The road is dark, and it's a thin, thin line

Good Lord

The toughest man in the world has died. You can have all your UFC champions, Crossift experts, Marines, Texas Rangers, Special Ops guys, etc. There have been pretenders and there have been contenters, but there was only one.

At least in my eyes.

Check Bednarik used to be my neighbor, sort of, back in Pennsylvania. I would see him around town from time to time, at the Weis Market or hardware store.

One day I was behind him in line at the Coopersburg Post Office. When he got to the counter, I heard him growling about something -- the price of stamps or perhaps about the fact that his letter carrier didn't get to his neighborhood until suppertime.

Of course I remember that orneriness, but the thing that struck me most about him physically was his hands: huge paws with bent and disfigured fingers. Hands that looked as though he might kill you with them just as easy as look at you.

Bednarik, also known as Concrete Charlie for his off season job as a concrete salesman, played 14 seasons for the Philadelphia Eagles. And I think he tried to remove the heads of opponents in every one of those games. He is most well known for the hit he put on Frank Gifford of my Giants that knocked Gifford out of football for two years. It was such a savage tackle that I have read that some at the game thought Gifford was dead.

He was a waist gunner over Nazi Germany during The Big One. He was one of the last of pro football's two-way players. The word "concrete" was fitting for his persona, his demeanor, and his no-nonsense approach to every thing he did.

Chuck Bednarik turned around to look at me briefly in line that day at the post office. I had on a Giants sweatshirt, unfortunately.

He gave me the once-over, and decided that at least that day he wouldn't try to separate me from my outgoing mail.

But he did scoff and mumble something under his breath.

I didn't wear any Giants gear around town any more after that.