Gary Smith: ENTER A MAN. EVEN AT 60,in pajamas, his body’s hard and ready, a fist. He lies down on his bed, and soon he’s in it again, the dream in which the football’s in his right arm and the enemy’s coming at him. He can never make out uniforms or colors, so he can never be sure if they’re Chiefs, and he’s about to bounce outside and beat two of them around the corner, then hurdle the third and outsprint the rest, the way he did on that 50-yard screen pass against them 30 years ago … or they’re Raiders, and he’s about to tunnel through and shrug off the five who have him surrounded, as he did on that 54-yard bolt … or they’re even Kansas Jayhawks, and he’s about to carve ’em up for five touchdowns, leaving their coach—who’d traveled to Syracuse with Gale Sayers—murmuring, “That was the greatest performance by any back I’ve ever seen.”
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