REMEMBERING CURTIS MARTIN

David Narushev, NFL Draft Bible

He never had the breakaway speed of Gale Sayers or the blunt force impact of Earl Campbell. He could never cut and move in ways that defied physics like Barry Sanders. His runs never made the highlight reels, and his low key personality ensured that lesser backs would get more of the spotlight. Curtis Martin quietly stepped away from football without the fanfare that one would expect from the NFL’s 4th all time leading rusher.

Martin is perhaps the only legendary who wasn’t born with any obvious god given talents for the position. He is entirely self-made; his is a Hall of Fame career built on the pillars of persistence, hard work, and sacrifice. As cliché as that may sound, it’s not common to see somebody dominate for so long at such a grueling profession while maintaining such a consistent level of excellence.

Martin was a textbook runner, shoulders square and straight ahead at all times. There was nothing fancy about his approach, he would hit the holes with no apprehension and willingly absorb punishment that sent countless, lesser backs to the sidelines doubled over in pain.

It’s a testament to his conditioning that he was able to last so long as an overworked feature back, and it’s damn near insane that he still had his heart set on returning to the NFL with a degenerative, bone on bone knee condition that must feel like a permanent root canal going on inside your body.

The NFL isn’t fair, and for every grizzled veteran that has their shining moment in the sun on Super Bowl Sunday, there are countless others who quietly limp away from the game, never having reached that ultimate goal. It saddens me to think that he’ll be one of them, but luck doesn’t seem to find those who don a Jets uniform.

He was footballs equivalent to a closer, Martin would bleed the clock and chew up critical yards during the most pivotal moments of a tight game. All those seemingly fruitless two and three yard runs into the line early on would begin to pay dividends late in a contest. It was literally Curtis vs. the defense in a battle of who would wear down first, and Martin always won at this game.

He demoralized opposing teams and ended games with such perfect efficiency that it must’ve been infuriating to watch for the opposition. It would always be a death of a thousand cuts with him running the ball, as Martin would slowly move the chains and beat the defense into submission.

A true throwback, he played the game the way it was supposed to be played, uncompromisingly tough with no regard for his body, never complaining, and only caring about one thing; winning.

True fans of the sport will miss his kind; as there are not many competitors like Curtis Martin remaining in a league that far too often resemble a circus rather than a sport.