Family shared center stage with football Saturday in ways rarely seen on the steps of pro football’s Hall of Fame.
Kim Singletary became the first wife to present her husband when she introduced Mike Singletary at Saturday’s induction ceremonies. Kim said she didn’t know much more about Singletary the football player than did the millions of fans mesmerized by the wild wide-open eyes of the former Bears middle linebacker.
“But it’s only fitting that we honor the character of this football player, because that truly belongs in a Hall of Fame,” she said.
Michael Munoz, age 17 and bigger than his 6-foot-6-inch, 280-pound dad, presented Anthony Munoz not as the great offensive tackle of the Cincinnati Bengals but as the father who took the time to watch and help him and younger sister Michelle play sports.
“Thanks for always being there,” Michael said. “You taught me how to be tough and still be tender. You are a real man.”
Pam Krause, who has used a wheelchair since an auto accident in 1995, provided the most poignant moment of the ceremony when she was helped to her feet for the presentation of her husband Paul, former Minnesota Vikings free safety.
Krause, the NFL’s all-time interception leader, had grown weary and confused about his unusually long wait to be elected to the Hall. Two years ago, he was a finalist and didn’t get the required votes. But his wife encouraged him, telling him this was his year because God wanted her to be present. She had been in a coma for nearly six months with a brain-stem injury, and doctors didn’t expect her to live.
“It happened just the way you said it would,” said Krause, struggling to keep his composure on the podium.
“He has been the most dedicated, supportive and positive husband and father I have ever known,” said presenter Jerry Burns, Krause’s former coach at Iowa and former assistant with the Vikings.
Kim Singletary introduced the seven Singletary children, and said Mike will consider himself a success “only when each of the children, after they’re grown, will look back on their relationship with Mike and name him to the fathers’ Hall of Fame.”
Singletary recalled the toughest year of his life, when at 12 his parents had divorced and his mother, Rudell, told him: “Son, I want you to know there is greatness in you.”
She asked him to become the man of the house. Singletary listened.
“I went to my room and I wrote down my goals–to somehow get a scholarship to college, be an All-American in college, get my degree, go to the NFL and buy my mom a house and take care of her for the rest of my life,” Singletary said.
Singletary’s father, Charles, accompanied the family to Saturday’s ceremony.
“I want to thank my dad,” Singletary said. “It took me a long time to realize how much he gave me. It took me a long time to grow up and mature and realize we make mistakes. I’m so thankful for his work ethic, for the many people he has helped, and for his heart.”
Explaining his famous eyes-wide-open facial expression of his playing days, Singletary said: “The last thing on my mind was to intimidate. All I wanted to do was see the whole field. I was so excited about the opportunity to play the game of football, I wanted to give back everything I had.
“That was just sheer excitement and the privilege of playing in the NFL.”
Most inductees kept their composure, but Tommy McDonald made no attempt to hide his emotions. In the most unusual acceptance speech, the 64-year-old former Philadelphia Eagles receiver brought out a boom box and danced to “Stayin’ Alive,” high-fived and belly-bumped his fellow inductees, and terrified Hall of Fame officials by tossing his newly sculpted bust into the air.
“I’m supposed to have good hands,” McDonald screamed. “I’m in the Hall of Fame!”
“As a coach, I can see why he played for five different teams,” Burns said.
McDonald’s histrionics notwithstanding as the smallest (5-9, 172) and the happiest player in the Hall, it was the most humble class of inductees many observers could remember, and their short, heartfelt speeches proved it.
Sensing center Dwight Stephenson’s reticence, his coach for the Miami Dolphins and presenter, Don Shula, spent as much time introducing him as Stephenson talked himself.
“He always wanted to be the center, but never the center of attention,” Shula said. “I have not seen a better football player on the field or a more humble person off the field.
Coming from the winningest coach in NFL history, that was the highest praise of the day.
