CANTON, Ohio (AP) — The linemen led the way as they
always do, accepting their inductions into the Pro Football Hall of Fame
with an abundance of humility. Curtis Martin finished the evening by
supplying plenty of tears.
The last of the six players to have
their bronze busts unveiled Saturday night, Martin used the big stage to
recall his rough life, his mother’s pain and his life-long indifference
to the game that allowed him to become famous.
"I don’t necessarily have notes, so I’m going to just bare my soul," Martin
cautioned. "So bear with me."
His
moving story was the longest of the six and had the audience of 12,100
cheering supportively whenever one of the NFL’s greatest running backs
got choked up or lost for words. It was quite a way to end a three-hour
induction that celebrated some of the game’s best blockers and tacklers.
Linemen
Willie Roaf, Chris Doleman, Cortez Kennedy and Dermontti Dawson and
1950s cornerback Jack Butler were the first inducted, accepting their
honor with simple thanks and generally short stories.
All the way through, the evening had a strong Pittsburgh flavor.
Hundreds
of Steelers fans sat on the field and in the stands, waving yellow
"Terrible Towels" to celebrate the city’s starring role. Two of the new
Hall of Famers played for the Steelers — Butler and Dawson. Doleman and
Martin played for the University of Pittsburgh after growing up in
Pennsylvania.
When it was time for Martin, a former Jets star, to
finish the evening, Broadway Joe Namath couldn’t help but notice the
"J-E-T-S! J-E-T-S!" chants were getting overwhelmed.
"I hear a lot of big mouths from Pittsburgh out there," he told the crowd.
"And justifiably — yes, yes!"
Martin soon had them dabbing their eyes.
He
described growing up in a rough neighborhood in Pittsburgh, the son of
an alcoholic father who would beat and torture his mother by setting her
hair on fire or pressing burning cigarettes to her legs. His mother,
Rochella, wiped tears from her eyes as he shared his story, occasionally
pausing to collect himself.
"My greatest achievement in my life was healing my mother and nurturing my
mother," Martin said.
She
urged him to play football to stay out of trouble. Even when New
England coach Bill Parcells decided to draft him out of Pitt, Martin
wasn’t sure he wanted to play. His pastor told him he could use football
as a platform to do greater things.
"I played for a purpose bigger than the game because I knew that the love for
the game just wasn’t in my heart," Martin said.
He
followed Parcells to the Jets and finished his career and the
fourth-leading rusher in NFL history. Parcells became one of his biggest
influences, and Martin chose him for the introduction on Saturday.
"He
has tremendous compassion for his fellow man," Parcells said. "He is, I
think, the poster child for what the NFL is supposed to be. You come
into the league, maximize your abilities, you save your money, you make a
smooth transition into society and then you pass all those things on to
other people. That’s what this guy has done."
The night that belonged to those who didn’t have it easy.
Roaf
was inducted first and set the tone. Standing in front of the large
crowd in an unfamiliar role — getting attention for something good — he
acknowledged feeling out of place.
"You know, it’s an offensive
lineman," Roaf said. "I didn’t get singled out in front of a large
audience very often, and when I did, it was usually by a referee who was
singling me out by saying, ‘Holding No. 77.’
"That’s not going to happen today. And it wasn’t too often when I played."

Roaf
was one of the greatest players in Saints history, so good that he
regularly made the Pro Bowl even though New Orleans had only one winning
season in his nine years there. His induction gave the franchise
something to celebrate after an offseason clouded by its bounty scandal.
Saints
players sat in the last three rows of seats on the field, wearing black
t-shirts with Roaf’s No. 77 on the back. They’re in town to play
Arizona in the Hall of Fame preseason game on Sunday night.
Kennedy
has something in common with Roaf. Like the offensive tackle from New
Orleans, the defensive tackle from Seattle excelled on bad teams. It was
his sustained excellence — not his team’s success — that got him into
the hall.
Kennedy grew into the game’s top defensive tackle during
his 11 seasons with Seattle. Even though Seattle went 2-14 in 1992 and
Kennedy got double-teamed, he was so good that he was chosen the
league’s best defensive player.
"That’s bad when you go to the
game and the defensive coordinator says, ‘Guys, we’re not going to win
the game. Let’s don’t embarrass ourselves.’ You know we’re in for a long
year then," he said.
Dawson got the Steelers fans revved with his
induction speech honoring the town and the franchise. Dawson succeeded
Mike Webster as the Steelers’ center, then followed him into the Pro
Football Hall of Fame.
"Mike was a leader whether he wanted to
(be) or not because he led by example, and I tried to emulate everything
Mike did," Dawson said. "Mike had a profound impact on my life and even
today, I try to lead by example and be like Mike."
Dawson chose
high school football coach Steve Parker to present him. If not for
Parker, he might not have played the game. Dawson had a bad experience
playing the sport in middle school and quit.
Parker met him in a hallway of their high school during his junior year and made him
rethink.
"I
came across this person who I thought was a man," Parker said. "I said
to him, ‘Sir, may I help you?’ He said he goes to school here, and I
said, ‘Where have you been all my life?’"
Doleman also traces his
football roots to Pennsylvania, where he grew up and went to college. He
recalled that his father had one rule: Finish what you start.
"Thank
you for teaching me the importance of finishing what you started,"
Doleman said. "And if it’s any indication today, I finished the game I
signed up for."
Butler, inducted second, took the most unexpected
path to the hall. He didn’t play football in high school, picked the
game in college at St. Bonaventure and entered the NFL as an undrafted
player in 1951, just another player filling out the Steelers roster.
Butler, now 84, thanked his family and friends for being in Canton for his
long-awaited moment.
"Heck, I’m thankful I’m here," he said. "I thank you all."
Copyright 2012 The Associated Press.