Linebacker Nick Buoniconti may be the most well-known name on Miami’s defensive unit from ’72, but that’s not saying much. There weren’t any big, flashy, loudmouth players on the defensive side of the ball as is common today; it was a squad that kept their heads down, largely avoided the limelight, and quietly went about the business of smacking the snot out of opposing offenses. Such was the D’s lack of starpower that it became known as the “No-Name Defense” — but if the fans didn’t know their names, offensive players around the league certainly did.

Buoniconti stayed pretty busy after retirement, appearing in commercials (including an ingenious variation of the Miller Lite “Do you know me?” campaign taking full advantage of the whole No-Name thing) and on HBO’s Inside the NFL. But he’s made headlines more recently for a really, really unfortunate reason: like many members of the ’72 Dolphins squad, he’s experienced serious issues with cognitive decline in recent years. The troubles began in his mid-50s; now in his 70s, he’s been compelled to speak out in light of the recent wave of publicity surrounding the dreaded CTE, a loss of cognitive function caused by repeated blows to head which affects a significant number of NFL players. “At 55 I was very normal,” he says. “I’m not normal anymore … I feel lost.” True to form, however, he continues to fight.

The career of offensive lineman Larry Little began when he was signed as an undrafted free agent by the San Diego Chargers in 1967 and wound up with two Super Bowl rings and a Hall of Fame induction. The bruising guard was the lead blocker on Miami’s nearly unstoppable sweep plays, and for a shorter lineman (at 6’1″), he was also pretty adept at swatting down passes. He was a five-time Pro Bowler, was selected as the AFC’s Offensive Lineman of the Year three freaking times, and only missed four games due to injury during his 11 seasons with Miami — in other words, he was the consummate badass, and he’s fond of letting aspiring NFL stars know that you don’t have to go high in the draft, or even get picked at all, to be great.

“Every year, I talk to the Dolphins rookies who come in,” Little said in one interview. “There are a lot of undrafted free agents in that room, too.” He reminds them that of the 17 players the Chargers picked in the draft in ’67, only two were still in the league five years later — while he, who signed to the team for a paltry $750 bonus, has a bust in Canton. “I tell those guys, ‘Just because you’re a free agent, that doesn’t mean you won’t be good enough to play in this league. … I made my way all the way to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.”

Offensive tackle Norm Evans has an interesting legacy outside of his ten seasons with Miami: he was picked in the 1976 expansion draft to become the first to ever play the position for the Seattle Seahawks, staying there for three seasons and helping establish the team which, at the time, stunk. Badly. “Truth was, we weren’t very good,” Evans said, generously, in an interview with the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. “But it was fun to play here.”

The ’70s Hawks didn’t exactly live up to the standard of excellence Evans was used to, but during his Miami years, he was another crushing standout on the offensive line (you may see a theme developing here), who played in all three of the Fins’ Super Bowl appearances and was selected to two Pro Bowls. Since the ’80s, he’s been helping to spread the word o’ the Lord to NFL players through Pro Athletes Outreach, an organization he presided over for 26 years. But he’s not all about the love; he admits to being pretty psyched when the Giants took out those ’07 Patriots in the Super Bowl. “Absolutely, I’m as selfish as the next guy,” he says. “I’m a closet Giants fan.”

When children to go bed at night, they look under their beds for the boogeyman; when New England Patriots head coach Bill Belichick goes to bed at night, he checks under his bed for Don Shula. Belichick is an insanely driven man, and his failure to match Miami’s perfect season has got to stick in his craw — but on top of that, Shula owns the NFL’s all-time win record, and it’s not close. The Pats’ mastermind would need a good five or six more stellar seasons to even hope to catch up.

Shula is still vice chairman of the Dolphins’ board of directors, which makes perfect sense — Mr. Dolphin coached the team for 25 freaking years, took no fewer than three quarterbacks to the Super Bowl during his career, and racked up his eye-watering 347 wins largely during an era when there were fewer games per season. Today, he deals with the same nagging health issues any 90-year-old would, but his retirement has consisted largely of chillin’ out and enjoying the weather in Florida, where a chain of successful steakhouses can be found bearing his name. Hopefully he’ll be around awhile longer to inspire future generations of coaches, but Don Shula is nothing if not prepared. Smart money says he’s long since made arrangements to have “EAT IT, BELICHICK” engraved on his tombstone, but we’ll have to wait and see.