Carl Eller a withering icon

A legion of admirers is offering support and concern for Carl Eller, the Vikings Hall of Fame defensive end many of them describe as an inherently gentle giant who, unfortunately, remains vulnerable to the demons that have tormented him as a substance abuser for too many of his 66 years.

There also is a fear among this inner circle that Eller is facing jail time because of his violent confrontation with police at his Minneapolis home on April 9. Eller was charged with fourth-degree assault and making terroristic threats, both felonies, and drunken driving and refusing to submit to a sobriety test, both gross misdemeanors. His hearing is Monday in Hennepin County District Court.

At least one sector of the public -- Mothers Against Drunk Driving -- is digging in opposite Eller. Concerned that a local sports icon might receive preferential treatment, MADD representatives are asking that people view Eller as a repeat offender. Eller pleaded guilty to fourth-degree drunken driving in 2006 and finished a two-year probation only two months before his latest arrest.

Eller has had other run-ins. He was accused of sexual assault in 1999, although no criminal charges were filed. Scott Mower, a local architect, sued Eller and two co-investors in 2006 over a failed restaurant project they worked on together. And Eller was riding his motorcycle Wednesday when he was stopped by Minneapolis police and cited for not having the proper license plate for people with past alcohol offenses.

Eller declined repeated requests to answer questions relating to his arrest and charges, but he did say he "appreciated the people who are supporting me through this." Local attorney Al Goins of Petry & Associates, which is representing Eller, declined an interview request.

The image and the man

Eller's reputation was built over the past 48 years in the Twin Cities. It has seen its share of disappointments but also includes many triumphs for the man many affectionately call "Moose." There was early stardom at the University of Minnesota and four Super Bowls with the Vikings. And then there was the most unlikely turnaround in which the admitted substance abuser became a successful drug counselor who worked for the state of Minnesota, ran his own rehab center, and even helped mold the NFL's current substance-abuse program by convincing then-Commissioner Pete Rozelle that the league had a problem.

Although Eller has not yet answered the charges pending against him, the complaint is another embarrassing blemish, at least temporarily, on his image.

"I don't know why the past sometimes comes back to haunt some people; I just know that it hurts to see a guy like Carl going through this," said former Vikings linebacker Matt Blair, who played with Eller for five seasons. "I feel along the way that he should have gotten help, or that he was told he was getting help, and it didn't work. Whatever happens, Carl is family. And it hurts worse for us because we know what kind of guy he can be, or is."

Eller grew up Winston-Salem, N.C. As a teenager, he turned to alcohol after his father died. Years later, Eller admitted to abusing alcohol since he was a teenager. He also admitted to having a cocaine habit and to being so consumed by drugs and depression following his trade to Seattle in 1979 that he considered suicide.

In 1980, Eller filed for bankruptcy. In 1981, he sought chemical dependency treatment at St. Mary's Rehabilitation Center in Minneapolis. From 1986 to 1994, his rehab center, Triumph Life Services, treated thousands of substance abusers.

In 2004, when he was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Eller told the Star Tribune he had been sober since 1981. Eller quickly turned his induction speech in Canton, Ohio, into a message for young at-risk black males, saying: "I know that we must give young African-American men a message that will lead them in a different direction than many are headed to today. I want that direction to be headed toward the great universities and colleges of our nation, not prison and jail cells."

Defying his words

Today, according to the complaint filed against Eller, he faces five years in jail and/or a $10,000 fine for the charge of making terroristic threats; three years and/or $6,000 for the charge of fourth-degree assault; and up to a year apiece and smaller fines on the two gross misdemeanors.

According to the complaint:

• Minneapolis police saw Eller in a Mercedes SUV speeding westbound on 8th Avenue N. and ignoring a stop sign at about 1 a.m. Once the marked squad car approached, Eller swerved toward the police vehicle, missing it by inches. He then led police on a high-speed chase before pulling into his driveway and refusing to get out of his car. Eller pulled into his garage, tried to enter his home and became combative when two officers tried to stop him. He told them, "I'm going to kick your ass if you don't let me go" and threatened to kill them.

• Eller threw one officer onto the hood of Eller's car and punched the other officer in the face. Initial attempts to subdue Eller with a Taser gun did not work, but he finally was subdued after officers called for help. Police also said they detected a "strong odor of alcoholic beverages" on Eller.

Former Vikings linebacker Jeff Siemon, who played with Eller for seven seasons and is now a director for Edina-based Search Ministries, said the charges in the complaint stand in distinct contrast to the Eller he says "has always had a genteel spirit, a gentle giant ... who never got cross with anybody, except maybe on the football field." If the charges hold up, Siemon said he knows where to place the blame.

"I think it goes back to anybody who has had a problem with alcohol or drugs, knowing the almost schizophrenic personalities," Siemon said. "I don't mean that technically. I mean that people become something apart from their native personality. My mother had a drinking problem. She became quite a different person when she drank. I suspect that's the case with Carl as well."

If Eller decides he needs help, he doesn't have far to reach, say former teammates and the current Vikings regime.

"Carl Eller is part of the Vikings family," said Kevin Warren, vice president of operations/legal counsel. "He has meant a lot to this organization for many years. We respect his privacy and we understand the magnitude of the charges that are pending against Carl. We have reached out to him and let him know that we are here for him in any possible way that we can assist him."

Joe Horrigan, Pro Football Hall of Fame vice president of communications/exhibits, said Eller is "a very good friend of the Hall of Fame and will remain a very good friend of the Hall of Fame." Horrigan also said there is no provision in the Hall's bylaws that allows them to remove a Hall of Famer for any reason.

Fallen hero

Not everyone is as sympathetic.

Diane Homa, a victim advocate for MADD, said Eller must be treated sternly as a repeat drunken driver. In his 2006 drunken-driving arrest, Eller was stopped by state police after being clocked going 97 miles per hour on westbound Interstate Hwy. 394.

"Drunk driving needs to be taken more seriously," Homa said. "People are out there reoffending after they kill people while driving drunk. The only good news is Carl Eller hasn't hurt anybody ... so far."

Two police officers were injured in the April 9 incident. In a news conference the following day, Inspector Mike Martin said: "They were in distress ... you could hear them screaming on the tape, 'We need another car here! We need help here!'

"This was a guy who was a hero to many guys on the department. And now to have him put them in a position of defending themselves and having to arrest him, it's disappointing to the officers."

Mower, the local architect who sued Eller and two co-investors, said, "I almost feel sorry for the guy now ... well, almost."

In 2003, Mower's small St. Paul firm, Progressive Architecture, was hired by local businessmen Gary Carlson, Richard Ivance and Eller to begin drawings for what was going to be the "Purple People Eatery," an upscale restaurant at the Mall of America. With no advance payment, Mower claims his firm did more than $100,000 worth of work because he trusted the financial strength of Ivance, a retired orthopedist, and Eller's reputation.

"I grew up in Wisconsin, and I'm a Packers fan, but when we had that first meeting, I was really excited," Mower said. "I was excited about the project, but I also was excited to meet and shake the hand of Carl Eller, Hall of Famer."

Mower's awe became anger when, he claims, he wasn't paid. He had to lay off his three employees and nearly went bankrupt, professionally and personally. Finally, in 2006, he sued for $130,000 in damages.

"I eventually got some money out of them, but my attorney fees were within $500 of what I got," Mower said. "It was awful."

Still teammates

Eller's former teammates show no signs of abandoning him or his family. They adore Eller's mother, whom they still call "Mrs. Moose." Many of them will attend Eller's daughter's wedding next month. And every so often, Eller and fellow legendary defensive linemates Jim Marshall and Alan Page meet for lunch. Page, a Hall of Famer and associate justice of the Minnesota Supreme Court, usually picks a small restaurant off the beaten path.

"Carl and I talk regularly and we remain very close," Marshall said. "I don't want to comment any more than to say he will always be my close friend."

The feeling was shared by former Vikings running back Chuck Foreman, who said, "Hey, nobody is perfect, and if anybody can turn this into a positive, it's Carl Eller."

"Carl knows that we all love him and support him," added former Vikings defensive end Bob Lurtsema, who played with Eller for six seasons. "I feel he shouldn't have crossed that line and punched out an officer. But he knows he can turn to any of us. We've all made mistakes. My goodness. Every one of us has."

Blair, who runs Matt Blair's Celebrity Promotions Inc., said Eller is good about showing up at charitable functions when asked by his friends to do so. He appeared at Blair's fundraiser for the Salvation Army in mid-February. But later that month, he was a no-show after agreeing to introduce members of the famed Tuskegee Airmen to a group of high school students in honor of Black History Month.

It was out of character for Eller, friends say. So were the events of April 9.

"We all have those personal demons and, sooner or later, they will come out of the closet and test you," Blair said. "This is a life lesson for everybody, that if you have a problem, you need to get it taken care of. It's something that Carl has to get treated. He won't tell you that, but now that it's come out in the open, maybe he realizes he does need to get treated. Maybe there's a reason for him getting caught like this."

Even those who are taking a wait-and-see approach as Eller's case unfolds admit Eller should have used better judgment.

"We'll have to see what happens," Siemon said. "But regardless of what the whole truth of it was, I'm sure that's a night Carl would like to do over again."