CHARLOTTE — When Luke Kuechly takes the stage next week in Canton, he'll be surrounded by the biggest names in football, right next to a Drew Brees or a Larry Fitzgerald or a Julius Peppers, and enter a world where he's in the same club as a Jim Brown or a Reggie White or a Joe Montana.

But back home, he's even more comfortable in the company of a Don Toner or a Claire Stokes or a Danny O'Toole.

Next week, he's going to be celebrated among the best to ever play the game, the biggest names football has ever known.

But when he had his first press conference back in Charlotte after he was named to the Class of 2026 in February, he chose to celebrate others. During that Zoom call, when asked about what stood out about his time here, he mentioned three of the most important people to him during his time with the Panthers.

Ron Rivera, Cam Newton, and Greg Olsen? Nope. Thomas Davis, Steve Smith, or Jordan Gross? Nope.

Luke Keuchly name-checked Greg Almond, Ryan Anderson, and Mike Anderson. Of course.

"I've got so many great friends that I made in the organization," Kuechly said to a group of reporters. "I got here, I turned 21 a week before the draft. So, when I got down here, I was a kid trying to figure everything out. And I think for me, there were a lot of younger people in the organization. I mean, Ryan Anderson, you guys all know Ryan. Ryan's a couple years older than I am, and he was my point guy with all of you, and I was so lucky to have a guy that was around my age. I was going through a lot of the same stuff. And Mike Anderson, his brother, was the same way. Greg Almond was one of our equipment guys who is still one of my really good friends to this day.

"I think that was a big, important factor to me, early on, was that there were younger people in the building that were just good dudes."

For the clarification of the rest of the world beyond the 200-person bubble of a football operation, Almond works part-time in the equipment room. The Anderson brothers, respectively, worked in public relations and on the football operations staff. These are the kinds of high-profile friends Luke Kuechly surrounds himself with, and is most comfortable around.

And the word they and everyone keep using to describe this legend is the most basic word ever — "Normal."

"He probably would hate that you're writing this article about it right now, right?" Mike Anderson said, and he may be right, but that's a chance we're willing to take. "He's a buddy of ours, so for his mind to go there in that moment is telling about who he is as a person. The thing with Luke is just that he has every right to have this ego, to have this way of carrying himself, and he just doesn't, right? He just wants to be your everyday normal guy, and it's all truly who he is too.

"With him, there's just no expectation that he should have anything special, though he should, and he's earned those things, right? He just wants to be one of the guys. He wants to blend in. That's the thing I would say with Luke. There's not an ulterior motive for him with why he treats everyone so well. He's not trying to gain anything out of it. It's just who he is."

And with every one of these normal people you talk about normal dude Luke Kuechly, they all have a version of the story about him doing things that are far from normal, because not everyone does them.

No one who works in football has just one job. So if you're in athletic training, you're passing out water during practice in addition to providing medical care, or if you're in IT, you might be helping film position drills in addition to making sure the computers work.

So when Mike Anderson was starting in football ops (the logistics service of a football team), he was also responsible for the Jugs machine during practice. It's a big, heavy device with an electrical cord trailing, and it sits on a dolly so you can get it on and off the field. It's not light.

"It was 2013 or 2014, and I was still on the Jugs machine, shooting kickoffs or punt drills," he said. "And the drill ends and then you're getting the Jugs off the field as quick as you can, right, getting it out of the way so they can get on with the next period of practice.

"And I remember one day. I was getting the Jugs off, and I'm pushing it. All of a sudden someone next to me starts helping me out. I look over, and it's Luke. And it's like he's coming off defensive rookie of the year or defensive player of the year, whatever it was, and here he is helping me push the Jugs off the field, right? That's just kind of an example of the guy he is."

Here's a picture of Luke helping Mike push a Jugs machine, being a normal guy.

They all have versions of this story.

Almond actually has several.

He's worked in the equipment room since 2001, but he wasn't traveling during the 2021 season, and Kuechly wasn't part of the radio team yet. So the Saturday night before the season finale at Tampa, Kuechly calls and asks if they can hang out and watch the game the next day.

"Oh, we're going over to (his wife) Bonnie's grandmother's house; we're just going to watch the game over there. What are you doing?" Almond said. "He said, 'Nothing.' I said, Well, dude, why don't you come? He literally comes over to Bonnie's grandmother's house and watches the game with us.

"He just walked in, hugged everybody, fixed himself a plate and sat down on the couch and watched the game with everybody. Just like he's one of the boys."

Bonnie's grandma, it should be noted, lives in Hickory Grove, S.C., which is over an hour away from Bank of America Stadium.

"Yeah, it wasn't like he was driving to South Park," Almond said.

Tell me there's a picture of grandma hugging Luke.

"Nah, I told everybody not to take pictures and make it weird," Almond replied.

By the end of the day, Kuechly was out riding in the four-wheeler over the property, just like part of the family.

Here's a picture of Almond and his grandfather and Kuechly at a separate event, being normal guys.

And family is what these people are to Kuechly, these staffers who don't get their names in print very often. They become part of his, and he becomes part of theirs.

Claire Stokes (nee Burke) had heard the stories, but wasn't sure they were real (He gets that a lot). She started in the sponsorship department, and came over to help the football side with logistics during the 2015 Super Bowl run, before moving over to football full-time in 2017. She's now the manager of player personnel operations, which means she runs the scouting department, really.

That year, the Panthers had what was called "Fellowship Friday," when players and whoever would gather in the cafeteria after practice and eat chicken every week, because they ate Bojangles in Week 1 and only lost one game all year, so why mess with a good thing? It started with a handful of players including Kuechly, Greg Olsen, JJ Jansen, and Ryan Kalil, but the equipment guys and ops staff and the front office and others just kept filtering in, until the end of the year when they kept having to pull up more and more tables to accommodate the crowd.

"We had the normal people, but then we would have some outsiders come in every once in a while just because they knew it was good vibes," Stokes said. "It was good people, it was a good conversation, and the topics ranged all over the place. At one point we were talking about my wedding. And Greg and JJ were hellbent that they were going to officiate my wedding, and it was a joke, obviously, but that was a topic of conversation one week."

Stokes got to know Kuechly better in 2020, when he worked in scouting for a year after retirement. He was starting a new job, and as the person who oversees the logistics for the front office, they talked a lot.

"I mean, he's Luke Kuechly, and he's a great player, and you saw him on the field, and obviously you see him during this really important emotional transition from on the field to off the field," she said. "And so, we were along for that ride as well and honored to be a part of that journey with him. He was super interested. There were definitely some challenges along the way, and I don't want to speak for him, but I would imagine that he found comfort in being in the building with people that he knew and cared for, and that cared for him to kind of walk along him in the journey, but he was super interested.

"I think the emotional transition was likely harder for him than like the transition from learning the Xs and Os from being on the field. He was an amazing scout. That's what he did when he was on the field anyway."

Having seen him at a few ceremonies in the past, Stokes laughed and said she can't wait to see him in Canton next weekend.

"Obviously excited, but the attention all on him is something that he probably does not enjoy," she said in the understatement of the day. "And that's another great part of him. He's so humble, but he's so confident in what he's capable of and what he's done, which is hard to find, I think, in someone of that level.

"I think he will be super excited to have everyone there around him to celebrate with him. But yeah, there's probably going to be some sweating, some nerves. And deflection. I mean, he wants his people there. He will probably say I'm glad to have everyone here with me to celebrate with me, not celebrate me."

Here's a picture of Luke at Claire's wedding, being a normal guy.

But it's not just putting on a suit and going to someone's event. Luke Kuechly lives for the dirty work. Again, his friends are in the equipment room, the regular people who work when everyone else is resting or relaxing.

And on his first day in the building in 2012, after being drafted in the first round, one of the hundreds of people he met was equipment manager Don Toner, who has been with the franchise since Day 1.

Kuechly, who is very good with names (like, weirdly good), promptly called Donnie Reggie. They did have an assistant athletic trainer named Reggie Scott, who, other than being slim, bears little resemblance to Don Toner.

This is an embarrassing slip-up for Kuechly. So naturally, it's been a running joke in the equipment room for the last 14 years.

"He was so mad at himself for that; he still apologizes for not remembering it," Toner laughed. "There's some players that are here for a couple of years, and they still don't know your name. I'm sure he was like, God, no. But he brings it up. I don't bring it up.

"He was mad he couldn't remember my name from the two-minute conversation we had the day before among the 200 people he met that day walking into the place for the first time, and we're back here folding towels. It's not like we're a head coach or a regular coach or one of the executives. But that's kind of him."

Kuechly's locker was in the back corner of the room on the right, nearest the equipment window, with easy access to the weight room.

"I think this level is Luke's favorite place in the world," Toner said. "He loves the locker room. He loves the guys, the camaraderie; he always fit in. The offseason would start, and Luke was here two weeks later, here all day just hanging out, not just talking football, but coming in and just talking life. He wasn't Luke Kuechly, the football player; he was just Luke.

"He makes you feel like he's one of you. There's no intimidation when he comes up and looks you in the eye and says, 'Hi, my name's Luke,' when you're introducing him to some new intern or a family member. It makes you feel comfortable."

So it makes sense that in 2020, when a positive COVID test and some contact tracing wiped out half of Toner's staff for the Lions game, Kuechly and an injured Christian McCaffrey were in the equipment window passing out socks.

"I remember being in the locker room putting shoulder pads on the players and looking back at the equipment room window, and there was Luke and Christian giving out gear," Toner said. "And having fun with it too, not bitching that they're having to do it. They took ownership of it."

McCaffrey said seeing a vet like Kuechly "always serving others" made it feel like family as soon as he landed in 2017. And when family gets hungry, you feed them, just like Almond's grandma fed Luke.

Toner remembered the 2014 game in Cincinnati, Kuechly's hometown, when he brought his mom and dad and a dozen pizzas to the stadium on Saturday night before the game.

"There's eight of us, and he showed up with 12 pizzas," Toner laughed. "He's got a million people in Cincinnati, and there he is, taking care of us in the locker room and the visiting clubhouse guys on Saturday night."

And while the equipment guys are protective over him, they're also grateful to see their guy whenever he shows up, because it would be easy for Kuechly to put on the letter jacket and just hang around the players.

"I think he just wants to help his friends," assistant equipment manager Danny O'Toole said. "He wants to hang out with his friends. It's probably a way for him to feel that locker room camaraderie still, without being able to actually be involved in the locker room. He really just wants to be one of the guys. He doesn't want the attention."

So sometimes, they'll go to great lengths to keep it that way.

"We'll show up, and there's six or eight visiting team clubhouse guys, and we're pushing trunks and carrying bags," Almond laughed. "And you look over, and one of them's going, 'Is that Luke Kuechly pushing a trunk?' And we're like 'No, that's not him,' and an hour later, they realize Luke Kuechly's in there unpacking player travel bags with us.

"I don't know if it's just his work ethic or he just likes being one of the boys."

Here's a picture of Luke hanging out with O'Toole and the equipment guys, being a normal guy.

But it's not just the guys.

Almond's wife Bonnie is the team's vice president of venue operations (who runs the whole building, really) and the granddaughter of the lady who hugged and fed Kuechly.

Before they had kids, Greg and Bonnie had a 120-pound Newfoundland named Paxton.

"So I answer the phone, and it's Luke," Bonnie said. "And he just says, 'Hey, I picked up some barbecue, can I come over and play with the dog?' And I'm like, 'OK, sure, Luke.' So he comes over and plays with the dog and eats.

"And at a certain point, Greg and I were going to watch a movie, and he was still there, so I asked him if he wanted to hang out.

"So there we were; me, my husband, and Luke Kuechly, sitting on the couch, watching 'The Notebook.'"

Showing up on short notice is one of his moves.

Long snapper JJ Jansen — who is an NFL player, so technically not normal — is used to Kuechly showing up at his back door. They live close enough to each other that even when he calls in advance, he's over quickly.

"I'm so jealous that Luke does such a great job of keeping up with people, and that's certainly a personality trait," Jansen said. "My wife always reminds me he's been a single guy, so he has a lot of time to stay connected. Now he chooses to use a lot of his time to stay connected. That's the key, but that's just who he is."

But those bonds are sacred to Kuechly.

Ryan Anderson, who used to work in PR for the Panthers and now works as the communications director for USA Football, never knows when the phone's going to ring and Kuechly's going to say, "Hey, let's go get lunch."

And he also doesn't know when they're going to be in line at one of the five restaurants he eats in all the time, and someone wearing a Cincinnati Bearcats hat will recognize him and a five-minute conversation might ensue.

Ryan Anderson is in the communications business, and he's good at it.

But getting him talking about Kuechly and he gets choked up, because their bond is close.

Anderson was the guy who took him to Jordan Gross' charity kickball game on draft weekend in 2012, which was cool except Kuechly didn't bring athletic gear because he thought he was only going to a press conference.

"So he's got glasses on, this mop hair, maybe a polo we gave him and some Doc Martens on," Anderson said. "And the security guard where they told us to go said 'You guys can't come in this way.' At the time, I'm 20-something and look like I'm 15, and he looks like not a football player, very honestly; so they're like, you can't come in this way.

"When they said 'You can't come in here,' he didn't do anything. He just looked at me and was like, 'What do we do?' And having to explain who he was was funny, but before he turned into himself, it was kind of a pretty regular occurrence."

Anderson was alongside Kuechly every day during his playing career; he's the one standing (nervously) behind him during press conferences. But he was also there the day Kuechly came in late to record an emotional retirement announcement, and his only instinct was to protect.

So when he gets that call for lunch, or to hang out, this isn't Luke Kuechly the Hall of Famer; this is Luke Kuechly, his friend.

"I think he's trying to be normal in a world that's not conditioned to it," Ryan Anderson said. "I think the most defining characteristic of him, honestly, is just being genuine. Why would he act differently? No one should know who Luke Kuechly is in Luke Kuechly's mind, right?

"I just think relationships genuinely matter to this guy. And he never let his stardom, his play ever get in the way of who he was. He never changed. He was the same. And that's what's so cool. I mean, now it's just fun. Now I'm just going to go have lunch with my buddy."

Ryan Anderson will also be in Canton next weekend to celebrate his friend.

So will his brother Mike, Stokes, Toner, O'Toole, and Almond, even though they'll be in Canton working a game Thursday, then fly back to Charlotte with the team that night, and back to Canton for the enshrinement ceremony, and back for practice Sunday morning.

Ryan Anderson wasn't going to miss it, even though it meant routing a work trip to Germany (for the 2026 IFAF Flag Football World Championships where Team USA will compete for Olympic qualification) on a five-stop odyssey that goes from Canton-Akron to Chicago to Newark to London to Dusseldorf. That's right, his flight is going CAK-ORD-EWR-LHR-DUS. That's the worst Scrabble rack ever.

And it's also a long way to go for a friend.

But they all do it, because they know Luke Kuechly would do it for them, even though that's not what normal people do.