Winter 97/98 Volume I Issue 3

If former NFL star running back Freeman McNeil wants to while away an afternoon on his patio, Peterson pipe in one hand and mug of hot tea in the other; well then, that's just fine. He deserves it. After eluding 250-pound wrecking machines with 4.5 speed for 12 years, no one's going to begrudge Freeman a little bit of hard-earned R&R.

"My wife has a rule," says Freeman, 38. "No smoking in the house, or around the children. So I go outside with my Peterson and a cup of Earl Grey tea with sweet milk. It's very soothing. I'm at my most calm when I'm relaxing with my pipe and my tea."

Sounds pretty sedate for a man who made his living in the brutal, macho-violent world of NFL football. But Freeman, soft-spoken and philosophical, had never had a problem leaving the game face alongside his cleats and shoulder pads in his locker, until it was time for the next combat session.

Born in Jackson, Mississippi, and raised outside L.A., Freeman attended UCLA, where he set season and career rushing records and made All American. The New York jets had big plans for the 5' 11", 215-pound halfback, grabbing him with the third overall pick of the 1981 draft, behind George Rogers and Lawrence Taylor. And Freeman didn't disappoint, employing his intensity and exceptional athletic ability to become a cornerstone in the Jets offense, leading the squad in rushing each season from 1981-1988. When Freeman hung 'em up in 1992, he'd collected over 8,000 career rushing yards, a Jet record and a total that placed him in the all-time NFL top 20, alongside familiar names like Payton, Dorsett, Csonka, Dickerson, Harris, and Brown.

Though he owns nearly every club rushing record, was jets MVP in 1982 and 1984, and a Pro Bowl selection four times, Freeman never quite got the recognition of his peers, wallowing away on mostly mediocre Jets squads for a good portion of his career. One exception was the 1982-1983 season, in which the Jets made it to the AFC Championship game against the Miami Dolphins. The Orange Bowl field was a muddy quagmire - the kind of day only a duck, or perhaps John Madden, would appreciate - and the Jets came up short, 14-0. Freeman names that season as the highlight of his career, though he's still clearly bitter about failing to earn a trip to the Big Dance. "It was probably one of the best teams assembled in the history of the game," he recalls fondly. "Everyone had a role; everyone played a significant part, in a very well-put together team."

Currently working in Manhattan as a financial planner, Freeman regrets the fact that he and his teammates were not able to bring the indomitable Jets fans a championship. "Jets fans are the greatest in the world," he states. "Looking up in the stands on freezing days, rainy days, and seeing them up there... then seeing the fans waiting to catch a glimpse of their favorite players long after the game was over - there's nothing like that. The fans [are] there to cheer you when you're down and celebrate with you when you win. They've suffered such a drought - my heart goes out to them.