Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
In his playing days, Dan Dierdorf was one of the greatest professional athletes in St. Louis history. He was the face of the St. Louis football Cardinals franchise in the 1970s, a Hall of Fame offensive tackle, and the leader of a group recognized as one of the best offensive lines in NFL history. When his time on the field was finished, he became a broadcaster, calling games on TV for 30 years, including a stint on Monday Night Football.
Yesterday, he announced his retirement, effective at the end of the current season. His passion for the game hasn't diminished, but mounting physical ailments have made traveling around the country to the various stadiums a burden. He and his former teammate Jim Hart also closed their namesake steakhouse here in St. Louis earlier this year.
This summer, I interviewed Dierdorf for an article about the health issues and financial strains faced by former football players.
Dan grew up in the small town of Canton, Ohio. The Pro Football Hall of Fame opened there when he was still a child. (But not when he was small; Dierdorf would be quick to point out that he was never small.) He remembers being in awe of the titans of the game who came for their induction ceremonies.
"Back then, the men who played pro football, it’s like they came down from Mount Olympus to play the game," he told me. "They were almost mythical characters. To see them in person, even to know you were within 100 yards of one of those guys was kind of intoxicating."
Soon enough, Dierdorf would become one of those legends himself. When I spoke with former teammates about Big Dan, as they call him, they described him in almost mythical terms, the biggest man they had ever seen, a mix between Samson and Goliath.
In 1975, led by Dierdorf, the Cardinals gave up just eight sacks all season, a record. Dierdorf played 13 seasons for the Cardinals, making the Pro Bowl six times. He suffered a catastrophic knee injury on, of all things, an extra point in 1979 and was never the same player again, eventually retiring as a result.
But Dierdorf is a proud, tough man, never one to complain. In 1977, he broke his jaw only to return to action a couple of weeks later. "I'm not sure that was my best move," Dierdorf says. "Having your jaw wired shut and then trying to do something as strenuous as football isn't the easiest thing in the world. I lost 55 pounds in six weeks. It's amazing how much weight you can lose when you can't eat at all."
When his playing career ended, Dierdorf transitioned directly to the broadcast booth. He's been in an NFL stadium just about every fall Sunday of his adult life. He says it's as thrilling as ever. The buzz of the crowd and the crisp fall air and the clash of heroic men on the gridiron still give him goosebumps. That's how Dierdorf views the game, in those epic terms. Add in his deep, gravelly voice, and in many ways, listening to him describe the action on the field embodies the very essence of football.
But over the years, the physical toll of playing in the NFL, especially on the paper-thin artificial turf at old Busch Stadium, has ravaged Dierdorf's body. He's had both knees and both hips replaced. Even when discussing his physical limitations, Dierdorf shows his pride. "I’m one of the few, in fact, I’ve never met anybody that’s got all four, had to have all four of his major joints replaced," he says. "I’m in that position, and it’s all because of that AstroTurf."
When he's not on the road calling games, Dierdorf splits his time between here and Michigan, where he spends the summer to escape the St. Louis heat. He has four kids and two grandchildren.
Now that he's retiring, Dierdorf will probably spend a bit more time at his lake house in Michigan. "I do a lot of walleye fishing and play golf and sit out on my screened-in porch and sip on a cup of coffee every now and then," he says. "And maybe a glass of wine every now and then."
That doesn't sound too bad. "It works for me."
