What can truly be said about the man who brought a sense of pride to the Arizona Cardinals’ organization — without an ounce of it in his own body? Where words fail, a gold jacket says everything.
On Thursday night, the legendary Larry Fitzgerald was selected for the Pro Football Hall of Fame on his first ballot, five years following the unceremonious end of his playing days. In a era in which Hall of Fame discourse has become diluted by interpersonal politics and narrative-driven selections, Cardinals fans were subjected to an undue amount of suspense awaiting the selection committee’s decision.
But they made the right one.
Larry Fitzgerald Selected To Hall of Fame
Fitzgerald became just the eighth wide receiver in NFL history to be awarded a first-ballot induction. He’s only the fourth such example in the 2000s, alongside Jerry Rice (2010), Randy Moss (2018) and Calvin Johnson (2021).
Fitzgerald comes in second to only the first illustrious name on that list in career receptions (1,432) and receiving yards (17,492). His 121 touchdowns are the sixth-most by a wideout in NFL history. He owns the best cumulative single-season performance in playoff history, with 546 yards and seven touchdowns over four games in Arizona’s 2008 Super Bowl run.
From Fitzgerald’s 2005 sophomore season through the 2011 season, he amassed six 1,000-yard campaigns, only missing seven straight by 64 yards when he missed three games in 2006. Of those six seasons, three times did he surpass 1,400 yards. He also caught at least one pass in 256 straight games — a streak only broken by his retirement. And, of course, Fitzgerald recorded more career tackles (41) than drops (35) — a stat frequent internet-dwellers have likely seen ad nauseam.
Numbers are beautiful. They are the necessary infrastructure of sports legends. But to boil Fitzgerald’s career down to the near-superhuman statistics would still manage to be a disservice to what he stood for, to a franchise that has seen so little tangible success.
Despite playing for a team that managed just five above-.500 seasons for the entirety of his 17-year career, Fitzgerald never requested a trade. He never voiced frustration, and he never made the game about himself — despite having nearly every reason to do so. He outwardly celebrated a positive play only one single time — and apologized for it immediately after. He won the NFL’s Walter Payton Man of the Year Award in 2016.
Fitzgerald caught a pass from 22 different Cardinals quarterbacks. Of those 22, only three stand out: Kurt Warner, Carson Palmer and Kyler Murray. Fitzgerald played just 127 of his 263 career games with those passers, spending the rest with names that will fade into the obscurity of trivia questions and assistant coaching roles.
It never mattered. Fitzgerald simply went out and dominated, ripping ill-placed passes out of the hands of defensive backs, turning double coverage into a practice rep, and delivering two of the greatest plays in Arizona sports history in two of the Cardinals’ biggest playoff games.
For many, watching Fitzgerald play each week defined what it meant to be a Cardinals fan. He defined what it meant to be a member of a franchise that has existed since 1920. He allowed fans to take pride in their NFL allegiance, while playing without a trace of his own. He played not for personal glory, but for the love of the game and a respect for the others who played it around him. It was obvious, week-in and week-out.
Despite growing up a Minnesota kid, Fitzgerald chose to invest in the Valley. He embraced Arizona as his home, raised his family in Phoenix and willfully remains a leader-figure in a long-suffering sports city. No matter how few banners or sports heroes Arizona may boast, there is always one player to which fans can point.
“[Arizona is] home for me,” Fitzgerald told 12 News’ Cameron Cox. “For somebody to be able to stay in one place for that long, it’s not always the player’s choice… They could’ve said, ‘Hey, we can move on.’ I told [owner Michael Bidwill] how much I appreciated him just believing in me, even when my skills started diminishing.”
“Obviously, the community of Arizona, what they’ve done in terms of pouring into me… It’s been an unbelievable journey, and one that I’m just so, so thankful for.”
It remains one of the NFL’s most painful grievances that Fitzgerald cannot hang his gold jacket next to the Super Bowl ring he so deserved. But to Cardinals fans, he remains a legend — a shining star in the blackness of a century-long tragic tale.
