MY FRIEND, FLOYD LITTLE
I met Floyd Little in 1964. It was my freshman year at Syracuse University in upstate New York. I didn’t know anyone. Floyd was the first varsity player to speak to me. He was kind, friendly and easy to be around. We became close immediately and, eventually, became the backfield for the Orangemen.
Floyd was always positive and upbeat. Even in the darkest of times, he always found hope and good. There are people in our lives we always feel close to. Even if we don’t see them regularly, there’s a bond that endures. Floyd was one of those people in my life. He was football family. And he bled Orange – for his Orangemen and his beloved Denver Broncos!
In recent years, we’d been fortunate to spend more time together. We attended the spring game with Tom Coughlin at SU and were honored in Jacksonville early last year for our performance in the Gator Bowl of ’66. I always looked forward to seeing Floyd’s smiling face at the Hall of Fame inductions in Canton each year and, at times, during Super Bowl events.
He was special people to me. When you lose your special people, a little piece of you goes with them. But I can’t help but smile when I think of Floyd. He was a shining star in my life – “my brother from another mother,” he would say.