Steve Tasker was, without question, one of the great special-teams players in National Football League history.
His teeth-cracking hits on return men electrified crowds at Rich Stadium and often provided the Buffalo Bills with crucial field position before, during and after the franchise's Super Bowl era. His blocked punt on a Sunday night against the Los Angeles Raiders in 1990 triggered his team's run to the first of four straight AFC titles.
He also provided a spark on kick returns, like his game-turning runback of a squib kick against the Raiders in the 1993 postseason, and as a receiver on the rare occasions he was asked to do so.
Without question, Tasker deserves to be enshrined.
On the Bills' Wall of Fame.
But the Hall of Fame in Canton? Nah.
Before sending a nasty e-mail questioning my football knowledge, parentage, patriotism or sexual preference, hear me out.
Coaches like to say special teams is one-third of the game, equally as important as offense or defense. While it's true that one play in the kicking game can make the difference (Home Run Throwback, anyone?), special-teams specialists like Tasker are on the field for a fraction of the time their offensive and defensive teammates are playing.
During his busiest day on the suicide squads -- as special teams used to be called before some overly sensitive types insisted on dropping that nickname -- Tasker was on the field for 20 to 25 snaps. That's less than 20 percent of the plays run in a typical game. So no matter how impactful a single play or two may be, the sheer amount of participation, or lack thereof, by a special-teamer makes his candidacy a shaky one.
After all, another Bills special-teams ace, long snapper Adam Lingner, flubbed one snap during his career, and made plenty of tackles, as well. Does that mean he belongs in Canton, too?
Then there are Tasker's competitors. He's one of 25 semi-finalists remaining with a shot at entering the Hall as part of the Class of 2004.
The Pro Football Hall of Fame isn't as picky as its baseball counterpart, which doesn't have to induct anyone if no one is found worthy by the voters. Canton mandates that three to six modern-era players, coaches or executives go in each year.
Of this year's 25 semi-finalists, at least 15 deserve enshrinement before Tasker.
Two slam-dunks for enshrinement in their first year of eligibility -- John Elway and Barry Sanders. Not even a lifelong season-ticket holder with the charging Buffalo tattooed on his forehead could argue Tasker deserves a spot in the Hall before them.
Two of last year's finalists are up again -- linebacker Harry Carson and general manager George Young. Those two were the defensive anchor and architect, respectively, of the New York Giants teams that won two Super Bowls.
I'd argue that both belong, but let's figure that they'll split the vote a bit, with one getting the requisite number of votes.
The rest of the list is mighty impressive, too:
There are also cases to be made for Ken Stabler, Art Monk, Rayfield Wright, Roger Wehrli and Cliff Branch.
There's even one of Tasker's teammates who didn't make the cut-down to 25 who is at least as deserving -- center Kent Hull.
For some reason, centers tend to get ignored by voters.
Maybe it's because they're usually less massive than tackles or guards, or because they rarely pull to lead a running play, which makes for better appearances in NFL Films.
But I'll argue with anyone that no Buffalo offensive lineman was more responsible for the success of the K-Gun offense in the early '90s than Hull.
In addition to his perfect technique and constant tenacity, his ability to make line calls and keep the front wall coordinated was at least as important to the no-huddle as Jim Kelly's play selections.
Hull's importance was underscored by what happened on the rare occasions he wasn't there. In 1992, Buffalo started 4-0, averaging more than 38 points per game.
He got hurt against Miami in the fifth game, and the Dolphins won 37-10 at Rich Stadium. A week later, with Hull still sidelined, Buffalo's offense managed but a single field goal in a 20-3 loss to the Raiders in Los Angeles -- a game also notable as the singular career highlight of Todd Marinovich.
None of this is meant to diminish Tasker's accomplishments. The simple fact that he's even gotten this close to induction is a measure of his impact on football and the way it's perceived, both by the media and the masses.
I'll even go so far as to say Tasker was the best there ever was at what he did.
It's just that the nature of his job didn't allow him to do it often enough to deserve a bronze bust in Canton.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | November 18 2003 |