88 to 87 to 13: The bridge that binds Colts receivers

It started with No. 88 and his gloveless practices and the daily toil that led him to 1,102 catches and 14,580 yards and 128 touchdowns. It started with Marvin Harrison and the way he went about his work. "Practice is where you earn your money," he would tell teammates. "The games? Those are for free."

Then came No. 87. "I'm going to make it my job to make sure teams can't double-cover you anymore," Reggie Wayne told Harrison his first day he walked into the Indianapolis Colts' locker room in 2001. Then came the questions. Routes. Coverages. Defensive tells. Wayne wanted the secrets. Harrison answered every last inquiry.

So 87 watched and listened and learned. And he worked just like 88 did. He never griped about playing in Harrison's shadow, he just showed up every day – it's been 14 years now – and scripted Hall of Fame credentials all his own. Together, 88 and 87 buried secondaries for nearly a decade.

Every Andrew Luck pass from Austin Collie to Zurlon Tipton

Back then, in the mid-2000s, when Harrison and Wayne were the NFL's premier pass-catching pair, T.Y. Hilton was a South Florida kid throwing to them in the video game Madden. Forget his hometown Dolphins; the Colts were Hilton's team. They had Harrison. They had Wayne. He'd create his own player, slap 'Hilton' on the back of the jersey and toss his imaginary self into the offense, right alongside the two legends.

Thus, in Hilton's customized video game world, Peyton Manning's options at receiver looked like this: Marvin Harrison to his right, Reggie Wayne to his left, T.Y. Hilton in the slot. The poor defenses that had to face that lineup.

"It was kind of like cheating," Hilton says now, smiling. "But I always pictured myself playing with those guys."

A half-dozen years later Hilton doesn't need to create a video-game version of himself, a receiver for the Colts with surreal speed and sturdy hands. He lives it. Through four career playoff games he's hauled in 496 yards – a fatter sum than every receiver in history not named Larry Fitzgerald. Postseason game No. 5 comes Sunday in Denver (4:40 p.m., CBS).

Surprised? You shouldn't be. Hilton's sterling start to his career comes in concert with that of his predecessors: Just as Wayne watched Harrison, Hilton watches Wayne. The routes. The coverages. The defensive tells. Hilton wants every secret. Wayne answers every inquiry. Sound familiar?

The standard set by Harrison and sustained by Wayne now falls to Hilton, the Colts' new Alpha Dog receiver. The trade secrets have been handed down. The torch has been passed, from 88 to 87 to 13. Now it's T.Y.'s time.

"There's a lot of places where you don't see that, and you don't get that," Colts coach Chuck Pagano said. "Guys aren't willing to spend the extra time with the young players."

Then again, most guys aren't Reggie Wayne.

* * *

On the second day and in the third round of the 2012 NFL draft, after 91 players and 12 wide receivers had already heard their names called, Eugene "T.Y." Hilton's phone buzzed. He had a home. He was headed to Indianapolis.

A few moments later, as he celebrated with family, another buzz. A call from the 305 area code. South Florida.

"Congratulations," Reggie Wayne told him. "I'm really happy for you. Now, let's get to work."

"Let's do it," came Hilton's response.

It was the first time they'd ever spoken.

The guy he'd played with in Madden was now a teammate. It didn't fully hit Hilton until the day he walked into his first receivers' meeting at the Colts facility. He saw Wayne. He froze. Wow. That's really Reggie Wayne, he told himself.

"He'd been in the league for so long, done so many things," Hilton said. "I just wanted to steal some knowledge from him and add it to my game."

It was a torn quad that hampered Hilton at the scouting combine and contributed to his draft descent. Teams were scared of the Florida International product, and his 5-9, 178-pound frame didn't help. (Harrison, by contrast, was listed generously at 6-0 and 185 pounds.) So after arriving in Indianapolis, Hilton turned the knocks into fuel. He began his NFL career resolute to prove he was better than the 92nd pick, better than the 12 receivers selected ahead of him.

In Wayne, he met an aging veteran determined to show he still had it.

"My motto has always been, 'Outwork the guy in front of you,'" Hilton said. "Well, it's hard to do that when the guy in front of you is Reggie Wayne."

But Wayne saw it early, the way Harrison saw it all those years back. The new kid was willing to work. He could respect that.

And the questions? They were the same ones he asked as a rookie.

"That's how I was with Marv," Wayne said. "How could I run this particular route better? How could I read a defense better? T.Y. was never shy about asking questions. I like that. That's how you learn. At the end of the day, I just want my teammates to say that I've been a good teammate. Hopefully, I've been that to the younger guys."

Slowly, remnants of Harrison and Wayne trickled into Hilton's game-wrecking repertoire. Look closely and you'll see it on Sundays.

Watch 13 slide away from needless contact the way 87 would, the same way 88 would before him. Watch 13 torment a cornerback on the sideline – makes you think of 88 in his prime, doesn't it? Watch 13 streak across the middle and flash his hands at the last second – sudden as a snake's strike – and snag a first down amidst the teeth of the defense. 87 made a career on plays like that.

They grew close, the savvy old-timer and the precocious young star. They kept to their ritual after every big play – joining in the huddle for a fist-bump – whether it was Wayne or Hilton who'd made the catch. In Sunday's 26-10 wild card win over Cincinnati, Wayne hauled in a critical first down in the fourth quarter. Hilton was ecstatic.

"I threw the fist-bump out the door and tried to give him a high-five," he said.

Wayne didn't like it. Stick to the routine, young fella.

"He batted me across the helmet!" Hilton recalled, laughing.

Hilton is off to a historic pace. Through three seasons, he leads Harrison and Wayne in receptions (214 compared to Harrison's 196 and Wayne's 144) and yards (3,289 to Harrison's 2,478 and Wayne's 1,899). Harrison remains tops in touchdowns (21 to Hilton's 19 and Wayne's 11). Either way, it's good company to have. Harrison was named a Hall of Fame finalist Thursday night.

Hilton's proving he belongs in the conversation.

And he knows his good fortune. How many rookies walk into a meeting room with a veteran like Wayne – now with 212 games under his belt to go with six Pro Bowls and a world championship – willing to dish on his deep reservoir of receiving knowledge?

"That speaks to his character," Hilton said. "It doesn't matter what he does. He's always trying to help people out. If you have a question, ask him. He'll help you. For him to do that with me, it means a lot."

* * *

Whereas Wayne isn't afraid to vocalize his feelings and frustrations, Harrison spoke loudest with his silence. His business was football; he cared little for the distractions that came along with it. He never went out of his way to help Wayne, or any receiver for that matter. But if Wayne asked, he answered.

The greatest lessons he passed on came in his practice habits. He left his gloves on the sideline to toughen up his hands for Sundays. He sprinted to the end zone after every single catch. He never took a day off.

"I remember how fast he was, that he had awesome hands, those wild catches he used to make," Hilton said. "But the biggest thing about Marvin Harrison was his heart. He played with so much heart."

That heart left indelible mark on a wide-eyed rookie out of the University of Miami. It helped shape the arc of Wayne's career.

A decade and a half later, Wayne is the league's oldest receiver. His leadership style strays from Harrison's head-down, mouth-shut mantra; if he sees a problem, his teammates hear about it. Wayne called a players-only meeting late in the season to ensure the Colts refocus before their playoff push.

There are the little things, too.

"I remember one night at training camp, Reggie speaking up in front of the whole team," said Colts backup quarterback Matt Hasselbeck, before diving into his best Wayne impersonation. "'Guys, make sure you clean up after yourself in the lunch room. It's not the janitor's job to clean up your plate!'"

The bond between Wayne and Hilton continues to blossom. They sit next to each other in film sessions and on flights. They fist-bump after every big play. They shoot hoops together in the offseason.

After Sunday's win over Cincinnati, Hilton showed his respect this way: By sporting a gray T-shirt with Wayne in his blue 87 uniform across the chest.

"Best T-shirt in the world," Wayne called it.

As for his pupil, he's carving out his own legacy. Only two of the first 13 receivers drafted in 2012 have earned a Pro Bowl nod. Hilton is one of them.

Yet the bar for the position in Indianapolis remains impossibly high. He can thank 88 and 87 for that. Hilton topped 1,000 receiving yards for the second straight season this year; Harrison and Wayne achieved that feat eight times each. Harrison sits third in NFL history in receptions, Wayne seventh. Harrison's seventh all-time in yards, Wayne eighth.

Hilton has a ways to go.

And he may soon go it alone. When Wayne packs his car after the season and heads south to Miami, he'll contemplate whether to retire or return for a 15th season. Hilton expects his phone to buzz again.

"He already knows he's got to talk to me about it before he makes a decision," Hilton said.

He knows one more thing: If Wayne does call it a career, Hilton is ready for what comes next.

"I guess I'll just have to pay it forward like he did."

Call Star reporter Zak Keefer at (317) 444-6134 and follow him on Twitter @zkeefer.