I TRY NOT to feel slighted when the MVP of Super Bowl XXV doesn't hug me on a chilly December afternoon at Met Life Stadium. Ottis "O.J." Anderson, 69, wraps his oak-tree-strong arms around former teammates, chefs, executives, and fans—but not me, not yet. I'm there to make a Hall of Fame case for my childhood hero.

The case is comically easy. When Anderson retired after 1992, he ranked eighth in rushing yards, seventh in rushing touchdowns, and ninth in yards from scrimmage. His 1979 rookie season: 1,605 rushing yards, Offensive Rookie of the Year. Over five seasons, 6,190 yards alongside legends like Campbell, Dickerson, Payton.

Traded to the Giants in 1986, he reinvented himself at 32: Comeback Player of the Year, 1,000+ yards, a punishing inside runner instead of the explosive outside back he'd been. At 34, 102 yards and a touchdown earned Super Bowl XXV MVP. "Two totally different careers," says George Martin.

Yet Anderson remains outside Canton. Voters cite: "never the best at his position in any given year" and "no signature run." As Peter King notes, "Fans don't praise you for Peyton Manning getting in. They yell because Roman Gabriel isn't." The selection process is a "highly subjective mess" hamstrung by rules.