Refreshed Dillon answering the call

FOXBOROUGH -- It was just one more carry in a grinder of a career that has numbered more than 2,600 of them, in a game that already had been decided. But when Corey Dillon bulled his way past O.J. Simpson on the NFL's all-time yardage list in the regular-season finale at Tennessee, it was a symbolic milestone. "Corey will go down as a guy who's ahead of O.J.," says Patriots linebacker Rosevelt Colvin. "That's something he can look back on and cherish."

Dillon, whose 11,241 yards rank him 14th, literally has 4 more miles of running to catch leader Emmitt Smith (18,355), but he's gradually been banging his way up the ladder, passing the likes of Larry Csonka, Herschel Walker and Earl Campbell. Just ahead is John Riggins (11,352), the thumper-back supreme, and immortals like Jim Brown (12,312) and Tony Dorsett (12,739) are within collaring distance.

What everybody ahead of him has or likely will have in common is a bust in the Hall of Fame, up the road from where Dillon carried the hapless Bengals on his sturdy shoulders for seven barren years. For a man who craves acknowledgement and respect, induction would deliver both in bronze.

"That's why he deserves to be in the Hall of Fame," testifies Patriots defensive back Artrell Hawkins, who played six seasons with Dillon in Cincinnati. "Because he was the best player on a bad team for years."

The Bengals, who never made the playoffs when Dillon was there, were undeniably wretched for most of those years, going 34-78 with a 2-14, a 3-13 and two 4-12s in the mix. Yet in each of his first six seasons, Dillon gained more than 1,100 yards when everybody in the stadium knew he'd be lugging the ball. "Corey was the only Pro Bowler on our team," says Hawkins. "He was consistent week-in, week-out, year-in, year-out."

If the 32-year-old Dillon gets his ticket to Canton, he'll likely earn it for his body of work, which is remarkable for its quality and consistency. "I've always admired him, because he shows up and plays every Sunday," says Chargers coach Marty Schottenheimer, who knows he'll see No. 28 in the starting backfield in this afternoon's AFC playoff showdown in San Diego.

In his decade as a pro, Dillon has played in 150 of 160 regular-season games, starting 132 of them. "Very few missed games," observes quarterback Tom Brady. "As tough as can be. Practices hard, runs so hard. He's just a great teammate, a guy who puts everything he can into it each week."

Even when loss followed loss in Cincinnati, Dillon went to battle every Sunday and refused to point fingers. "Just look over his history and he's never thrown one of his teammates under the bus," says Hawkins. "When he's had problems, it's either been with management or the media. You're not going to find a teammate who doesn't like him and I've been his teammate the longest, so I know."

When Dillon arrived here in 2004, in exchange for the second-round draft pick that became Madieu Williams, he had a label as a bad actor, a malcontent. What he was malcontented about, the Patriots soon learned, was seven years of losing. Merely the prospect of more W's than L's on Route 1 quickly made Dillon a happy camper.

"It was a great lesson in getting to know someone, as opposed to believing the things that you read," says Jets coach Eric Mangini, who directed New England's defensive backs then. "He was a guy that I always had a good relationship with."

Dillon stepped in and stepped up that year, running away to his best campaign (1,635 yards and 12 touchdowns) and a Super Bowl ring. But the workload (a career-high 345 carries) was huge and it may well have contributed to last year's dramatic dropoff in production, when a banged-up Dillon, who missed four games, had only 209 carries for 733 yards.

Some observers figured it was age (which irked Dillon profoundly); others said it was the cumulative wear and tear from years of pounding. What's clear is that when rookie Laurence Maroney turned up this season to share the load, Dillon's numbers (a team-leading 812 yards and 13 touchdowns on just 199 carries) perked up noticeably.

"It's been good for him," says CBS analyst Phil Simms. "Corey's healthier, more dynamic. When I saw him last week I said, 'You're faster now than I ever remember you.' He kind of laughed like he thought I was taking a jab at him. But he's never felt this good late in the year. Sharing the load makes you eager and keeps you fresh, mentally and physically."

The rotation also has allowed the Patriots to present rival defenses with a nasty triumvirate to deal with. "You throw Maroney and Dillon and Kevin Faulk in there and you've got three guys that present problems," says Mangini, who watched them combine for more than 150 yards from scrimmage against his squad in last week's wild-card game. "It's fresh legs that can come in and really test you defensively."

Dillon scored the first touchdown on a 11-yard jaunt on the game's opening drive that set the tone for the day. "While he's effective at running inside, his speed lets him get to the edge and run it around the corner," says Schottenheimer.

Though he's no longer the dashman who scatted 96 yards against the Lions five years ago, Dillon still can burn it if given legroom -- his 50-yard romp against the Jets in their November meeting was the team's longest rush from scrimmage all year.

But his forte is still bruiseball, banging his way through the line. "He's almost like a running back playing linebacker," says linebacker Tully Banta-Cain. "He's not going down on first contact. He can move a pile."

Which is why Dillon usually gets the call when the Patriots absolutely have to move the chain or when they're within bulling distance of the end zone -- nine of his touchdowns this year have come from inside the 5, six of them from a yard out. "There's not many easy yards in the red area," says coach Bill Belichick.

The qualities that made Dillon the bell cow in Cincinnati haven't vanished. "He's strong, tough, durable, hard-to-tackle, pretty much out there every week," says Belichick. What has come over time is a working knowledge of the tricks of the running back's trade. "Corey has been learning every year that he's been playing," says Faulk. "Little things."

But the little things add up to yards -- patiently searching for cracks in the defensive line, changing direction abruptly like a ballet dancer avoiding a collision, churning and wriggling for extra inches even after he's been wrapped up.

"He makes a lot of yards on his own," says Belichick. "He does a good job of reading the blocks and getting what is there and then he does a good job of getting some extra yards with his balance, his toughness, his power, and his vision."

The difference now is that with Maroney handling nearly as many carries (175, with two missed games), Dillon doesn't have to do it 25 times a game. That may mean fewer 100-yard days (he had nine in 2004, none this season), but more yards per carry (4.1, up from 3.5 last year) and more pop in January.

"It's prolonged his career," says Simms. "Corey seems extremely happy with his role and he gets along with Maroney very well. They're not looking out of the corner of their eye at each other."

If there are job-related jealousies, they've been kept in-house. Maroney has been wearing the Patriots' usual rookie muzzle and Dillon, with rare exceptions, has been mum during a season in which his yardage has been greater than his verbiage. Among his teammates, though, Dillon is jocular and joshing, a weekend warrior who suits up without fail.

"He has been great to have around," says Brady. "I think all the guys who have been playing with him for the last three years, it's really been a privilege. You're playing with one of the greatest backs of all time."

His numbers make his case. With another season like this one, Dillon probably will pass Thurman Thomas, who's a Hall of Fame finalist this year. With two more, he'll leapfrog five more men to rank seventh. The question is whether that will be enough to get him to Canton.

"I had a couple of Hall of Fame voters say to me that one of the criteria they like to kick around was: At some point in your career, were you the best player at your position?" says CBS analyst Dan Dierdorf. "Were you so dominant that when people asked who was the best running back in the game, your name would have come up? I guess maybe that's one of the questions you need to ask about Corey Dillon."

Playing his prime years for a forgettable team across the river from Kentucky didn't help. It wasn't until Dillon turned 30 that he found himself surrounded by men with rings on their fingers who weren't asking him to be their Atlas. What they'll tell you is that there wouldn't have been a third ring without him. "He's a tremendous running back, and he's been so for 10 years," says Colvin.

If the NFL operated like the Hollywood academy, Dillon might get his bust for lifetime achievement. If he does get the call from Canton, at least five years after his playing days are done, he'll be the first Patriot running back to make it. "I would love for Corey to go to the Hall of Fame," says Colvin. "I might get an invitation to the ceremony. I definitely have an inside track."

John Powers can be reached at jpowers@globe.com.