Long time coming as Floyd Little reaches Hall

DENVER (AP)

For nearly three decades, the pats on the back were more like punches to the gut.

Floyd Little would be eating dinner at one of his favorite haunts in Seattle or Denver or Syracuse, N.Y., and a well-meaning fan would come up to his table for an autograph and tell him he should be in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Another reminder that he was a forgotten man in the eyes of the voters.

It happened once at an Italian restaurant while Jim Brown, John Mackey and Little, who starred for the woeful Denver Broncos teams of the late 1960s and early '70s, were back at Syracuse to retire the number they shared with the late Ernie Davis.

''I guess the same anguish came over my face when that subject came up again and when the guy left the table, Jim Brown said, 'Floyd, let it go. Anybody that played with you or watched you play knew that you were a Hall of Famer, my friend. You don't need a bunch of guys to validate that,''' Little recounted.

When the great Jim Brown says you were a great football player, isn't that affirmation enough?

''I let it go that night,'' Little said. ''I did let it go - to a degree.''

It was hard to forget about football immortality when super-fan Tommy Mackie kept stumping for him, kept telling him what an injustice it was that he had never even been nominated.

Mackie works for a marketing corporation in New Jersey, but his real job for seven years was getting Little the recognition he felt his career deserved.

In 2003, his wife, Emily, asked what he wanted for his 40th birthday.

''To meet my childhood hero,'' Mackie replied. ''No. 44.''

She made it happen, getting in touch with Floyd at his car dealership in Seattle and setting up the meeting. Little took them to lunch and then they went back to his office, where Mackie mentioned how outraged he was that Little was overlooked by the Hall of Fame committee since his retirement in 1975 as the seventh-leading rusher in NFL history.

And so began the quest.

Mackie contacted all the voters, sent them a booklet he put together listing 44 reasons Little should be in the Hall of Fame.

He gathered testimonials from 44 Hall of Famers touting Little's credentials, including 42 from players who played against him, plus endorsements from John Elway and Stan Jones, a lineman for the Chicago Bears whose career was coming to a close just as Little was becoming the only three-time All-America running back to play for the Orangemen.

''I just felt it was a shame the way Floyd got swept under the carpet to the point he was forgotten,'' said Mackie, who would co-author a book with Little.

Elway called him ''the greatest Bronco of us all,'' and John Mackey, his fellow Syracuse alum who later starred for the Baltimore Colts, wrote the Hall saying, ''If you can't find a place for Floyd Little, please take me out of the Hall of Fame and put him in.''

Like the words of Brown, these were occasional salves for all the torment Little shouldered through the years.

''It's hard to let it go when people keep introducing you - like a Frank Gifford or a Pete Rozelle - as a 'future Hall of Famer,' and you've always been called a 'future Hall of Famer,''' Little said. ''Well, how far in the future are they talking about?''

Then, last August, Little was shocked to get the call from Hall vice president Joe Horrigan.

''I knew he wasn't calling to tell me I was passed over again,'' Little said.

At 67, a month after retiring from the car business by shuttering the dealership he'd run for 32 years, Little was finally a Hall of Fame nominee, something he has started to suspect he'd never see in his lifetime.

''I was running out of guys who had seen me play,'' said Little, whose career in Denver spanned the years 1967-75, lean times in the former AFL franchise's history.

But his friend Mackie was worried. In half of the six years since the Hall went from one to two senior nominees, one of the two had been rejected when the full membership met on the eve of the Super Bowl. So, he continued his campaign, sending his book and a handwritten letter to each of the voters, touting how Little had averaged over 100 yards of all-purpose offense per game in an era where defense ruled the day.

In Fort Lauderdale, Fla., in February, Little was elected as the 256th member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

He'll be inducted Saturday, more than 35 years after his career came to a close.

''Floyd has made immeasurable contributions to our franchise and to the NFL, on and off the field, and he deservedly takes his place in Canton among the greatest ever to play this game,'' team owner Pat Bowlen said.

Little's career statistics aren't as overpowering as he was. He rushed for 6,323 yards and 43 touchdowns - numbers that pale in comparison to fellow inductee Emmitt Smith, who had three times as many yards and reached the end zone four times as often.

But Little's legacy went beyond numbers or the five Pro Bowls for which he was chosen. He earned the nickname ''The Franchise'' in Denver because it was his signing that was credited with keeping the team from bolting to another city and helped persuade voters to approve funds for Mile High Stadium, which has been replaced by Invesco Field.

''Even though his playing career with the Broncos took place before my time with the team, I am well aware of what Floyd means to this franchise, city, and league,'' Bowlen said. ''Aside from his stellar play on the field, he was instrumental in making the Broncos relevant in the NFL and strengthened the bond between this team and its fans.

''Floyd waited a long time for this honor, and I could not be happier for him.''

For at long last, Little can go out for dinner now and smile when somebody brings up the Hall of Fame.