At his Hall of Fame weekend, Steve Atwater again shows why he is the man we should all aspire to be

CANTON, Ohio — You knew the bust would have Steve Atwater smiling.

Anything but that wouldn’t have been a proper salute to the man who has been called the “Smiling Assassin” since his earliest days as a Denver Bronco, a nickname that emcee Chris Berman repeated when he introduced Atwater for induction at Tom Benson Hall of Fame Stadium here Saturday.

He killed ballcarriers and quarterbacks on the field, metaphorically speaking. But he did so with kindness. And he always, always was grateful for those who made possible his journey from high-school wishbone quarterback to becoming the 327th member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

The bust he unveiled with Ring of Fame safety and teammate Dennis Smith is his, as is the custom-made gold jacket that is destined to become as much of a staple of his attire as his mind-blowing array of Broncos polo shirts, which I once estimated to be at least three dozen.

In an eight-minute, 44-second speech here Saturday, Atwater somehow packed in as many thank-yous and shoutouts as you would have expected from the 25- and 30-minute soliloquies that were common prior to stricter time limits being imposed by the Hall of Fame this year.

He mentioned 64 people by name, from three of his coaches at Lutheran North High School in St. Louis to current Broncos defensive coordinator Ed Donatell, who was his position coach from 1995-98.

“My lifetime friend,” Atwater said of Donatell.

He thanked those in the media who called him “a future Hall of Famer,” even though he sometimes bristled at the term because he thought it might jinx his chances. He gave shout-outs to those on the selection committee who voted for him, his fans and teammates at the University of Arkansas, his coaches and teammates in Denver, and even the New York Jets, who brought him aboard for a single season in 1999.

And finally, Atwater saluted Broncos Country itself.

But the thank yous were about more than Saturday night.

One evening earlier, he held court at a country club a few miles from the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Surrounded by friends and family, he was like a bride or groom at a wedding, receiving a seemingly-ceaseless stream of guests and well-wishers.

A few hours into the evening, he addressed the throng, resplendent in his brand-new gold jacket signifying membership in the Hall. And he wanted to make one thing clear: the jacket he wore didn’t just belong to him.

“Each of you has a couple of threads,” he said, smiling and basking in the roars of his friends, family, coaches, teammates and others who celebrated with him.

That’s the thing with Steve: It’s not about him. It’s never been about him. It’s about the “we” and the “us.” His gratitude is profound and sincere.

Atwater oozes positivity. He kept on smiling. even on the days in 2016 and 2019, one day before each year’s Super Bowl, when his Hall of Fame candidacy hit a wall in the room of selectors.

In a way, Steve is a real-life Ted Lasso. He makes you feel warmer just by being in the same room with him, but also in that he causes you to look at yourself and say, “What could I do to be that nice? How could I be more like Steve — and thus, be a better person?”

When a man like that enters the Pro Football Hall of Fame, it is not merely an individual celebration, or even one for the Broncos.

It is a celebration of a man who embodies the best of humanity, blessed with gratitude, kindness, empathy and warmth.

We all are the better for Atwater taking his place in the most exclusive club in the sport, because no one could possibly deserve these moments more.

Nice guys DO finish first.

And you’ll find none nicer than Steve Atwater, the Smiling Assassin, and Hall of Fame member No. 327.