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Tales of his football prowess echo loudly, like William Wallace hyperbole.

Adrian Peterson could have turned pro out of high school.

Yes, I've heard. He had NASCAR speed and mutant strength. He never lost a footrace. His handshake crumbled metacarpals like chalk. His glycogen stores defied human anatomy. If a flood engulfed the field, he'd say, "Let's play the game in the parking lot." He became the top player the second he stepped foot on campus in Norman, Oklahoma, and the National Football League's single-game rushing leader by his fifth start. Peterson blew out his knee on Christmas Eve in 2011 but initiated a 2,000-yard voyage 260 days later and claimed the MVP award that season. No one at his position has won it since. His face graces the Mount Rushmores immortalizing Texas high school football, college and NFL running backs.

"He literally put the fear of God into your defense," said former Vikings fullback Jerome Felton, who lead-blocked for hundreds of Peterson's 2,097 yards in 2012. "He had it all. He could run around you. He could run through you. He could shake you. Like, how in the world is anyone supposed to tackle this guy?

"My first impression of him was just seeing him do things that coming off an ACL [injury], you would have never thought were possible," added Felton, who recalled being flabbergasted in the weight room after a practice while people gawked at Peterson. "He was box jumping with 225 on a barbell on his back. I've never even seen anybody try to do that before, and he was doing it. You just clearly saw from the get-go, he was a freak, and they don't make guys like that. There can be guys who are good at football. But there's some people who are just — it was meant to be. And he was one of those people."

Far more factual than fictitious, anecdotes of Peterson go on "All Day," breathing life into his nickname.

A.D. is formally being honored as the 29^th member of the Minnesota Vikings Ring of Honor on Nov. 9 this season, and his first-ballot induction into the 2027 Pro Football Hall of Fame class ought to be automatic.

Coming up on five years since his final NFL game, and a decade gone from playing for the Purple, the consensus on Peterson's football career is that it was different — he was different — from the start to the finish.

"I'm trying to sum it up in a couple words here, what his football legacy would be," said Jared Allen, the Pro Football Hall of Fame defensive end (Class of 2025) who joined the Vikings Ring of Honor in 2022.

"Clearly, running the football," Allen said with a Texas-sized laugh.

"He's one of those rare backs that was tough and elusive — run through you, run past you, it didn't matter," he added. "So I think when you look at it, it's going to be his running style, how he ran the ball."

Peterson ran it like Secretariat, the American superhorse and 1973 Triple Crown champion who won the Belmont Stakes by 31 lengths. Allen and others referred to Peterson's top gear as a "gallop." Allen said, "That was our thing," after Walt Disney Pictures released its 2010 biopic of the thoroughbred racehorse.

"He would just kind of dig, and his head would come down, and you're like, 'This dude is churning. I think he's trying to kill the surface below his feet.' "

His style is inimitable, but it's not the sole part of Peterson's legacy deemed unforgettable. So is his spirit, and the passion he exhibited. And so is his altruism, which brilliantly contrasted what he did to defenses.

More than once, A.D. reacted to adversity with a magnanimous mentality.

His father Nelson and sister Nelsha were sitting in the stands when the worst injury of his 15-year NFL career happened. Nelson knew the injury was significant because Adrian didn't spring to his feet like he did typically — even after big collisions. Later, in the locker room, Adrian was emotional but composed.

"During that conversation, he said, 'Oh, Daddy.' I said, what? He said, 'Can you go out there? There's a kid in the stands that I told I would sign his jersey after the game. Go out there and get that jersey for me and bring it in here so I can sign it,' " Nelson recalled. "And to me, that showed the type of person that he is, dealing with this devastating injury where he's going to be out and have to have this major surgery."

Nelson attributed Adrian's generosity to his upbringing.

"One of the things that we always talked about was how the fans make the player," Nelson said. "You do what you do training-wise, I say, but these people spend their hard-earned money to come see you, believe in you, support you and vote for you."

That discernment explains Peterson's humility. Other accounts, stretching back to his promising youth, then his rise to stardom and confirmation of it, and then his peak, speak to his mystique, his pure talent.

Once, Peterson was the last person off Oklahoma's team bus at the Fiesta Bowl. Tackle Trent Williams was the second-to-last, and Peterson called for him with a dip in his lip as he filed off. Williams turned around. Peterson peered through his eyes and into his soul and asked him, "Are you ready?"

"At that time, I was a freshman, the season got long, I'm really just ready to go home. I kind of lost my fire, you know, it's my first college season, I'm homesick," Williams recalled. "So I said I was ready but, you know, I was more ready to go home, man. And I don't know if it was his way of firing people up, but he slapped me like I had a helmet on. Obviously, I didn't have a helmet on. He's like, 'Are you sure you're ready?!' … I went straight to the bathroom. I had a little babyface — no beard — so I [could] kind of see it, and my face [was] a little red."

Peterson's intensity was as riveting as his headbob that caused defenders to bite their tongues in the open field. Williams realized how much suiting up one more time for the Sooners meant to Peterson — how amped he was to play for the first time in almost three months. "I was caught in his rapture," he laughed.

Once in 2003, one of Peterson's youth coaches and friend, Steve Eudey, tagged along to witness the 18-year-old be presented by the Touchdown Club of Columbus as the National High School Player of the Year. Peterson was an inexperienced flyer, and the adventure to Ohio proved he was wet behind the ears.

"The day that we're supposed to leave, I get a phone call," Eudey shared. Apologetically, Peterson said, " 'Steve, I can't find my driver's license.' I said, 'Dude, what? That's not going to work. You've got to find it!' He said, 'I've looked; I don't know where it's at.' So I go — I don't remember the name of the place, Kinko's or Office Depot — and take a photo. I make what looks like a school ID with his photo on it. …

"I'm thinking maybe this'll work," Eudey laughed. "So we get to the airport and we're going through security, and I'm nervous. I'm always nervous. He's never nervous. We get to the security guard, and he looks right at Adrian and he says, 'Hey, you're that Peterson kid, aren't ya?' And Adrian said, 'Yes sir,' and he said, 'Well c'mon, let's go.' He never even looked at the ID. I'm like, I swear, only Adrian could do this."

Peterson's college recruitment in the unassuming East Texas town of Palestine was bedlam and during the dawn of social media. The entire Longhorns staff attended practice one day. On another, three of the previous four National Championship-winning coaches — Pete Carroll, Bob Stoops and Larry Coker — wrestled with words in the school lobby to negotiate which program would get to visit Peterson's home first. Many days, Palestine Head Coach Jeff Harrell's secretary covered half or more of his office door with Post-It notes of people to call back — just within the one hour that he was away teaching athletics class.

"I used to come home and tell my wife 'I got this kid. I've never seen anything like it.' And then eventually, we'd talk and I'd go, 'You know, I don't think anybody's seen anything like this,' " Harrell said.

The way it was framed by Williams, who was starstruck by Peterson, his muscle content, the rate at which he ate up the straightaway, the oohs and ahhs every step, when they first met on the infield of a track meet when Williams was a sophomore at Longview High School, is perfect and from a peerless source.

"I realized that God makes different breeds out here," he said.

A.D. was "something just unexplainable."

Part I: East Texas Legend | Part II: Oklahoma Sooners Phenom | Part III: Minnesota Vikings Legacy

Writer's note: Reporting on Peterson's epic football journey — doing my best to capture his greatness — was a big undertaking, and a special one to me because A.D. is one of the players who influenced my athletic youth. I loved the way he ran, smashing and gassing defenses in his 2-8 jersey (specifically with yellow trim around the collar). Now, I'm amazed by his love for the game and the respect and unbridled passion with which he played. His skills, obviously, were extraordinary. I interviewed 30-plus people with a front-row seat to A.D., in addition to sitting with Adrian's father, Nelson, for a half hour when he visited TCO Performance Center. Each person shared information that convinced me of something I always felt to be true: Peterson is one of a kind. Although the insights were too expansive to fit them all into this format, I owe each source a heartfelt shoutout for their time, so I want to extend a special thanks to the following people who had a hand in or witnessed Peterson's legend. Their reminiscence ensures that the memory of A.D. as a Palestine Wildcat, Oklahoma Sooner and Minnesota Viking will live for generations.

From April-October, I enjoyed speaking with Kyle & Roger Adams, Jared Allen, Tommy Allison, Darrell Bevell, Jammal Brown, David Cummings, Alonzo Dotson, Steve Eudey, Heath Farwell, Jerome Felton, Brandon Fusco, Cale Gundy, Jeff Harrell, Clint Ingram, Malcolm Kelly, Tom Lemming, Phil Loadholt, Curtis Lofton, Bryant McKinnie, Roddrick Muckelroy, Allen Patrick, David Robinson, Brian Robison, Harrison Smith, John Sullivan, Berry Tramel, Bobby Wade, Marcus Walker, Trent Williams and Carlos Wilson.