The man that wore the number 44 for Syracuse was, and probably still is, the greatest football player the sport has ever known. He was a living, breathing tornado, leaving nothing but dust and rubble in his wake.  He ran over, around, but mostly through defenders. He was the personification of football.

This man that wore the number 44 for Syracuse was more myth than reality. Lacking exposure due to the fact that he played in the Northeast, he became more of an imaginative figure than flesh and blood. Stories of this man of steel spread like wildfire throughout the country. The All-American that most people had only heard of, but never seen.

The man that wore number 44 for Syracuse played with a fury and angst that has yet to be matched by anyone. He steamrolled his competition and in his senior season he was far and away the best player in the nation. He culminated that regular season with a 43 point performance against Colgate, (Six touchdowns and seven PATs.) The man that wore number 44 was a man among boys.

The man that wore number 44 for Syracuse was Jim Brown.  The year was 1956. America was not ready to bestow its most prestigious individual sports award to a black athlete. The Heisman went to Notre Dame's Paul Horning that year, even though the Irish finished the season 2-8 – the only Heisman winner whose team had a losing record.

Sports writing great Dick Schaap was so disgusted with the vote that he refused to vote again for more than twenty years.

When Jim Brown left Syracuse for Cleveland and the pros, he left all the records, all the touchdowns: he left the emptiness of an unfulfilled dream of a Heisman Trophy. He also left his number, 44.

At the same time, in Elmira, NY, a boy was making like the man from Syracuse. Young Ernie Davis was an All-State basketball and football star in high school. The humble youngster was as gentle off the field as he was dominant on it. Well, maybe he was a little gentle on it too.

There is one story of Davis where he had a clear path to sack the opposing quarterback and instead of taking him down, he merely held the boy up until the referee blew the play dead. This boy was becoming a prize jewel of some of the top programs in the country.

But there was one recruiter in particular that influenced Davis more than all the others. The recently graduated Jim Brown knew Davis could make an immediate impact on the program and in the end Davis was so impressed with Brown that Syracuse was his choice. Brown bestowed upon Davis the legendary number 44, not as a burden, but as a pact that Davis would pick up where Brown left off and take care of his unfinished business.

Ernie Davis would.

As a sophomore, Davis led the Orangemen to an undefeated season and its first and only national title. The campaign finished with a Cotton Bowl win over Texas where he scored twice, including an 87-yard touchdown reception that set the tone for the game.

Davis scored 10 times that season, while racking up an astounding seven yards per carry average. He was not only impressive on the field, but off it as well.

Davis was a total package, great athlete, dedicated student, and a great human being. Davis' cousin, Chuck, once said, "That's the type of person Ernie was, strangers would walk up to Ernie and tell them their problems." To look at Ernie Davis was almost to look at royalty. He had certain eloquence about him.

After such a stellar sophomore season, a lot was expected of him, and he delivered, as he always did. He earned All-America honors, was third in the nation in rushing, leading the Orangemen to a 7-2 record. He averaged an astounding 7.8 yards per carry that season.

When you gave the ball to E.D., you knew what to expect, just as if you came to E.D. with a problem, you knew he'd help you out. As Davis' game and notoriety rose, anyone who knew him would still tell you, as great of a player that he was, he was ten times the man off the field.

Syracuse was just 7-3 in 1961, but Davis once again was an All-American. And although his yards per carry average wasn't as impressive as his two previous seasons, he was still a terror on the field. Following that season, Davis was named the Heisman Trophy winner. He would also meet John F. Kennedy.

"Imagine," Davis said, "a president wanting to shake hands with me."

And then Davis did something else for Syracuse: he recruited a young man from a military school in Jersey. He told him SU would be a good fit for him. That young man was Floyd Little. Little would become a three-time All-America selection in his Syracuse career Davis was no doubt smiling down from heaven as he watched Little break his all-time touchdown record – wearing number 44.

It's no coincidence that the statue of Davis on Syracuse's campus depicts him holding a football in one hand and his school books in the other. Ernie Davis was so much more than a football player. There have been countless number of more talented football players before him, and there have been countless number of more talented football players after him, but most of them don't have schools, community centers, and scholarships named after them.

Ernie Davis has been gone for over 40 years but still, he continues to help people.

Although Davis seemed to be out of this world – on the field and with his generosity –  he was all too human.  Following his graduation from Syracuse, with a degree in mathematics, he fell ill and upon hard times. He was diagnosed with leukemia.

In 1963, just two years after winning the Heisman, Ernie Davis passed away.  He never got the chance to follow Brown yet again, this time in the NFL.

John Mackey, Baltimore Colts Hall of Famer and teammate of Davis at Syracuse, tells the story of Davis' qualities. Mackey had asked a girl out on a date, but later had told Davis that he wouldn't go because he didn't have any money or a car.

Davis was shocked, "How can you make a promise and not keep it?" Mackey had spoke without thinking, but fortunately, like many times in his short life, Davis was there to save the day. Davis lent Mackey five dollars, his car, and a new sweater. The girl would later become Mrs. John Mackey. It might not seem like a lot, but when you do good deeds day in and day out for people, it adds up.

And that's what Ernie Davis did.  It didn't matter who you were or what your problem was, Ernie was there to help out.

Ernie Davis wasn't one for breaking promises. He wouldn't let Mackey break his promise, and he wouldn't let himself break his promise to the man who bestowed the Number 44 on him.

After following through on his promise to follow Jim Brown to Syracuse, he became the first African-American to win the Heisman Trophy in 1961.  He had accepted his number, then cemented his legacy.

He had followed through on a promise to the future. A promise to Archie Griffin, Desmond Howard, Reggie Bush – all future Heisman winners.

Just as Jim Brown broke down racial walls a half decade before him, Ernie Davis blazed a trail like he would blaze through a hole of tackle on the field.

There is something tragically romantic about a brilliant life that ends too soon. What more could Ernie Davis have done? Maybe he is so loved and revered because he never had the chance to disappoint us. He never had the chance to let us down. So much was expected of this great individual, it is hard to imagine anyone could live up to it. But today, we can still say, Ernie could have.

But Davis was never one to dwell on what might have been, or what could be. A man is measured by what he did, not what he could have done.

And Ernie himself said it best when he wrote a piece for The Saturday Evening Post:

"Some people say I am unlucky. I don't believe it. And I don't want to sound as if I am particularly brave or unusual. Sometimes I still get down, and sometimes I feel sorry for myself. Nobody is just one thing all the time. But when I look back I can't call myself unlucky. My 23rd birthday was December 14. In these years I have had more than most people get in a lifetime."

Ernie Davis, 1961 Heisman Trophy Winner, Man of Character.

So many people in this world try to be the perfect person; Ernie Davis came about as close as you get – and he did it effortlessly.

One thing is for sure: they don’t make ‘em like E.D. anymore.

Brian Gallagher can be reached at: brian.gallagher@atomicsportsmedia.com.