You've got to play with that killer instinct, man. You've got to hate that guy across from you. Then after the game is over, tell him what a nice guy he is. Shake his hand. Especially if you win.

And you get into that sort of cannibalistic feeling - all you want to do is go out there and, like I say, kill somebody. I'm going to get him. I'm going to kill'em. Not like you are going to put them into the ground after, but you just want to kill a guy.

You've got to play with that killer instinct, man. You've got to hate that guy across from you. Then after the game is over, tell him what a nice guy he is. Shake his hand. Especially if you win.

Pros like myself played football not for money or glory, but for the simplest reason: the love of the game.

About a minute-and-a-half to go. He goes on a down-and-in pass. As soon as he caught it, I really puffed him, and his head snapped and the ball flew, and Chuck Weber fell on it. I clenched my fist, I turned around, and I closed my eyes and I said, 'This f-in game is over.'

For what my generation did and went through and so forth, and what these glamour boys earn for what little they play, it's a joke. Is it football? Are you guys football players? Is that what they call football? It's not iron-man football, where you stay on the field for 60 minutes. Everybody! We were iron men. Not a bunch of pussyfoots.

The positions I played, every play, I was making contact, not like that Deion Sanders. He couldn't tackle my wife. He's back there dancing out there instead of hitting.