He was the bricklayer's son with the hands of a craftsman and the heart of a poet. He was driven by the fear of failure, motivated by the joy of success, figuratively always looking behind him to stay in front of those who literally never could catch him.

From the line of scrimmage to the goal line there may never have been a more productive offensive player than Jerry Rice, who came to the San Francisco 49ers from the dirt roads and self-doubt of rural Mississippi and for years never missed a game and rarely missed a pass.

His work ethic was the equal of his skill, and together they merged to enable Rice to construct a resume which was unprecedented and so impressive former 49er teammate Dwight Clark, said, "I used to think he was the best receiver I've ever seen. Now I think he's probably the best football player I've ever seen."

Voters for the Pro Football Hall of Fame don't have to agree that Rice was the finest ever, just, when the finalists are considered Saturday, good enough to be elected in this Rice's first season of eligibility.

And surely they will. If there's ever been a Hall of Famer, it's Jerry Rice.

In his 20 seasons, the first 16 with the 49ers, the next three and a half with the Oakland Raiders, finally in 2004 the other half with the Seattle Seahawks, Rice broke virtually every touchdown and reception record imaginable until at age 42 he grudgingly said farewell to the game that had been his life.

The subplots of the Rice story are almost as remarkable as his performance. How as a teenager he worked for his father, catching bricks tossed his way. How he became part of a big-time offense at a very small school, Mississippi Valley State.

How he was discovered by Niners coach Bill Walsh watching highlights on television in Houston on a Saturday night. How Walsh traded up to the 16th pick in the first round of the 1985 draft to get him. How he was so distraught as a rookie he broke down and cried. And, of course, how he evolved into a star.

The hands. Huge, Coordinated. "They're just a gift," said Gloster Richardson, a one-time NFL receiver who worked with Rice in college. The hands. In time they became so valuable, so famous, they were molded in bronze and put on display.

"He can catch a BB on a dead run at night," insisted Archie Cooley, Rice's coach at Mississippi Valley.

The determination. Obsessive. Rice would run out every play in practice. During the offseason, he would run up hills on the San Francisco peninsula. "His mental preparation," said Bill Callahan, Rice's coach for a year with the Raiders, "is so strong, it's like an armored truck."

Rice's struggle as a rookie, dropping balls, ended on December 10, 1985 when he caught 10 passes for 241 yards against the then Los Angeles Rams, a 49ers record. "I knew then," he said, "I was on my way."

On his way to three Super Bowl victories, one, XXIII in January 1989 against the Cincinnati Bengals, in which he was named Most Valuable Player; on his way to 1,549 receptions for 22,895 yards, 7,961 ahead of the man in second, Tim Brown; on his way to 207 touchdowns.

Rice said during his career because he didn't play for a major university his talent had been unappreciated. He didn't get mad, he got even. He showed the teams who bypassed him in the draft what they might have had. And what the 49ers did have.

"I feel like I have to prove myself every year," Rice said, even after he gained recognition.

He did exactly that. While others timed faster, Rice had what Walsh called "functional speed," a virtue obvious when Jerry caught short passes from Joe Montana or Steve Young and then sped away from defenders.

Once so shy Rice was afraid to meet the media when for the first time he got off a plane in San Francisco, Jerry grew as a person as he did as a player.

He took speech lessons from the late Sylvester Jackson, a radio announcer. He does sports commentary on a Bay Area television station. And he also took part in the ABC series "Dancing with the Stars."

Rejoining the 49ers for a day in 2006, Rice had his jersey retired that season in ceremonies during halftime of a game at Candlestick Park. "I love you guys," he told the fans. "I had prepared a speech, but I'm going to talk to you from the heart."

Which, as we know, was way he played. From the heart.