When a bunch of guys get together to talk football usually all you need to keep everyone happy is pizza and beer. But, since it actually involves work, a successful fantasy football draft party has a few more important parts.

T.D. had 7,607 rushing yards — with 6,413 of those yards coming in his first four seasons, an average of 1,603.25 per season. In the fifth year — when he shredded his knee against the Jets — he had 211 yards in four games, an average of 52.75 a contest. I would assume that his numbers would have increased as the Broncos began to find some stability and a measure of success later that year, so let’s say for those final 12 games that year — during which the Broncos went 6-6 — he averaged 85 yards an outing. That would have given him 1,020 yards in games 5-16, and 1,231 for the year. Hypothetical career total after five seasons: 7,644 yards.

Denver’s offense was outstanding in 2000, and it showed in Mike Anderson’s performance — 1,487 yards and 5.0 yards per carry. A healthy T.D. probably has a similar season, maybe even slightly better, so I gave him 1,550 for the season. That takes his hypothetical tally to 9,194 yards.

In 2001, two years removed from the original knee injury, he still managed to rush for 701 yards — 4.2 per carry, which was 0.3 yards higher than the team average. One can only imagine that T.D.’s rush yardage and average per carry would have been significantly higher with full health — and that the team as a whole would have done better than its tally of 1,877 rushing yards for the season, which is the lowest this century to date. But given the 8-8 finish and the absence of Ed McCaffrey to take pressure off the run game, I assumed a slight decline for T.D. from 2001, down to 1,300 yards. That would still bring his hypothetical rushing yardage total to 10,494 yards after seven seasons, and presuming that he was still healthy in this “what if” scenario, he would have had at least two more big-time seasons in him, and possibly several more in which he was able to post respectable rushing totals — say, 750 to 1,050 yards — while platooning with a younger back.

Of course, 10,000 rushing yards is no longer an automatic ticket to the Hall of Fame. Every running back that finished his career before 1990 with at least 10,000 yards is enshrined. But two 10,000-yarders eligible for induction are not in the Hall — Ricky Watters and Ottis Anderson, the latter of whom wasn’t even a preliminary nominee for this year’s class. Other 10,000-yarders who will become eligible the next few years include Curtis Martin, Jerome Bettis, Corey Dillon, Tiki Barber, Eddie George and Edgerrin James. Then there are those who are close to the milestone — Fred Taylor, Warrick Dunn, LaDainian Tomlinson and Shaun Alexander could all realistically hit 10,000 this season. So it’s getting pretty crowded, and it’s hard to envision most of those guys getting in.

(My opinion: Martin, Bettis and Tomlinson all eventually make it in. Martin and Bettis are in the top five all-time leading rushers, a distinction difficult to ignore. James needs a renaissance this year and the others have more work to do.)

But back to T.D. …

I think in his case., 10,000 plus a league MVP plus a Super Bowl MVP plus a 2,000-yard season would have given him first-ballot status.

What makes Davis’ case such a conundrum for observers is that you really can’t assume what would have happened. A voter has to go by what is rather than could be. Another problem is that T.D.’s career doesn’t strike some observers as “spectacular,” which is a ludicrous criticism. OK, so he didn’t have a defining image like Earl Campbell having his jersey shred mid-carry against the Rams in ’78. (The jerseys of the ’90s and today are comprised of much more durable material and stitching.) He didn’t have an “immaculate reception.” He was just damn good. And, until that unfortunate day against the Jets, he was, for a moment, the best in the game, step for step with Hall of Famer Barry Sanders back in ’97 and ’98.

Outside of work, I make the same case for longtime Atlanta Braves (and shorttime Colorado Rockies) outfielder Dale Murphy to enter baseball’s Hall as I do for T.D. Yes, their careers lacked longevity, but for a time, they were the finest at what they did. They channeled greatness. Isn’t that what Hall of Fames are about — honoring greatness?

To me, that’s what T.D. achieved until fate intervened. It was a different kind of greatness than Gale Sayers, another back whose career was cut short by knee problems. Sayers devastated teams with blurring speed and moves; T.D. did the same with force, power and endurance.

The guy was the best all around running back I had ever laid eyes on. Better than E Smith, better than B Sanders…simply because he had the size to match his speed and escapability. He will forever be missed by all Bronco fans and each and every RB in the future will be compared to TD, much as each and every QB is compared to Elway.