Super Bowl Open Thread: Quiet Resolve (w/Poll)

On the great Washington Redskins teams of the first Joe Gibbs era, there were many members of the organization who endeared themselves to Redskins fans.

One had to admire the athleticism of quarterback Joe Theismann; the ferocity of running back John Riggins and defensive end Dexter Manley; the sheer brilliance of cornerback Darrell Green; the workmanlike, blue collar ethic of the Hogs (Joe Jacoby, Russ Grimm, Jeff Bostic, Mark May, and George Starke) and the optimism of their offensive line coach, Joe Bugel; the fearlessness of wide receiver Gary Clark; the uncanny ability of General Manager Bobby Beathard to find diamonds in the rough with late-round draft picks; the flamboyance of owner Jack Kent Cooke; and the steady leadership and innovation of head coach Joe Gibbs.

We marveled at the ability of all these people who made us fans and our city proud. But there was one player we all loved and rooted for during every game: wide receiver Art Monk.

I remember the time in 1980 when Monk was a first round draft pick out of Syracuse University, Jim Brown's alma mater, where he primarily played running back.  His father was a first cousin of jazz great, Thelonious Monk.  A shy, quiet person, Monk made an immediate impact with the Redskins.  With wide receiver Charley Taylor having retired in 1977, we knew then that our team had found a worthy successor. Never one to seek the limelight, Monk went on to have of the greatest careers at his position in pro football.

Last night, after years of puzzlement and bewilderment as to why he'd been ignored all these years, the National Football League finally named Monk as an inductee to professional football's Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.

It was an honor a long time coming and truly well-deserved.

Why did Monk have to wait all these years to have others recognize his brilliance?  As Washington Post sports columnist Mike Wise points out in today's paper

He Quietly Got It Done

They used to play tackle football in White Plains, N.Y., in the 1960s.  "In the streets," Art Monk said.  "We were kids. We didn't even think about it.  Then it was on to Pop Warner, high school, Syracuse.  Then the NFL."

Then Canton.

Finally.

After nearly a decade of solemnly wishing to hear his name called -- yet possessing too much dignity and grace to complain -- the greatest wide receiver in Washington Redskins history was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame yesterday.

Eight long years after he was first eligible to be enshrined.

Forty-odd years since a kid hoped beyond hope on the asphalt of a bedroom community 45 minutes from Manhattan.

"Never in my wildest dreams as a little boy did I ever imagine getting to this point," Monk said.  He spoke humbly in a half-full ballroom of Jurys Washington Hotel at Dupont Circle, where friends and family gradually filed in the next two hours -- as if a once-trailing candidate had somehow pulled out the New Hampshire primary.

 

Many years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Monk and his wife.  To an unknown fan, he was very gracious and accepted my compliments and gratitude with great dignity.  The same way he accepted yesterday's news

"I know it must be surprising that a man that doesn't talk much is at a loss for words," Monk said.  "But I am.  I'm at a loss for words."

On the fly, he thanked his supporters, which included a former teammate who championed his candidacy for years, Charles Mann, who set up the festivities and happily yelled, "Now Art, I got to hit you up for Hall of Fame tickets."

Monk smiled and nodded. He wasn't quite prepared for all this, but he improvised as best he could.  Which was apropos for the second cousin of jazz icon Thelonious Monk.

"He was my father's first cousin," Monk said. "I never got to meet him, though. He was always off, doing his thing."

For 14 reliable years in Washington, for three Super Bowls in the middle of the Redskins' halcyon years, the same can be said for Hall of Famer James Arthur Monk.

You see, in today's sports world, where the most outrageously blatant act of self-promotion frequently receives the headlines of the day, Monk was old-fashioned in that respect. He always deflected credit towards his teammates and coaches.  He was, as they often said of him, a quiet leader and respectful of his teammates.  

The team -- not individual statistics or personal glory -- is what motivated Art Monk.

As it should be.

ps: you can use this diary as Open Thread for the Patriots-Giants game.  Speculate all you'd like.  Good luck to fans of both teams.