you need to tell everyone what you miss most about the game.” To tell you all what I miss most is for seventeen years, running out of the tunnel knowing I was the starting quarterback for the Miami Dolphins, and playing in front of the greatest fans in the world. That’s what I miss most.

  Rayfield Wright

  Dallas Cowboys Offensive Tackle

  Class of 2006

  Wright played in six NFC championship games and five Super Bowls. He was named to the NFL’s All-Decade Team of the 1970s.

  Presented by Fort Valley State Coach Stan Lomax

  Rayfield’s belief is where we are born, where we grow up, must never determine how high we rise. Could it be that professional football games are played primarily on Sunday afternoons for reasons other than the convenience of scheduling, of viewer preference? Today I have the temerity to believe there is a spiritual quality about football. The rules of the game suggest it. The history of the game supports it. Lombardi, Brown, Landry all would have divested themselves were that not so.

  Someone once said, “I would rather see a sermon than hear one any day.” For more than twelve years, Rayfield Wright, with displays of commitment and determination, delivered his message clearly and emphatically each Sunday afternoon. Primarily he had two admonitions.

  One, Thou shalt not touch Roger Staubach. The second was, Thou must not impede the forward progress of Calvin Hill or Tony Dorsett.

  Rayfield Wright

  I learned a poem in the eighth grade entitled “The Road Not Taken.” It’s about two roads. One was well traveled, the other was grassy and wanted wear. Through this poem, I discovered that life would give me choices. It was recognizing those choices that proved to be the greatest challenge.

  Looking back, my instinct was to always take the easy road. But
the easy road never came my way. You see, I grew up in Griffin, Georgia. My mother and my grandmother raised me, my brothers, and my sister. We didn’t have much money or any luxuries to speak of. Times were tough, and I recognized at an early age the struggles that we faced.

  I remember getting on my knees when I was ten years old beside my grandmother, and I simply asked God something. I asked him if He would just give me the ability that I could do something, that I could help my mother and my grandmother, and I could help other people. My grandmother taught me the power of prayer and what that prayer meant to me. And it’s still in front of me today….

  My career started as a tight end. Don Meredith was our quarterback at the time. Recently I asked Don. I said, “Don, you remember throwing me a touchdown pass against the Eagles?” He laughed and said, “Rayfield, I wasn’t throwing the ball to you. You was just so tall, you got in the way.”

  Two years later, Coach Landry called me into his office and said, “Rayfield, I’m going to move you to offensive tackle.” I looked at him and I said, “Coach, I never played that position before in my life.” He said, “I know, but you’re quick, you learn fast. Besides, we got a young quarterback coming to the team this year, and his name was Roger Staubach, and he don’t stay in the pocket. He runs around a lot, and he needs a little bit more protection.” But I was never one to question the authorities of elders. Coach Landry, I believed in his decision, and that was good enough for me….

  And to my mother, Mrs. Opel Wright, from the day I was born, you watched me take the road less traveled. Mom, you are my rose garden, you watered each day with your love, with your faith, and with your prayers. Your roots are deeply instilled in me, and your soul is so beautiful, in spite of all the painful thorns that life has put in your way.