Something to bring tears to the eyes of The Faithful on Superbowl Sunday:
Montana, Lott share glory with
DeBartolo
BY ANN KILLION
Mercury News Staff Columnist
ATLANTA
THEY STOOD in front of the cameras, arms wrapped around each
other, linked for all time. Joe Montana, Ronnie Lott and the man who
brought them together, Eddie DeBartolo.
It has been nine years since they were last together as a team -- dedicated
players and the owner they adore. And the more time passes, the greater
their accomplishments become, the stronger the realization of just how
special their era was.
``We spend a lot of time in our lives not enjoying moments,' Lott said.
``It's amazing how much we didn't get to enjoy. But this is a moment to
enjoy.'
This moment was the election of Montana and Lott into the Pro Football
Hall of Fame. The respective heart and soul, the cool and the fire, the two
halves that made the 49ers whole, were on the ballot together. Dear
friends. Dedicated teammates.
And because of the fortunate timing of being voted in together, Saturday
was a time of celebration and emotion.
DeBartolo, banished from the 49ers and living in Tampa, Fla., but never
exiled from his loyal players, was asked to come.
``I talked to Joe on the phone last week,' Lott said. ``He said, `Are you
nervous?' I said, `Yeah, I'm nervous.' And then we said, `Let's call Mr.
D.' It's funny how we wanted to run to our father.'
The father almost didn't make it. A treacherous ice storm roared through
the Southeast on Friday, making the short flight from Tampa impossible.
But this was not a moment DeBartolo would miss. He hired a car and he
and his wife, Candy, made it as far as Macon, Ga., on Friday night. They
made the final leg of the drive Saturday morning, their car slipping and
sliding on the road.
``It was frightening,' Candy DeBartolo said. ``But this was a very
emotional day for Eddie.'
Before the announcement, the DeBartolos, Ronnie and Karen Lott and Joe
and Jennifer Montana talked and had pictures taken in a back room. It
was relaxed and jovial -- good friends getting together. The Montanas and
Lotts are close friends; the wives are business partners. Montana
bestowed on Lott the ultimate honor: his youngest son, Nicholas, is Lott's
godson.
``And he's just like Ronnie,' Montana said. ``He gives the ball to his big
brother just so he can hit him, just to have contact.'
Karen Lott said, ``The bond between us will always be there. But
something like this makes it indelible.'
But there was also an air of nervousness in the room. Montana said he
hadn't slept well for two nights, waking Jennifer early Saturday morning
and making coffee in the hotel room. Lott was even more nervous.
``You know Ronnie,' Karen said. ``He never takes anything for granted.'
Before the announcement, the men were escorted to a kitchen hallway to
wait.
``I didn't know what we were going to do back there if they didn't call
our names,' Montana said. ``Come out with a bus tray?'
Of course, they called their names. The 38-member media panel voted
them both in on their first year of eligibility. How could they not? They
were two of the greats of the modern era, arguably the two best ever at
their respective positions.
As kids, neither one dreamed much about the Hall of Fame. These are
athletes, interested in things they can control.
``This wasn't something I could actually physically do,' Montana said.
``But I knew about the Hall of Fame. I used to spend a lot of weekends at
my Uncle Bud's in Canton.'
Lott said it was an honor to be linked with the great names of the past. At
an NFL event, the late former Green Bay linebacker Ray Nitschke paid
him the ultimate compliment, telling Lott, ``You could have played with
me.' And Lott's son Isaiah has Deion Sanders' jersey hanging from his
wall. It bears the inscription, ``Ronnie, you made it happen for me.'
``You understand who paved the way for you and that you paved the way
for others,' Lott said.
During Saturday's news conference, the two men showed their
complementary personalities. Montana, the joker who always made his
teammates feel at ease, was cool and witty.
``As a kid, I accomplished a lot in my back yard,' he said. ``I'd won a lot
of Super Bowls by the time I was 9.'
About Bill Walsh's system, he said: ``I fit into that system. I tried my
hardest not to let anyone know how easy it was.'
Lott was more emotional. He choked up when he was asked about the
sacrifice he made when he chose to have the tip of his left pinkie cut off
in order to play in the playoffs. He wasn't crying for his own pain; he was
remembering his teammate's ordeal.
``I'm thinking of when Joe walked down the hall from his back surgery,'
Lott said, referring to 1986, when Montana's career was thought to be
over. ``The commitment we had to each other to play. We had a lot of
warriors.'
Overseeing it all was DeBartolo, who wiped tears from his cheeks as his
former players spoke. DeBartolo, his legacy tainted by pleading guilty to a
felony (failing to report a felony in a Louisiana gambling case), might
never get to the Hall of Fame himself. But he will present Montana into
Canton on July 29. Lott said he hasn't decided whom he wants to present
him, but he, too, is considering giving DeBartolo the ultimate honor.
``He wanted perfection, he drove us and when the team needed a kick, if
Ronnie didn't give it, then it was Mr. D.,' Montana said. ``We became a
family. And he made it possible.'
They first came together in 1981. Montana was there, waiting for his
defensive counterpart to appear, standing on the cusp of greatness. Lott
arrived with dynamic, vocal leadership. Walsh created the system, but
brash, young DeBartolo created the environment in which it could thrive.
In that first season, they won a Super Bowl.
The end came less dramatically, in a prolonged, sad process. Montana
was knocked out of the 1990 NFC championship game, the last time he
and Lott would play together. Lott was forced from the team in 1991,
when the 49ers made him a Plan B free agent. Montana wandered the
halls and training room for two years before one final appearance in 1992,
on a rainy Monday night against Detroit. He was traded in the off-season.
In late 1997, DeBartolo was removed from active ownership.
``For a period of time, it was Camelot,' said Walsh.
Walsh was speaking by phone from the Bay Area, where the 49ers
organization awaits its fate, no longer a Super Bowl team, desperate for a
new era to begin.
The 49ers' past was here in Atlanta, linked arm in arm, smiling one more
time for the cameras.
``It was,' Montana said, ``a special run we had.' |
