Steve Largent
My story, like so many others, is a story of mentors—people who challenged me when I questioned myself, people who believed in me against all the evidence.
My mother, who never missed a game or never missed a practice. In fact, she talked me out of quitting football when I was a sophomore in high school.
My grandfather, who stepped into the gap when my folks were divorced.
My coaches taught me the game of football and the meaning of leadership. When I close my eyes, I can still hear their voices, hear their whistles. They still shape the character of my life.
I was one of those players, as you know, who was labeled early as too small and too slow. I came to depend on people who saw me actually as bigger and faster than I really was. We all need people who believe in us. They expand the boundaries we place on our own lives. In my case, their influence did more than improve my performance in this great game. It filled a hollowness in my own life I could not explain or even understand.
When a child grows up today without a father there is an empty place where someone must stand providing an example of character and confidence. If no one takes that place, a child can live in a shadow all their lives. Their emptiness is often filled with despair, by anger, or even violence.
This commonplace tragedy has become the central problem of our society. It has become an epidemic of secret suffering. But if someone takes that place, a child can escape the shadows. He can find confidence, courage, and conscience. And perhaps even find his way to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.
I have extraordinary respect for the men and women who accept that responsibility and play that role in young lives today. They leave an influence more lasting than any law. The really heroic people are not those who break records. The really heroic people are the ones who can mend a broken spirit. My accomplishment today is a tribute to those people in my life who were willing to do that for me.
Art Donovan
Baltimore Colts, New York Yanks, and
Dallas Texans Defensive Tackle
Class of 1968
A vital part of Baltimore’s climb to powerhouse status in the 1950s, Donovan was selected to five Pro Bowls.
If I say it’s not a pleasure to be here, I’d only be lying. I could go on and thank everybody from the time I started playing football back in grammar school at Mount St. Michaels, but I’d only miss a lot of people. But there are two people here this afternoon that I’d really like to thank.
A fella named Don Kellett, who was really instrumental in me staying in professional football. When I wanted to go home and join the New York City Police Department, he talked me out of it.
There’s another fella here who I hit more, I guess, than anybody I’ve ever hit or anybody will hit in their life. A fella who played opposite of me for nine years, and he and I, in a period of nine years, must have hit each other I’d say one hundred thousand times. A fella that is here today to honor me, I think one of the finest offensive guards that ever played professional football, Alex Sandusky.
Jim Brown
Cleveland Browns Fullback
Class of 1971
After being voted to nine consecutive Pro Bowls and leading the NFL in rushing in eight years, Brown retired with 12,312 rushing yards and 756 points.
Presented by Long Island Attorney Ken Molloy
I’m going to reveal to you today a love story. It’s a love story that started way back in a little hamlet of Manhasset, New York, on Long Island, which sits among the bays of the Long Island Sound; where the wonderful people of Manhasset fell in love with a young boy at the age of thirteen, Jimmy Brown.
And I’m tickled to know that his children are here. There’s Kevin, James, and Kim, and I go back and remember Jimmy at about the same age and his intensity as a young man, his will to win, to succeed, to do whatever was necessary to achieve his goals. And at that young age, his goal was to be the best professional football player in the United States.
He has achieved that pinnacle and I think it important and worthy to note here today, some of the people in little Manhasset who helped Jimmy…. You can go down the names, and it’s a cross-section of America all the way, and the product of that cross-section of America is the man that we’ve come to honor today. And I would like, if you will indulge me, to point out two lessons.
It has been said by the philosophers that the world can learn a lesson from every man, and I think there are two lessons that should be learned from the life of Jimmy Brown. One is that all of you people who are in what they call “the power structure” today should look around you. There are young, talented, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed kids who are ready and willing to rise to the heights, and they can do it if you’ll look and give them the opportunity.
To you young people is the second lesson, and that is, as Jim has gone through life, he has been a keen observer of society around him and in honesty—and he’s an honest person—he found some things he could criticize, some things he could object to. And he did this, but he did it with this honesty and what made it honest and valid was the fact that whenever he criticized, it was based upon the fact that his contribution always exceeded his protests, and I think this is the key to young people.
Jim Brown
My mother is here today and she had a tough struggle when I was a little boy. She had to take care of me all by herself and I never tell her that, so I thought I’d take this time to say thank you because you worked very hard.
And there are a few men here representing the community of Manhasset, Long Island. Now regardless of what you’ve heard about me, me being outspoken, saying what I want to say, doing things I wanted to do, you probably never heard the great story about the people in Manhasset.
Today we have Kenny Molloy, who I chose to present me here today because Kenny was the leader of that community. But we also have the superintendent of Manhasset schools, Dr. Raymond Collins, who’s somewhere out there, and you won’t know him, but I know him very well because he was instrumental in my early development. He came to Syracuse and he kept me in school. He did all the things that a superintendent wouldn’t do to keep a young man on the right track.
And finally, there’s Ed Walsh, who was my high school coach. And if I was a highly religious man, I would think that this man would be a saint because I couldn’t imagine him doing anything wrong. And I love him as I love the rest of the people in the community of Manhasset. They are here today and most of all, I want to publicly give them my thanks because they came into my life at a time where I could have gone in many, many directions.
So to all of you, I hope you can remember that. Remember that the arrogant and bad Jim Brown can be humble when he is given true love and when he is able to talk about people that he truly respects.
Frank Gifford
New York Giants Halfback
Class of 1977
Gifford starred on both offense and defense, playing in seven Pro Bowls. In 1956, he was the NFL Player of the Year.
Presented by Giants Owner Wellington Mara
For me, for twenty-five years, Frank Gifford has personified the son every father dreams of, the player every coach dreams of, the father any son would cherish. I like the man.
For many of us, he is the author of a book called Gifford on Courage, a subject he knows a great deal about. All of us know him now as he’s the sports telecaster who insists on letting the event tell the story. In speaking of Frank Gifford in any of these facets of his life, it is necessary to speak in terms of humility, versatility, and excellence. These three characteristics are woven closely together in the pattern of Frank’s life.
In any memory of Frank Gifford’s, there is one picture that is always present—unwanted and starved—but always there. It is a Frank Gifford, very still, at a field in Yankees Stadium [after Eagles Hall-of-Fame linebacker Chuck Bednarik hit him and stood over him in November 1960]. You thought he might die—you knew he would never play again. But he didn’t die, and he played
again, and how he played.
When he announced his retirement in March of 1965, my brother, Jack, who was then president of the Giants, said Frank Gifford was one of the greatest players who ever played for the Giants. He had a dignity, tone, and class during our entire operation. Even among stars he was a standout.
Frank Gifford
All five of us—and I think you will have to agree it is quite a unique class coming in—have been pondering what we might say when we came to this moment. Forrest Gregg and I were talking about it a minute ago, and Gale Sayers and I were sitting back in the quiet solitude of a room, and I am sure we each have our own thoughts of why we are here and how we got here. I think we all agree on one thing because I think I know all of these men well enough to know that we are deeply appreciative of the God-given physical ability. But it doesn’t start there and it doesn’t end there.
All of us are aware as we go through life there are people who have incredible influence on us emotionally and physically. You run a great risk at a time like this—perhaps the greatest moment of my athletic life standing here—you run a great risk of overlooking so many people, but there are a few in my life that played such an important role.
I don’t want to use this as a philosophical forum because it is not meant to be that. But I have a couple of deep feelings about the game of football and many of those feelings have been attacked. The game of football over the years has been attacked as so many other great institutions of our country have been attacked. The professional football, college football, street football, it offers a great deal to young people. There are five of us up here today to prove just that. There are over ninety more enshrined in the Hall of Fame that offer you something to strive for.
You don’t always get there, but sometimes when you strive hard enough, what we do reach is better than the goal you set. I believe in our society today, and, unfortunately, that too is changing. When you go out on the football field and you are playing the game as best as you can, you don’t look around and say, “That man is black,” or “that man is white.” You just care that it gets done and it gets done the right way. Football in so many ways has so many things to offer a troubled society.
Joe Namath
New York Jets and Los Angeles Rams Quarterback
Class of 1985
The first quarterback to pass for more than four thousand yards in a season, in 1967, Namath guaranteed and delivered victory over the Colts in Super Bowl III.
Presented by Beaver Falls (Pennsylvania) High School Football Coach Larry Bruno
If I had to choose one word to describe the fabulous career of Joe Namath, that word would be confidence.
When Joe played football for Beaver Falls High School, the entire football team believed whatever play Joe called would work. They would make it work because they knew Joe had confidence in them.
A few years later, when Joe was playing professional football for the New York Jets and the Jets were playing in Super Bowl III, Joe made the statement, “I guarantee we will beat the Colts.” This was not a cocky or brash statement. The Jets were a seventeen-point underdog, but again when Joe said we could win, his teammates believed they could win, just like in high school. The Jets did win that Super Bowl and pulled off one of the greatest upsets in modern football history.
Incidentally, the quarterback of the Colts that day was Johnny Unitas, Joe’s idol in high school. Joe even wore number 19 in high school, and that jersey will be included in the Hall of Fame.
If Joe continues to have the same kind of confidence in his new field of entertainment, maybe someday we will be watching the Academy Awards program and the emcee will say, “The envelope please, and the winner is, ladies and gentlemen, Joe Namath.”
Joe Namath
When a boy is in school, age sixteen or seventeen, there are a lot of directions he may go. I was headed in some directions that could have been the wrong directions. Well, my high school coach, Larry Bruno, helped me a heck of a lot, steered me right.
He told me one day in a meeting, told our whole team, he said, “Fellows, if you don’t dream about it, it will never happen. But you can’t just dream about it, you have to go out and make it happen. You have to work hard.”
With that in mind, I dreamt of a high school championship and we won it. We went out and worked for it and got it. At the University of Alabama, where I was lucky to go to school and find a new family, we won the national championship because we were led by Coach Paul “Bear” Bryant. He worked us hard and our goals were high.
Before I left Alabama, Coach Paul “Bear” Bryant gave me this advice: “Look, Joe, you’re getting ready to go into pro football. Do you know what kind of people you are going to be working with?” And I said, “No, sir,” and he said: “You sure better consider this because it is mighty important. The kind of people you are around, and the kind of people you are working with in this life is mighty important. Take that into consideration.”
I was able to go to the New York Jets to play for another great coach. Coach Weeb Ewbank. I’ll tell you what, a ballplayer could not have been luckier. Without Coach Ewbank’s guidance, I could have fallen flat on my face. But Weeb had a way of handling people, a good way of handling people, both on and off the playing field.
I must have played for four or five other head coaches after Weeb, and I believe Weeb got smarter and smarter with every head coach I played for. I didn’t realize how sharp Weeb was until after he retired. Weeb, I want to thank you personally, bud; you kept me together when times were rough. You picked me up and gave me the encouragement I needed to succeed. You gave me the good football sense to get out there and keep playing, and without your help I wouldn’t be here.
I get goose bumps when I walk through the Hall of Fame. I see guys in there that I have admired my entire life, at least when I was old enough to start understanding football.
I never dreamt of being in the Professional Football Hall of Fame, and I’m thankful to many people for this great honor.
Dwight Stephenson
Miami Dolphins Center
Class of 1998
Recognized as the premier center of his time, Stephenson was selected to five straight Pro Bowls.
Presented by Colts and Dolphins Coach Don Shula
Dwight was one of the hardest workers that I ever coached. He worked out every day in the weight room as if his job were at stake. And he treated every practice session as though he was getting ready to play in the Super Bowl. I found that out early in our first scrimmage after drafting Dwight.
His teammate at Alabama, Don McNeal, was playing the left corner for us on defense and we ran a screen pass. And on this screen pass, McNeal came up to contain the play, and Dwight pulled along the line of scrimmage and he took McNeal on in the flat and knocked him up into the stands and then just stood there and grinned. And that was his teammate.
And I knew what was going to happen to opposing players during Dwight’s career.
Dwight Stephenson
I went to the University of Alabama and that’s where I had the opportunity to play for the legendary Paul “Bear” Bryant, which at that time was probably the best thing that could have happened for me.
He was a person that was interested in making good people. He didn’t want just good football players, but he wanted us to be good people. He would take us out there on the football field and work us, and boy, it didn’t seem like he really cared about us. And then he’d walk through the dining room and he’d come up and say, “Dwight, how’s your momma doing? Is she still working?” He really showed an interest in football players.
Then I had the opportunity to go to Miami and play for the legendary coach Don Shula. When I went down to Miami, I didn’t expect a whole lot out of myself, but I didn’t know what would happen. But when you get around Coach Shula, he is like an extension of the University of Alabama. The same things we practiced there, Coach Bryant taught us. And he gave me the opportunity to play there and play professional
football for the Dolphins. Coach Shula, I really appreciate you.
Tom Landry
Dallas Cowboys Coach
Class of 1990
An innovator on offense and defense, Landry compiled a 270-178–6 record, with twenty consecutive winning seasons.
Presented by Cowboys Quarterback Roger Staubach
Those of you who have watched Coach Landry on the sidelines all those years might have formed an impression of him as impassive or unemotional. The media played that up quite a bit. But the truth is that despite the cool outward appearance, Tom Landry is one of the most sensitive, caring individuals God ever put on this earth. And in a sport as tough as football can be, Tom Landry is as tough as he can be.
Tom’s sincere desire to win was right on top of his list, but he also cared for the individual and for the team, and that is what made him a winner. He agonized over tough decisions. You will find that former players believe that Coach Landry made them better individuals. The high tribute we can offer is genuine respect. Tom Landry certainly earned that from the athletes he influenced in his three decades of coaching. He also has earned it off the field in a lifetime of giving and caring.
So there are contrasts that I have tried to put together—the spiritual side of Tom Landry, conservative yet innovative, quiet but generous in giving. He might appear distant, but he is always warm, compassionate, and understanding. Which is the real Tom Landry? They all are. He is actually what he appears to be. There is no pretense in his style, no false images to maintain. His genuine nature and goodwill make him stand out as the individual unique in his time. Tom Landry defines the word class.
In one of my weaker moments, I called Tom, “the man in the funny hat.” Speaking for football fans across the country, we miss that image on Sunday afternoons. But we are thankful for the memories he has given us, for the grace and dignity he brought to our sport. He has touched all of us in a way few could.
The Class of Football Page 24
