While Terrell Davis is mulling his NFL future, we can ponder what he has meant to the game. He is trying to put his career in perspective -- and so are we.

	Terrell Davis rushed for 701 yards in eight games in 2001.

Hence the question: Is Davis a Hall of Famer?

To answer the question, maybe he should be judged in the same way as Gale Sayers, another player whose career was cut short by injury. Sayers only played five great seasons. He rushed for only 4,956 career yards, numbers that at the time were dwarfed by Jim Brown. He never earned a championship ring, or even played in a league championship game.

But I believe the Hall of Fame voters factored in what Sayers could have been, what the injuries prevented him from doing. People romanticize about Sayers more now because of the movie "Brian's Song," but he was the greatest runner I've ever seen on a football field, even better than Barry Sanders. He was a one-man offense for the Bears, running and catching the ball, taking back punts and kicks, and even throwing the ball at times. Sayers was a complete football player and became the youngest player ever elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

What is different about Davis, who played four great seasons? He had a better career than Sayers did, but he is not held in the same regard. Is that fair to Davis?

The 6,413 yards he gained during his first four seasons were the second highest four-year total in league history. Davis won two Super Bowl rings, was named both league and Super Bowl MVP and is one of only four players to gain 2,000 yards in a season. The other three -- Eric Dickerson, Sanders and O.J. Simpson -- are either in the Hall of Fame or will be.

Like Sayers, Davis must be evaluated based on potential as well as production. And if he is, Davis will someday be enshrined with Sayers in Canton.

The Pro Football Hall of Fame is different from baseball's Hall in that being elected is less predicated on longevity and numbers. But the NFL is starting to become more numbers conscious, now that Emmitt Smith is approaching Walter Payton's all-time rushing record of 16,726 yards and both Jerome Bettis and Ricky Watters have rushed for more than 10,000 yards. But does passing the 10,000-yard mark make them Hall of Famers? I don't think it's automatic, much like 500 home runs may no longer guarantee induction to Cooperstown.

Sandy Koufax's career was brief, compared to other Hall of Fame pitchers. But he dominated baseball for six years and was considered the game's best pitcher. He was not a borderline Hall of Fame choice. Meanwhile, although people say it's all about longevity and durability, Don Sutton almost had to beg to get into the Hall of Fame. It was the same for Phil Niekro. And both of them were 300-game winners.

Decisions will have to be made on Harold Baines, Fred McGriff and Rafael Palmeiro, players who will finish with great numbers. But are they Hall of Famers? While some players make a splash, like Koufax did, others just stay in the water for a long time.

Davis' case is more like Koufax. He was the best running back in football for at least two years. Remember that the Broncos -- and future Hall of Famer John Elway -- never won a Super Bowl until Davis arrived. He was the missing ingredient, and his presence impacted both the team and the NFL.

How important was winning two Super Bowls? Payton and Brown won one NFL championship each. Sanders, Dickerson and Simpson won none. Only six Hall of Fame running backs have ever won two or more NFL titles -- Larry Csonka, Franco Harris, Paul Hornung, Lenny Moore, Jim Taylor and Doak Walker. Davis would be the seventh.

Had Davis not sustained any serious injuries, he would have ended up with more than 10,000 yards, as Bettis and Watters have. He could have gained more than 12,000. But when the career span of a running back is less than four years, the least among all positions, how can anyone expect more from Davis than four great years? How many years does a running back need? All it takes is one play to end a career. Look at Bo Jackson, whose hip was injured -- and career was ended -- on one tackle.

Elway recently told me we would never see the old Davis again. And he is right. Davis, with hobbled knees at only 29, is coming to grips with his career and whether or not he should continue. If he doesn't, the debate will rage over Davis' place among the NFL's immortals.

If one invokes what we can call "the Gale Sayers exception" -- a brilliant career cut short by injury -- then Davis has already run enough.