Gene Upshaw was, without a doubt, one of the five or 10 most important men in the history of professional sports in America, and the news of his death late Wednesday has created a void in the National Football League that will be nearly impossible to fill.

To many of us in the media, Gene was also a friend and confidant, so perspective will be difficult to find in the immediate aftermath of his passing.

Gene was a great friend to me and to Pro Football Weekly from the day I took over this publication almost 30 years ago. On behalf of all of us at PFW, I offer our most heartfelt condolences to his wife and sons and their extended family.

Thanks to his many accomplishments on the field — which included 15 seasons with the Oakland and Los Angeles Raiders, a streak of 207 consecutive starts on the Raiders’ offensive line, seven Pro Bowl selections, two Super Bowl rings and induction into the Pro Football Hall Of Fame in 1987 in his first year of eligibility — Upshaw will be remembered as one of the greatest players of all time.

But it is his accomplishments in the boardrooms and halls of justice after his playing days were over as the executive director of the NFL Players Association that made him truly unique. With nothing more than a belief in fundamental fairness and justice and his iron will, he stood with his predecessor, Ed Garvey, and led his fellow players through the disastrous 57-day player strike of 1982. He also led the 24-day work stoppage of 1987 that nearly destroyed the players’ union and led to Upshaw’s decision to decertify the union in 1989.

That decision forced the NFL owners to grudgingly create the first version of free agency, Plan B. Then, followed by a string of legal victories that Upshaw orchestrated, the players eventually won true free agency and a guaranteed share of revenue with the Collective Bargaining Agreement of 1993.

Gene Upshaw

It is further testament to the man that the final CBA he negotiated in 2006 has been deemed so favorable to his rank and file that management elected to opt out of the agreement early and put at risk its greatest single asset and the envy of every other pro sports league in the world — the salary cap that has made the NFL’s incredible success possible.

A bit of time and space are essential at the moment to reasonably evaluate the impact of Upshaw’s passing. It was just five months ago that he vowed to all of us in the face of reports of a movement under way by some of his player representatives to replace him that he would never leave until a new CBA was in place.

We safely can assume now that he knew as he made that vow that the dreaded pancreatic cancer that took his life had already forced his next challenge on him. Yet, as in every other challenge he faced in his 63 years on Earth, quitting or failing were not options.

I have been blessed in my career to have more than a passing acquaintance with some of the giants of the game — men like George Halas, Pete Rozelle, Jim Finks, Walter Payton and others. As we all begin to grasp the meaning of Gene Upshaw’s loss, it is a great comfort to me to know that this man who gave me both friendship and respect before I really had earned either has now joined them in his rightful place in heaven and in the great history of the game.

For now, the image stuck in my mind is of Papa Bear Halas welcoming Upshaw to his well-earned place at the table of eternal grace with that devilish grin, “Welcome, kid. You sure shook ’em up!”