JERSEY CITY, N.J. -- The man who scored the most famous touchdown in New York Jets history works by himself in a decaying brick building on a gritty residential street. Anyone on the sidewalk can look inside because there's an open garage, blocked by a chain-link fence. You can see two 1970s cars -- a silver Corvette Stingray and a royal-blue Cadillac with a white roof and a "For Sale" sign in the windshield. You can hear classical music coming from the garage, not the soundtrack you'd expect in such a dingy setting.

Time stopped here 40 years ago -- or at least that's how it appeared when a reporter showed up Wednesday, looking to solve the Matt Snell mystery. The former great, who moved like a Vette and styled like a Caddy when he played running back in the 1960s and 70s, cut ties long ago with his former team and his former teammates. The estranged Snell harbors a 30-year grudge, maybe longer, and no one seems to know why.

In 10 days, the Jets are planning to induct Snell and his longtime backfield partner, Emerson Boozer, into the Ring of Honor during at halftime ceremony at MetLife Stadium. Snell lives only 10 miles from the stadium, but from all indications, it'll be a one-back formation at midfield. The organization has been trying for weeks -- no, months -- to contact him, to find out if one of their Super Bowl III heroes will attend. The response?

Crickets.

On Wednesday, Snell, 74, emerged from the shadows in his garage to check on a stranger who was calling for him at the chain-link fence. The old man, wearing a blue hoodie with an Olympic logo over his heart, was in cranky mood, leaving no doubt about his intentions. He wants no part of the Jets. There's no chance he will show up next Sunday.

"I don't want anything to do with them," he snapped at the reporter.

"Why? You were such a great player. No one understands why ..."

"That's right, you don't understand," Snell said. "You don't understand because you've never walked in my shoes, OK? Just leave it alone and write your story about Emerson and let him have a good time, let him enjoy himself, OK?"

"So you won't attend?"

"No," he barked. "I'll see you later."

If he were standing in front of a door, he would've slammed it. The balding man, a shriveled-up version of the 6-foot-2, 220-pound hulk who mashed linebackers on Sundays, turned and walked away from the fence, disappearing into the shadows again as a piano concerto echoed in the building that houses his construction business in Jersey City, New Jersey.

It was sad.

On Jan. 12, 1969, Snell rushed for 121 yards and scored New York's only touchdown in the Jets' stunning 16-7 upset of the Baltimore Colts. Some feel he deserved to be the Super Bowl MVP; the honor went to Joe Namath, who famously guaranteed the victory and calmly orchestrated the attack.

Snell and Boozer played seven years together, from 1966 to 1972, forming perhaps the most celebrated backfield in team history. Snell and Boozer. Boozer and Snell. They were always linked, and it's entirely fitting they're entering the Ring of Honor as a tandem.

"It would be special for me and special for him if we could be together, our last hurrah on a football field," Boozer said. "I'm looking forward to it. I'm hoping Matt reconsiders. It'll be our last time to see the fans and hear the applause."

The Jets are planning to honor Snell whether he shows up or not. Some wonder if his two children will come on his behalf. Their father already is being honored at the Jets' facility. A giant head shot of Snell is hanging on the wall in the team's field house, along with Boozer and the 15 previous honorees. Many of them will attend the Nov. 29 ceremony. So will members of the Super Bowl III team, a tightly knit group that gathers every year for a golf tournament in New Jersey.

"It's important to recognize both Matt Snell and Emerson Boozer, given their historical accomplishments and contributions to the New York Jets," team spokesman Bruce Speight said. "We are excited that Emerson will be on hand for the ceremony. We have extended the same invitation to Matt for what we are planning to be a fitting celebration of two great Jets."

Clearly, Snell believes he was wronged by the Jets, but how? There are a couple of theories floating around. Some former teammates say he felt snubbed by former owner Leon Hess, who purportedly reneged on a promise to give Snell a job in his oil company upon his retirement from football.

But Hess died in 1999. Would Snell carry the grudge this long?

Another theory: Snell was a season-ticket holder into the mid-1980s, when the Jets had moved to Giants Stadium, and he became miffed when the price of his four tickets was raised. Word has it that Snell called the ticket office, asking for a 10- to 20-percent reduction. The answer was no, and he surrendered his tickets.

But would he stay angry for 30 years because a mid-level guy in the ticket office gave him a hard time?

No one knows the real story, but there are a lot of hard feelings.

"I don't know how you could hate that much," said John Schmitt, the starting center in Super Bowl III. "Life is too short. I don't care if you don't like the organization -- that's his choice -- but to not want to be with your teammates? That's wrong. We're all getting up there in age. We don't know when we'll see each other again. I love the guy, but I feel bad for him. He should be there."

Boozer said the last time he spoke to Snell was about three years ago. That phone number no longer works. He doesn't expect to see his old friend next Sunday.

"You'd think he'd want to be part of something like that, and put his bitterness aside," Boozer said.

He'd have 70,000 people cheering for him. Few people on earth are lucky enough to experience something like that.

Snell will stay in the shadows, hanging out with his antique cars and listening to concert-hall music in his beat-up garage.