Walter Payton symbolized everything that we love about the game of football, and his death Monday from cancer of the bile ducts has left a void in the NFL community.

In an age when substance-abuse violations, criminal activities off the field and acrimonious relations between a player and his team often dominate the football headlines, Payton represented all that was positive about the game.

Rushing for 1,000 yards or more in 10 seasons and 100 yards or more in 77 games during 13 NFL seasons, the former Bears running back set eight NFL records en route to the Pro Football Hall of Fame, but it was the way he played the game as much as the incredible numbers he posted that made Payton the truly special individual that he was.

For me, Payton’s unique quality as a football player can best be described as his sheer joy for the game. I can’t remember another player who performed with such enthusiasm, without any hot-dogging. Just watching Payton, you could tell that he loved playing football, loved the contact.

A lasting image for me will be Payton taking on an oncoming tackler, lowering his head and using his shoulder to strike the first blow. Or Payton using his patented stiff-arm to ward off the defender. Of course, Payton could break tackles with the best of them, but it was the one-on-one contact that he seemed to enjoy the most.

Some will say Jim Brown was a better runner than Payton. Or perhaps Gale Sayers, who preceded Payton in the Bears’ backfield. Maybe. But was there ever a better all-around running back than Payton? Arguably, no. Payton was a complete running back. Not only could he run, but he was a bruising blocker and an accomplished pass catcher. He could even throw the halfback option pass.

Playing his entire career in Chicago, Payton demonstrated the blue-collar work ethic that symbolizes the city. He missed only one game during his 13-year career, an amazing record of durability for a workhorse running back in the NFL. Like Mike Ditka — his coach for six seasons, including a Super Bowl XX title — Payton was all business when he stepped onto a football field.

One thing is certain: Few, if any, other players have ever possessed Payton's combination of skill, enthusiasm for the game and dogged work ethic.

Although he was a public icon in the Windy City, "Sweetness" was an extremely private person, as much as a man of his celebrity can be. This became even more apparent after he confirmed at a press conference in February that he was being treated for primary sclerosing cholangitis, a rare disease that causes scarring and inflammation of the bile ducts and ultimately requires a liver transplant. Before his death, he never revealed to the public that he had subsequently contracted a malignancy of the bile ducts that ruled out any possibility of a transplant.

That’s the way Walter Payton wanted it. A private person. A family man. Above all, a man of great dignity and enthusiasm for life.