Dwight Freeney mastered the art of spinning long before he reached the NFL.
He kept his body low
Tom Jackson Jersey , his head up and his eyes focused on the quarterback. It made him different, and it made him one of the NFL's great pass rushers.
On Monday, after 16 seasons of chasing quarterbacks and making offensive linemen look silly, the former Indianapolis Colts star returned to his adopted hometown to sign a one-day contract to retire with the Colts.
"I used to get called for traveling all day (in basketball), so I couldn't really do the basketball thing," Freeney said, explaining why he started using his trademark move.
"So I got on the football field and the coach said 'Dwight, I don't care how you get there, just get there.' So I started using the spin move and kept going with it and it became a natural thing."
Now, he can finally stop.
Freeney didn't shed tears or make some long, laudatory speeches. He kept it simple and down to earth ??the same way he emerged as a leader in a locker room full of offensive stars.
Instead, his parents, his fiancee, Colts owner Jim Irsay and some former teammates and coaches celebrated the 38-year-old who outlasted and outperformed most of his contemporaries.
He leaves the game with one Super Bowl ring, having played in two other Super Bowls
Corey Coleman Jersey , seven Pro Bowls selections and three first-team All-Pro selections. His 125? sacks are tied for No. 17 in league history and his 47 forced fumbles rank fifth all-time.
What made Freeney unique, though, was a move so daunting that teammate Robert Mathis incorporated it into his pass rush repertoire and Colts' coaches actually asked Freeney to teach other linemen how it worked.
"The disrupter, the hurricane whatever you want to call him," Irsay said. "With Dwight it was like you turn on the film and it was just mayhem. It was like you were instantly drawn to that side of the field. It was like an instant firefight."
Not everyone appreciated the move.
