Allen Was a Leader, but His Being a Chief Never Fit

The Pro Football Hall of Fame announced its 2003 inductees Saturday, and there’s no doubt Marcus Allen is the class of the class.

The other four were former Kansas City Chief coach Hank Stram, Houston Oiler defensive end Elvin Bethea, Buffalo Bill guard Joe DeLamielleure and wide receiver James Lofton, who played for the Green Bay Packers in his prime but also spent two seasons with Allen in Los Angeles.

Marcus Allen is the only one I’d pay to see play football -- in their heyday or even now. At 42, he still looks as if he could strap on a helmet and rush for 100 yards.

He played a violent game with grace. He never showed the speed of a Michael Vick or the moves of a Barry Sanders. He appeared to glide into open spaces, without ever seeming to take a jarring hit.

“He was just a pleasure to watch,” Pittsburgh Steeler running back Jerome Bettis said. “His vision was second to none. He knew where everybody was coming from.”

The smoothness that defined his 16 years in the NFL served him well at the podium Saturday as he addressed a packed convention room to describe the crowning achievement of his career.

He worked his way around his thorny relationship with Al Davis the same way he eluded so many would-be tacklers.

He paid tribute to that often-neglected segment of our society, African American fathers.

He even saved the day for the Hall of Fame and hundreds of reporters on hand for the announcement; he was the only inductee initially present for the news conference. Otherwise the first 30 minutes would have been nothing but voices coming over a speakerphone, which doesn’t make for compelling television footage.

There was no way Allen would miss the chance to celebrate this honor in his hometown of San Diego, where he first rose to prominence at Lincoln High.

The only thing that took away from the moment was when a giant trading card that depicted Allen in a Kansas City Chief uniform was displayed.

It just didn’t look right. Even though Allen spent his final five seasons with the Chiefs, and that’s the uniform he wore when he set an NFL record with 123 touchdowns rushing, it’s hard to think of him as anything other than a Raider. He set or tied 12 Raider records. All but one of his major awards, including the 1985 NFL most valuable player, came while he was wearing the silver and black.

But he can’t associate with those colors now. He has been banned by Al Davis, who, for reasons still not completely explained, ran him out of town and tried to trash his reputation.

Given the chance to steal the spotlight and rub his success in Davis’ face the day before the Raiders’ return to the Super Bowl, Allen chose the high road.

“I don’t want to get into anything negative,” Allen said. “This is the most positive day in my athletic career. I don’t want anything to distract from that. I wish the Raiders the best, I wish Mr. Davis the best in their quest to win another championship.”

Allen has always been able to rise above squabbles the same way he rose over the pile and into the end zone in so many goal-line situations.

“I was with him, probably the worst five years of his career,” said Raider receiver Tim Brown, who called Allen the most valuable teammate he ever had. “He was probably the most inspirational player on our team, every year.

“Even though he had a horrible relationship with the organization, he never let that at all affect what he did on the football field.”

There’s a misconception that an inductee must choose a team to represent when he goes into the Hall of Fame. Unlike baseball, in which players are depicted with a team’s cap on their plaque, football players don’t have a helmet on their bust. A Hall of Fame representative clarified Saturday that inductees are identified by position, not team.

“I’d like to go in, if at all possible, representing both teams,” Allen said. “It’s virtually impossible to ignore -- even though I spent some tumultuous years in Los Angeles -- all the great things that happened. Everyone likes to think I had problems with everybody, the colors, the organization, stuff like that. I had a problem with one individual, which made my stay somewhat uncomfortable. I’d like to recognize both teams.”

There are certain things that are bigger than personal differences, and Marcus Allen and his contributions to the Raiders fit that category.

Allen delivered the third Lombardi Trophy to the Raiders with his MVP performance in Super Bowl XVIII, highlighted by his 74-yard touchdown run. He blocked, he ran routes, he even threw passes. He allowed the Bo Jackson phenomenon to happen by making room in the backfield for Bo.

Eric Dickerson used his 1999 induction speech to make peace with the Rams, going out of his way to praise John Shaw, who traded him to the Colts.

But it’s not up to Allen to mend this relationship. It’s on Al Davis. He needs to make the big step and apologize, to clear the way for a proper tribute to the Raiders’ newest Hall of Famer. Allen never played a home game in Oakland, but anyone who cares about the Raider tradition would give him a standing ovation, which is what should happen at a Raider home game to honor this feat.

Allen’s selection came as no surprise. The 12,243 yards rushing, 5,411 yards receiving and the 145 touchdowns solidified his entry just as soon as the five-year minimum retirement period passed. As Mel Blount told him when a group of Hall of Famers gathered for a picture at the 2000 induction ceremonies, “You might as well come up now.” The only shock would have come if Allen announced that Davis was going to introduce him at the ceremony in Canton, Ohio.

Allen said that his father, Harold, would present him.

“Especially with so many fractured families in the black community, I want everyone to know that my father was there for me,” Allen said.

He cited genetics (his dad still swings a mean golf club at age 68) as the key to his durability at a position that beats down players.

It’s also clear his parents taught him to carry himself with class.

J.A. Adande can be reached at: j.a.adande@latimes.com.