Tuesday, July 16, 2002

Matthews more than just another faceless lineman

NFL a lesser league without Titans class act on board

By Ken Bikoff, Associate editor

The shot has stuck with me through all of these years because I thought to myself, "That is a big, mean, scary guy." (Hey, I was in third grade, alright.) And when I found out that this huge human — the biggest I had seen even in a picture in my limited experience at the time — had a brother, Bruce, who was drafted by the then Houston Oilers, I thought it would be fun if they played each other.

I never imagined that 19 years later I would be writing about Bruce finally retiring. Clay got my attention by leaving a seven-year-old a little scared, but Bruce won my respect by coming to work every day, playing in a record 296 games during his career. It’s a mind-boggling number. Playing the offensive line is one of the most difficult gigs in sports. Basically you go from standing still to running into a brick wall 70-plus times a game, but that brick wall fights back, and more brick walls fall all around your legs and calamity surrounds you at every turn.

Even more rare, Bruce played his entire career with the organization, following the team from Houston to Tennessee, from the Oilers to the Titans. He was a stalwart for the franchise for two decades, and he conducted himself with class the entire time he was with the ballclub. But I’m not going to let this column fall into the usual lovefest that these little tributes can become.

Instead, I’m going to throw some info at you that makes me scratch my head. He has been coached for the past seven years by Mike Munchak, who just so happened to play alongside Bruce for the first 12 years of his career. A 12-year career would do most people just fine, but Bruce wasn’t ready to give up protecting his Oiler/Titan teammates after a dozen campaigns. He just kept plugging, running into the brick walls over and over, toiling at a position in which the only public recognition comes when you screw up.

Some players work their entire careers to become a Pro Bowler, but they never can reach that level. Bruce went to the Pro Bowl nine times at guard and another five times at center. His 14 overall trips to Hawaii ties him with NFL legend Merlin Olson for the most Pro Bowl appearances. He played in 40 different stadiums over the years and nearly spent as much time in the NFL as the Kingdome.

Bruce will have his number retired by the Titans for his years of service, and it won’t be long before the boys in Canton will be knocking on his door. He will get his recognition he so richly deserves. The man blocked for five different Heisman Trophy winners and came one-yard short of getting a shot at winning a Super Bowl right, and he is considered one of the all-time greats.

But that admiration really doesn’t go far enough. Year after year, staying in top physical condition, being someone that his team could count on every single game. Bruce played every game during the decade of the 1990s. How many people do you know that you could count on every day — hell, even once a week — for a full 10 years? That’s what Bruce was. He was someone that the Oilers/Titans could lean on. They knew that he would get the job done, and he wasn’t much of a concern. The running attack may have fallen off at times during the years; the passing attack did the same at times. But there was Bruce, running into brick walls and wearing ugly uniforms.

And talk about pushing yourself. The Houston Oilers 1984 media guide, which was printed just before Bruce’s second year in the NFL, lists him at 6-4, 280 pounds. The Tennessee Titans media guide from last season lists him at 6-5, 305 pounds. The two decades of pounding against that brick wall added one inch and 25 pounds to his frame — although I demand a recount on the height issue — and reflects the way the size of linemen has changed over the years. The scary thing is, Bruce isn’t really considered all that big among his contemporaries.

My association — even from afar — with the Matthews boys started long ago, when a giant Clay (who looking back now actually wasn’t all that big, being listed in 1981 as 6-2, 230-pounds) scared the living bejeezus out of a seven-year-old, and it will end with no fear, only respect for two brothers that played the game the way it was meant to be played. But I have more respect for Bruce, who outlasted just about everybody, and never let that brick wall stop him.

The Archives
2001 - 2002 Season