Colts wide receiver Marvin Harrison has had plenty of success on the field during his 11-year career, but the future Hall of Famer's impressive resume lacks a Super Bowl ring. Harrison will have a chance to wrap his reliable hands around an NFL title Sunday when Indianapolis faces the Chicago Bears in Super Bowl XLI at Dolphin Stadium in Miami. Photos by The Associated Press. Indianapolis wide receiver Marvin Harrison has had a Hall of Fame career thus far with the Colts. Harrison was the fastest NFL receiver to reach 600, 700, 800 and 900 receptions. He is presently fourth on the all-time receptions list with 1,022.

MIAMI -- Tastykake is a brand of snack food manufactured in Philadelphia, a collection of desserts diverse in types and taste. There are pies and doughnuts and cupcakes and honey buns. Marvin Harrison can't get enough of them.

Congratulations. You now know as much about one of the greatest wide receivers in NFL history as anyone.

There is more talking at the Super Bowl than at a preachers' convention. People can't stop yapping. There are press conferences for pregame shows and halftime shows and healthy eating habits (you can guess the odds of any sportswriter attending that one) and cell phone carriers and soup companies. Athletes -- the ones not playing in the game -- are the most obvious. They walk (or, more specifically, are directed by their publicist) from one interview to the next. They crave attention like a middle child. Harrison craves it like a bad cold.

"Marvin has been like this forever," Indianapolis receiver Reggie Wayne said. "Watch him. Watch him on film. Watch him in practice. Watch him in games. He is a 'Watch me' type of player and leader. Not vocal at all. A Hall of Famer doing it the right way."

You would wear yourself out searching for a reason why such an incredible player such as Harrison has spent his entire 11-year career hidden in such an impenetrable shell. The short answer is that there is no answer. The long answer is the same. To quote that renowned orator and lover of semiautomatic weapons, Tank Johnson: "It is what it is."

It is like this with Harrison: Indianapolis plays Chicago in Super Bowl XLI at Dolphin Stadium on Sunday and one of countless edges the Colts seemingly own is the guy who almost always gets open against defenses that specifically scheme to prevent him from getting open -- the guy who makes an Amish farmer seem animated while playing a position that has produced some of the sport's greatest trash-talkers and end-zone revelers.

Harrison is the eraser to Terrell Owens' Sharpie, the slow walk to Chad Johnson's River Dance, the whisper to Joe Horn's cell call. He is a sense of calm amid all the buffoonery.

"I probably know Marvin's mother better than I know him," Colts coach Tony Dungy once said, "and I've probably talked to his mother four times."

Comparing players from different eras always bores me. It's the same with ranking them in order of worth. Proving one's legacy should be accomplished over years of consistent production, not determined by the same sanctimonious lot that somehow decides Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken aren't unanimous Hall of Fame picks.

Wide receivers play in different systems and are thrown balls by different quarterbacks. Raw numbers are the only sensible way to evaluate any of them. If you're great, the stats bear it out. Harrison is beyond great.

He was the fastest NFL wideout to reach 600 receptions and the fastest to 700 and 800 and 900. He had more catches (927) in his first 10 seasons than anyone in history.

He holds every conceivable team receiving record (and probably some they haven't even determined yet) and his 1,022 career catches rank fourth all time.

If you have an hour or six, I could tell you all about the records Harrison has combined to set with quarterback Peyton Manning.

The only thing that really has escaped Harrison is, as with most of the Colts, serious playoff success. In 13 postseason games, Harrison has 55 receptions for 777 yards and two touchdowns, amazing for a player who has reached the end zone 122 times, third only to Jerry Rice and Cris Carter. But that can change Sunday. A ring can do wonders for developing that legacy.

But the outcome won't change Harrison's place among the select company of Rice and Carter and Tim Brown and Henry Ellard and Steve Largent.

He has stood in the same room with them for some time now, which is pretty darn significant.

"When you do things, you should do them with class, be it on the field or off it or just checking into a hotel," Harrison said. "It's how I try to carry myself. I don't bring swagger to the game. I bring energy and determination and a competitive nature. I'm just being myself, not something I'm not.

"I don't need to be famous. At the end of the day, I just want my teammates to know I was a great player."

It might be the only thing they know about him. That, and the fact he loves Tastykake.

Ed Graney's column is published Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.