When Brett Favre officially retired that day in March in Green Bay, he drew a big crowd, much as Jonathan Ogden did yesterday in Owings Mills. Just like Favre's announcement, and like Michael Strahan's earlier this week, Ogden's farewell was carried live on national TV (in homes that get the NFL Network, at least).
The same kinds of adjectives were showered on all of them - greatest, champion, never another like him. Vivid memories were recalled by those who played with him and who had the pleasure of watching him. The same deep sense of loss was expressed.
Let's remind everybody that yesterday's celebration, this flood of admiration, this bearhug from not only the city where he played but also from the entire football world, was for an offensive lineman. In Ogden's words, one of the "mushrooms - in the dark, just go ahead and feed them."
So it was no surprise that of the swarm of former and current teammates in the room to send him off, the majority played the position and lived the anonymity with him. Among his other accomplishments, Ogden turned the spotlight on the trenches in ways it never had been before.
"He's a lineman. He's real humble; he's not in it for the fame," said Orlando Brown, aka Zeus, the other tackle on the Ravens' line on the Super Bowl team. "We want to be in it for the fame, but the camera doesn't look for us.
"The camera always did look at him, though," he added.
The camera couldn't ignore Ogden, even if he tried to ignore it - until the very end, when he did everything he could to not make his farewell a big public show, even fooling his large family contingent into thinking the day would be a lot more low-key.
The NFL has featured great lines, of course, and great linemen. But with Ogden, you didn't have to be a film addict to see that he was not only a different breed at the position, but that he was also the best offensive player on the Ravens, sometimes the best on either team, even though he never touched the ball.
In essence, he made blocking for the cool players cool in itself. It's taken for granted that he and his brethren do the dirtiest work for the least reward and recognition (unless they do it wrong). With him, though, the left tackle became the star. His became a popular jersey. He became a force in every game in ways that the casual fan couldn't ignore. He became a major character in a book about the evolution toward him, the prototype (Michael Lewis' The Blind Side).
