FloridaMan88
12-30-2004, 08:14 PM
Article from yesterday's NY Times:
Chiefs Still Feel the Void Left by Thomas's Death
By DAMON HACK
Published: December 29, 2004
Cars rumble every day across Interstate 435 in Kansas City, where ice and tangled metal once lay. It was there, on Jan. 23, 2000, that linebacker Derrick Thomas of the Kansas City Chiefs was thrown from his sport utility vehicle in a one-car accident, a moment that, in its wake, altered so many lives.
One passenger, Michael D. Tellis, died at the scene; he, like Thomas, was not wearing a seat belt. Another passenger, John C. Hagebusch, who was wearing a seat belt and sitting in the back, sustained minor injuries.
Thomas, who was paralyzed from the chest down, died 16 days later from a blood clot in his pulmonary artery, leaving the Chiefs with a shadow of their once-proud defense, which had become identifiable by his dominance.
"Let's just say it succinctly: our defense has never been the same since we lost him," Carl Peterson, the president and general manager of the Chiefs, said in a telephone interview last week. "It was like a flame that went out."
Almost five years after his death at age 33, Thomas remains irreplaceable on the field and in the locker room, a testament to the power of one player to shape a team. Time and new players have not been able to make the Chiefs whole.
As Kansas City (7-8) nears the end of a disappointing season, the memory of Thomas has resurfaced, reminding the team of what it no longer has. On Aug. 17 this year, a jury in Jackson County found that Thomas was at fault in the accident; Thomas's mother, his seven children and their mothers had filed a wrongful death suit against General Motors, seeking at least $75 million in damages.
Last month, Thomas was named one of 25 semifinalists for the Pro Football Hall of Fame's class of 2005. A list of 15 finalists will be announced in mid-January and a maximum of six will be selected after a final vote Feb. 5, the day before Super Bowl XXXIX.
Members of the Chiefs' organization have been quietly pushing Thomas's candidacy, all the while knowing how much he has been missed - exploding off the line of scrimmage in his red jersey with a gray T-shirt tucked underneath.
"He's one of the great players in N.F.L. history, I believe," Lamar Hunt, the Chiefs' owner, said in an interview. "Not only as a mentor for players but also as a physical force in our defense. He is certainly someone that we've missed and we've been down a little defensively the last couple of years."
Since allowing the fewest points in the N.F.L. in 1995 and 1997, the Chiefs have been known more for their offense, with receiver and returner Dante Hall. In 2002, the Chiefs were last among the league's 32 teams in total defense. They were 29th last season and are 30th this year.
The Chiefs, who have won four in a row, are in third place in the American Football Conference West, well out of the playoff race heading into their final game Sunday at San Diego, the division winner.
Those who were close to Thomas, who would have turned 38 this Saturday, wonder how much better the Chiefs would have been had he lived. They wonder what kind of man he would be.
The agent Leigh Steinberg was negotiating a new contract for Thomas at the time of his death.
"There is an incredibly small group of superstar players who can play defense into their late 30's," Steinberg said in a telephone interview. "Derrick could have been a part-time player. We had also in that off-season given thought to preparation for a career in broadcasting if injuries and a diminishing of skills had forced him from the game by now.
"We had worked with Derrick to make sure that his friendships spanned every level and every strata of society."
Few players have ever had an impact on a team or a town the way Thomas did. He compiled 126½ sacks in 11 seasons with the Chiefs and was voted to the Pro Bowl nine times, becoming the face of the franchise and the soul of a city's sporting community.
At various times, younger players sat at Thomas's knee as he shared tips on rushing the passer. Thomas used to tell them to watch the quarterback's fingers before the ball was snapped. When the fingers became taut, the ball was off the line of scrimmage - and so was Thomas, who became known as D. T.
Chiefs Still Feel the Void Left by Thomas's Death
By DAMON HACK
Published: December 29, 2004
Cars rumble every day across Interstate 435 in Kansas City, where ice and tangled metal once lay. It was there, on Jan. 23, 2000, that linebacker Derrick Thomas of the Kansas City Chiefs was thrown from his sport utility vehicle in a one-car accident, a moment that, in its wake, altered so many lives.
One passenger, Michael D. Tellis, died at the scene; he, like Thomas, was not wearing a seat belt. Another passenger, John C. Hagebusch, who was wearing a seat belt and sitting in the back, sustained minor injuries.
Thomas, who was paralyzed from the chest down, died 16 days later from a blood clot in his pulmonary artery, leaving the Chiefs with a shadow of their once-proud defense, which had become identifiable by his dominance.
"Let's just say it succinctly: our defense has never been the same since we lost him," Carl Peterson, the president and general manager of the Chiefs, said in a telephone interview last week. "It was like a flame that went out."
Almost five years after his death at age 33, Thomas remains irreplaceable on the field and in the locker room, a testament to the power of one player to shape a team. Time and new players have not been able to make the Chiefs whole.
As Kansas City (7-8) nears the end of a disappointing season, the memory of Thomas has resurfaced, reminding the team of what it no longer has. On Aug. 17 this year, a jury in Jackson County found that Thomas was at fault in the accident; Thomas's mother, his seven children and their mothers had filed a wrongful death suit against General Motors, seeking at least $75 million in damages.
Last month, Thomas was named one of 25 semifinalists for the Pro Football Hall of Fame's class of 2005. A list of 15 finalists will be announced in mid-January and a maximum of six will be selected after a final vote Feb. 5, the day before Super Bowl XXXIX.
Members of the Chiefs' organization have been quietly pushing Thomas's candidacy, all the while knowing how much he has been missed - exploding off the line of scrimmage in his red jersey with a gray T-shirt tucked underneath.
"He's one of the great players in N.F.L. history, I believe," Lamar Hunt, the Chiefs' owner, said in an interview. "Not only as a mentor for players but also as a physical force in our defense. He is certainly someone that we've missed and we've been down a little defensively the last couple of years."
Since allowing the fewest points in the N.F.L. in 1995 and 1997, the Chiefs have been known more for their offense, with receiver and returner Dante Hall. In 2002, the Chiefs were last among the league's 32 teams in total defense. They were 29th last season and are 30th this year.
The Chiefs, who have won four in a row, are in third place in the American Football Conference West, well out of the playoff race heading into their final game Sunday at San Diego, the division winner.
Those who were close to Thomas, who would have turned 38 this Saturday, wonder how much better the Chiefs would have been had he lived. They wonder what kind of man he would be.
The agent Leigh Steinberg was negotiating a new contract for Thomas at the time of his death.
"There is an incredibly small group of superstar players who can play defense into their late 30's," Steinberg said in a telephone interview. "Derrick could have been a part-time player. We had also in that off-season given thought to preparation for a career in broadcasting if injuries and a diminishing of skills had forced him from the game by now.
"We had worked with Derrick to make sure that his friendships spanned every level and every strata of society."
Few players have ever had an impact on a team or a town the way Thomas did. He compiled 126½ sacks in 11 seasons with the Chiefs and was voted to the Pro Bowl nine times, becoming the face of the franchise and the soul of a city's sporting community.
At various times, younger players sat at Thomas's knee as he shared tips on rushing the passer. Thomas used to tell them to watch the quarterback's fingers before the ball was snapped. When the fingers became taut, the ball was off the line of scrimmage - and so was Thomas, who became known as D. T.