Category Archives: 1930s

“Statistics are for losers”: an exercise in etymology

Earlier this week, I began a post about 400-yard passing games with the words, “Whoever coined the phrase ‘statistics are for losers’ . . . .” Naturally, this got me wondering: Who did coin the phrase, anyway? Could I possibly trace it back to its origin?

Search engines were invented for tasks like this. Alas, I didn’t turn up anything conclusive — just as I didn’t, a while back, when I researched “A tie is like kissing your sister.” If only there were a registrar for these pithy statements, somebody who could go to a file drawer, pull out a card and say, “Ah, yes. Amos Alonzo Stagg first said that after the University of Chicago’s game against Wabash in 1905.”

Anyway, I did come across a few things worth passing along. For starters, there’s Steve Spurrier’s updated version, uttered in 1998 when he was coaching at Florida:

Steve Spurrier

“Statistics are for losers and assistant coaches. Head coaches worry about wins and losses.”

(I’m not sure how assistant coaches like being lumped in with losers, but that’s The Ball Coach for you. He always shoots from the lip, collateral damage be damned.)

Three decades further back, in 1966, we have Jets coach Weeb Ewbank telling Arthur Daley of The New York Times after a loss to the Bills, “Statistics are for losers. Of course, it was encouraging that we could come back with 14 quick points in less than a minute during the last quarter. But getting in front early is much better than having to come from behind.”

That’s kind of the essence of Loser Statistics, isn’t it? The futile comeback that pads a team’s or player’s numbers and makes it look like they had a better day than they actually did.

Just a month earlier, the other pro coach in town, the Giants’ Allie Sherman, was quoted as saying, “Statistics are for losers. It’s the score that counts.”

So it’s clear that, by the mid-’60s, football folk were spouting the aphorism fairly regularly.

Four years before that, in 1962, The Associated Press reported: “The Cardinals outgained the 49ers, 314-215, [in a 24-17 defeat] but ‘statistics are for losers,’ [coach Wally] Lemm said.”

And two years before that, in 1960, columnist Ed Hayes of the Blytheville Courier-News in Arkansas wrote: “General Bob Neyland [the longtime University of Tennessee coach] . . . once cracked, ‘Statistics are for losers.’”

Unfortunately, when this “once” might have been is a mystery, though we do know Neyland was head coach of the Vols from 1926 to ’52. Still, there’s a good chance he might have heard it from somebody else. Coaches, after all, are notorious for stealing anything that isn’t nailed down — plays, drills, even handy sayings.

In the early days, when everything was up for grabs, the legendary Pop Warner tried to argue that statistics aren’t for losers. With college football plagued by low-scoring games in 1932,

Pop Warner

Warner, then at Stanford, proposed that an additional point be awarded for each first down. His reasoning:

“The public likes a free-scoring game. Baseball men recognized this when they began to use a livelier ball. The change I suggest for football would make the games less common and would make the best team more likely to win. It would provide many more thrills — look at the cheers that go up now when the stakes are moved forward.

“The whole idea of the game would be to advance the ball, and by scoring a point for each first down it would make it advisable to take more chances on third and fourth downs, instead of always punting. I have advocated this change before, and some have said, ‘Oh yes, Warner wants to score first downs because he gains all his ground in the middle of the field,’ but I have no selfish motive in advocating this change. I firmly believe it would help the game, and we all know the game needs help right now.

“It would be advisable to except first downs resulting from a penalty of more than five yards and not count a first down made inside the opponent’s five-yard line, if a touchdown was scored on the next series of downs. This would prevent purposely downing the ball, say, six inches from the goal line on a long run.”

Pop sure had done some Deep Thinking about it, hadn’t he? But his proposal never gained much traction with the rules committee — probably because the vast majority of coaches were convinced, even if they hadn’t articulated it yet, that statistics really are for losers.

Friday Night Fights VI: Steve Hamas vs. Max Schmeling, 1935

Everybody knows who Max Schmeling is: the German who, at the height of Nazi fervor in 1938, was knocked out in the first round by heavyweight champ Joe Louis at Yankee Stadium. The famous clip:

The referee who counts out Schmeling, by the way, is Art Donovan Sr., father of Artie Donovan, the Colts’ Hall of Fame defensive tackle. Art Sr. worked no fewer than 18 of Louis’ bouts. “‘Little Arthur’ was the kid on the subway from the Bronx who carried his father’s small bag with his gray referee’s uniform in it downtown to him on fight nights,” Bill Gildea wrote in The Washington Post in 1986.

As you heard the narrator say, Schmeling had held the title for two years himself earlier in the ’30s. He also was the first man to defeat Louis — in 1936 on a stunning 12th-round knockout. Indeed, their short-lived rematch might have been the most emotionally charged fight of all time, what with the Brown Bomber’s desire for revenge, Adolf Hitler’s naked racism and Germany’s growing militarism.

Anyway, that’s Max Schmeling (in case you needed a refresher course). As for Steve Hamas, his opponent in tonight’s featured bout, he’s largely fallen through the cracks of boxing history.

Steve Hamas, April 1934

Before he climbed in the ring as a professional, though, he spent a season as fullback with the Orange (N.J.) Tornadoes, one of the many teams that came and went in the NFL’s early years.

Truth be known, Hamas was probably a better fighter than footballer. A two-time college champion at Penn State, he tore through his first 29 pro opponents, knocking out 26 and decisioning the others. (Among his victims was former Frankford Yellow Jackets back Tex Hamer, who didn’t fare nearly as well between the ropes as Steve did.)

After KO-ing ex-lightweight champ Tommy Loughran in two rounds, Hamas climbed high enough in the rankings to earn a shot at Schmeling. It was a good time to catch him. For one thing, the German had just been TKO-ed by Max Baer (who would go on to win the heavyweight crown a year later). For another, he didn’t train all that hard for his bout against the pride of the Orange Tornadoes, perhaps because he thought of him as more of a media creation than a polished fighter.

Sure enough, Hamas absolutely hammered Schmeling when they met at Philadelphia’s Convention Hall in 1934, winning a unanimous 12-round decision. In the New York Daily News, Paul Gallico wrote that Max “was a 10-round target for Hamas’ straight left in the face. . . . Nobody [had] ever cut Schmeling before.”

Naturally, this set up a sequel 13 months later — in Hamburg, where the atmosphere was a tad different. Instead of 13,000 screaming Americans, there were 25,000 screaming Germans.

The fighters have emerged from their dressing rooms and are about ready to begin. Let’s go up to the ring.

Alas, that ninth-round knockout was the end of Hamas’ boxing career. He experienced temporary numbness in one his legs afterward, and the scare convinced him to hang up his gloves. His place in history remains secure, though — as the only ex-NFL player to beat a former heavyweight champ.

Sources: pro-football-reference.com, boxrec.com.

The best and worst of kicking

On one side Sunday, you had the Bills’ Dan Carpenter booming a 58-yard field goal with four seconds left to give his team a come-from-behind 17-14 victory. On the other, you had the Lions’ Alex Henery missing all three of his boots — none shorter than 44 yards — and losing his job because of it.

That, friends, is all you need to know about the kicking profession in the 2000s. The NFL has kickers these days capable of knocking through a game-winner from 58 yards or longer, if need be. But the bar for them has been raised so high that missing more than a handful of boots a season — never mind three in an afternoon — is likely to put them on the unemployment line. They’re the victims of their own near-perfection.

Granted, Henery has had a rough go of it this year. In his two games for Detroit, he was 1 for 5 on field goal tries, a success rate that might have raised eyebrows even in the ’50s. But he also has a track record, and it’s pretty good. In his three previous NFL seasons, all with the Eagles, he converted 86 percent of his attempts. But now he’s gone because, well, that’s just the way it is in pro football.

As Lions coach Jim Caldwell put it: “There’s somebody out there for us that’ll do the job for us. We just got to see if we can track him down quickly.”

Translation: No biggie. We’ll just hold a tryout, open up another box of 86-percent kickers and see who performs best. (It turned out to be Matt Prater, the former Bronco.)

NFL soccer-stylers have become so accurate, even from great distances, that last year they were successful on 86.5 percent of their field goal tries (which made Henery, at 82.1, below average). There even have been kickers, two of them, who have gone through an entire season without missing. And, of course, Tom Dempsey’s 63-yarder, which had stood as the record since 1970, was finally topped by Prater, who booted a 64-yarder in Denver’s thin air last December.

The field goal is becoming almost as automatic as the extra point. So it’s easy to forget, with all these footballs tumbling through the uprights, that, at late as the ’60s, it was a very hit-or-miss proposition. And earlier than that, it was more miss than hit.

Let’s pay a visit to 1939 for a moment, to a game between the Redskins and Pittsburgh Pirates (they weren’t the Steelers yet). The Redskins won easily, 44-14, but they also missed five PATs. The Associated Press’ account read like this:

“Jim German ran off right tackle to a touchdown. Washington missed the kick. . . . [Andy] Farkas knifed through for the score. His kick was blocked by Sam Boyd. . . . Frank Filchock stood in the end zone, passed to Farkas on the 4-yard stripe, and Andy galloped 96 yards for a touchdown — a total gain of 99 yards. Turk Edwards’ kick was not good. . . . [Dick] Todd . . . raced 60 yards for another touchdown. Bob Masterson’s kick was not good. . . . Ed Justice went around left end . . . for the final Redskin[s] touchdown. [Bo] Russell missed the kick.”

This is obviously an extreme example of what I’m talking about. The Redskins were so far ahead that day that they started goofing around and letting everybody kick. (Russell and Masterson were their main guys.) But it just shows how casual teams could be about kicking and how inexact a science it was — even though PATs were 10 yards shorter because the goal posts were on the goal line.

Pittsburgh’s kicker, Armand Niccolai, was one of the better ones in the league — so good that, after he retired following the 1941 season, the team talked him into coming back for one more year. Since he’d already taken a coaching and teaching job at a local high school and couldn’t attend the Steelers’ practices, he just showed up for the games.

“He will not even don pads,” the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported, “but will be used exclusively as a placekicker.”

No practices and no pads! What a sweet deal. Alas, he made just 2 of 14 field-goal attempts that year and decided, wisely, to retire for good.

Niccolai’s final season is one of the worst of all time by a kicker. His competition:

WORST SEASONS BY KICKERS (10 OR MORE FGA)

[table width=”350px”]

Year,Kicker\, Team,Made,Att,%

1965,Bob Timberlake\, Giants, 1,15,6.7

1955,Art Michalik\, Steelers, 1,12,8.3

1939,Clarke Hinkle\, Packers, 1,10,10

1963,Bob Jencks\, Bears, 1,10,10

1952,Joe Geri\, Cardinals, 2,18,11.1

1942,Armand Niccolai\, Steelers, 2,14,14.3

1963,Jack Spikes\, Chiefs, 2,13,15.4

1950,Ted Fritsch\, Packers, 3,17,17.6

[/table]

All of them, by the way, kicked in the Old Style, with their toes rather than their instep. By the ’70s, though, almost every club had a soccer-styler, and success rates started going up . . . and up . . . and up. It’s just a more reliable way to boot the ball.

Still, while you’re snickering at these percentages, keep in mind: Many of these guys played another position — back when rosters were smaller — in addition to handling the kicking. That certainly raised the margin for error. (Sonny Jurgensen once told me he never had receiver Bobby Walston run a deep route on third down when the Eagles were in field goal position because he didn’t want Walston to be tired if he was needed to kick.)

Just out of curiosity, I thought I’d find out which kickers have missed the most kicks — field goals or extra points — in a season. There are some interesting names on it, including two Hall of Famers.

MOST MISSED KICKS IN A SEASON (FG AND PAT)

[table width=”450px”]

Year,Kicker\, Team,FG,PAT,Total

1964,Paul Hornung*\, Packers,12-38,41-43,28

1961,John Aveni\, Redskins,5-28,21-23,25

1976,Jan Stenerud*\, Chiefs,21-38,27-33,23

1963,Lou Michaels\, Steelers, 21-41,32-35,23

1967,Bruce Gossett\, Rams,20-43,48-48,23

1969,Tom Dempsey\, Saints,22-41,33-35,21

1969,Roy Gerela\, Oilers (AFL),19-40,29-29,21

1969,Gino Cappelletti\, Patriots (AFL),14-34,26-27,21

1966,Bruce Gossett\, Rams,28-49,29-29,21

1963,Jerry Kramer\, Packers,16-34,43-46,21

1963,Tommy Davis\,49ers,10-31,24-24,21

1960,Larry Barnes\, Raiders (AFL),6-25,37-39,21

[/table]

*Hall of Famer

If you’ve ever wondered why Vince Lombardi’s Packers didn’t win the title in 1963 and ’64 — after going back to back in ’61 and ’62 (and winning three more from 1965 to ’67) — you can start with kicking. Kramer and Hornung missed 44 field goal tries in those seasons, and the Golden Boy’s 26 misses in ’64 are an NFL record that probably will last forever. After serving a one-year suspension in ’63 for betting on games, Paul simply lost it as a kicker.

It’s also worth noting that the kicker who has missed the most field goal attempts in a game since 1960 — the Cardinals’ Jim Bakken, six, vs. the Falcons in ’66 — turned around the next season and booted seven in a game, a mark that wasn’t broken for 40 years.

That’s what was so ironic about the Bills-Lions game. Henery got fired for going 0 for 3, right? Guess who the last kicker to have an 0-for-4 day was.

Carpenter, Buffalo’s hero, in 2010.

So maybe this isn’t the last we’ve heard of Alex Henery.

Source: pro-football-reference.com

Paul Hornung’s forgotten streak

On this day in 1961, Paul Hornung did something that hasn’t been done since — and probably won’t be done again. The Hall of Fame running back, who doubled as a kicker, scored the Packers’ first 31 points in a 45-7 beatdown of the Colts. The highlights of his epic performance:

That was from a ’70s game show, by the way, hosted by Dick Enberg called “Sports Challenge.” The episode you were watching pitted three Packers (Hornung, offensive guard Jerry Kramer and Hall of Fame defensive end Willie Davis) against a team of Dallas Cowboys (quarterbacks Don Meredith and Eddie LeBaron and receiver Frank Clarke). All of them were retired by then (1972, I’m guessing).

Many of the questions were easy — nobody wanted to make the contestants look bad — but it was still funny to see how little some of them knew about the history of their own sports, never mind other sports. (Even recent history . . . like the previous season.)

But getting back to Hornung, he was one of the last of a breed: an offensive star who also kicked. There were a plenty of them in pro football’s first few decades, when rosters were smaller and players had to multitask. By the late ’50s, though, you started to see more and more kicking specialists, guys who did nothing else (except maybe punt, like the 49ers’ Tommy Davis). Paul managed to hold out as a two-way threat through the 1964 season, at which point coach Vince Lombardi replaced him with Don Chandler.

As you saw in the clip, Hornung could do it all — run, catch, kick and, because he’d been a quarterback at Notre Dame, even throw the occasional option pass. (That was the “run-pass option” Enberg referred to on the last touchdown, when Paul decided to run.) As a result, he scored tons of points for those great Packers teams — a record 176 in 12 games in 1960 (since topped only by LaDainian Tomlinson’s 186 in 16 games for the Chargers in 2006), 146 the next season (also in 12 games) and 31 straight that afternoon against the Colts (whose defense, let’s not forget, featured Hall of Fame linemen Gino Marchetti and Art Donovan).

Hornung’s consecutive-points streak was actually 32, because he’d booted the PAT after Green Bay’s final score the previous week. Think about it: What would it take for somebody to do that today? Answer: Kick 11 field goals — with no intervening touchdowns or safeties. It’s possible, certainly, but nobody has come close to pulling it off. In 2007, for instance, the Bengals’ Shayne Graham booted seven field goals to score all of his team’s points in a 21-7 win over the Ravens. But that was pretty much the extent of his streak (22, counting a point-after the game before).

Indeed, I’ve come across just five examples since World War II of players scoring 20 or more points in a game and having it be all the points their club scored. The list:

PLAYERS WHO SCORED ALL OF THEIR TEAM’S POINTS IN A GAME (20+)*

[table]

Date,Player\, Team,Opponent,Pts,How he scored

11-19-50,RB Doak Walker\, Lions,Packers,24,3 TD catches\, 3 PAT\, 1 FG

11-11-07,K Shayne Graham\, Bengals,Ravens,21,7 field goals

11-18-96,K Chris Boniol\, Cowboys,Packers,21,7 field goals

12-8-62,FB Cookie Gilchrist\, Bills (AFL),N.Y. Titans,20, 2 TD runs\, 2 PAT\, 2 FG

12-1-46,FB Ted Fritsch\, Packers,Redskins,20,3 TD runs\, 2 PAT

[/table]

*Since World War II.

(People forget what a talent Gilchrist was. Besides leading the league in rushing that season with 1,096 yards, he kicked eight field goals and 14 extra points.)

Still, the record for most consecutive points doesn’t belong to Hornung. No, it’s the property of another Hall of Famer, Chicago Cardinals back Ernie Nevers, who scored 59 straight over five days (Sunday/Thanksgiving Day) in 1929 — 19 vs. the Dayton Triangles and 40 vs. the Bears. (The latter, incidentally, remains the mark for points in a game.

Several other consecutive-points streaks in the ’20s also were longer than Hornung’s. Nevers had another lengthy streak — 47 points — in 1926, Hall of Famer Paddy Driscoll of the Cardinals scored at least 44 straight (there’s some uncertainty) in ’23 and Hank Gillo of the Racine (Wis.) Legion had a 43-point run in ’24.

Then there’s the streak put together by Ralph Kercheval of the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1934 and ’35. That one might be the most remarkable of all. Over a span of eight games in those two seasons, Kercheval, a running back-kicker, scored every one of the Dodgers’ points — all, uh, 34. (Brooklyn didn’t exactly have a dynamic offense.) He extended his run to 40 the next week with two field goals, but then teammate Red Franklin ended it with a rushing touchdown. Hard as it is to believe — even for those low-scoring times — Kercheval’s streak (three touchdowns, six field goals, 4 PATs) lasted almost a year. It began Oct. 28, 1934 and ended Oct. 6, 1935.

It’s easy to cast aspersions on the early NFL. It was, after all, a much different game. But there’s one thing players did back then that today’s heroes will never match: score large numbers of points consecutively.

Hey, it’s something. One last screengrab:

Source: pro-football-reference.com

A Sunday of safeties

How often are safeties — the two-point kind — a major topic of conversation on an NFL Sunday (or even a minor topic of conversation)? They factored mightily, though, in two Week 5 games. In fact, both came in the fourth quarter and put teams in position for comeback wins, one of them in overtime. Safeties don’t get much more momentous than that.

The Browns scored the first with 11:02 left when linebacker Tank Carder swooped in and blocked a punt by the Titans’ Brett Kern out of the end zone. That narrowed the Tennessee lead to 28-15. Two Brian Hoyer-to-Travis Benjamin touchdown passes followed, giving the Cleveland — which had once trailed 28-3 — a stunning 29-28 victory. (As an added bonus, it was the biggest comeback in franchise history and the biggest road comeback in NFL/AFL history.)

And just think: It might never have happened without Carder’s safety.

A little later, at the Superdome, the Saints were down 31-26 to the Bucs with 6:44 to go in regulation when linebacker Junior Galette sacked Mike Glennon in the end zone to make it a three-point game. Shayne Graham booted a 44-yard field goal to send it to OT tied at 31, and New Orleans’ Khiry Robinson ended it by running 18 yards for the deciding score.

You’ve gotta admit, few things in football are more scintillating than a timely safety.

The only way the day could have been better is if one of the safeties had come in overtime. We’ve only had three of those, the most recent by the Dolphins’ Cameron Wake last season vs. the Bengals. Details here, courtesy of the Pro Football Hall of Fame website.

Safeties are kind of like a two-dollar bill. They change the arithmetic of a game. Granted, the two-point conversion also changes the math, but not nearly as dramatically. The latter, after all, gives a club only one additional point; it would have kicked the PAT, which is virtually automatic, anyway. Also, after a successful two-point conversion, you have to kick the ball away (unless, of course, you want to risk an onside kick). After a safety, you get to retain possession. The other team has to kick the ball to you. (Plus, it puts That Crazy Look in the eyes of your defense, which should never be underestimated.)

Funny thing is, when the NFL was getting going in the ’20s, the safety rule was much different. The play was still worth two points, but the team that gave up the safety, strangely enough, got to keep the ball. It was given a new set of downs starting from its 30.

The rule was changed in 1926 because clubs – pro and college both – were abusing it. If they were backed up in their own end late in the game and ahead by three or more, they’d take an intentional safety and run three more clock-killing plays. And if they were still comfortably ahead at that point, they could take another intentional safety and run three more plays. It was ridiculous. If you had a big enough lead, you could — theoretically, at least — keep taking intentional safeties and eat up the last several minutes of a game without having to lose possession.

Check out this excerpt from a New York Times story in 1925. It talks about the Giants, leading the Providence Steam Roller by a field goal in the closing minutes, pulling just such a stunt.

That “Hinky” Haines was a crafty one. (I put Hinky in quotes because his nickname was usually spelled H-i-n-k-e-y.)

You might also get a kick out of this excerpt from a Chicago Tribune story on the Racine (Wis.) Legion’s 10-4 win over the Chicago Cardinals in 1923. It’s the only time in NFL history a team has scored four points in a game. (And the Cards had Racine quarterback Shorty Barr to thank for it.)

Even after the rewrite in 1926, the safety rule needed some tweaking. That was evident after the Redskins lost the 1945 championship game to the Cleveland Rams, 15-14, because Sammy Baugh threw a pass out of his end zone that struck one of the goal posts — which in those days were located on the goal line. (It was considered a safety, for some forgotten reason, if the ball landed in the end zone.)

You can see the play — sort of — in this brief clip. (It was a miserably cold day. Players huddled under straw on the sideline to keep from getting frostbite.)

Naturally, Washington owner George Preston Marshall lobbied at the next league meeting to amend the antiquated — and rarely enforced — rule. And his lodge brothers went along because, well, an incomplete pass is an incomplete pass, right? Why should it ever be a safety? (Unless, that is, the quarterback throwing out of the end zone is guilty of intentional grounding. See Tom Brady in Super Bowl XLVI.)

After that, the safety receded into history and became what it always should have been: a curiosity, a freak occurrence, a mint left on a defender’s pillow. There hasn’t been a 2-0 final score since 1938, the Bears edging the Packers, and the safety certainly hasn’t had many memorable moments over the decades.

The biggest safety I can think of in recent years is the one that helped the Titans break open the 1999 AFC title game against the Jaguars. Tennessee was up 17-14 midway through the third quarter when defensive tackles Josh Evans and Jason Fisk broke through and sacked Mark Brunell in the end zone. Then Derrick Mason returned the free kick 80 yards for a touchdown, and the Titans were on their way to their first and only Super Bowl. A screen shot of the play-by-play:

One last factoid before you go: In 1929, when the Packers won their first NFL championship, they went undefeated (12-0-1) and outscored their opponents 198-22. At home, their defense was practically unscored on. In five games, they gave up only four points. Two safeties.

Preview of coming attractions

Big piece coming tomorrow on Bronko Nagurski’s amazing 1937 season, when the Bears’ Hall of Fame fullback went back and forth between the football field and the wrestling mat (where he had just won the heavyweight title). Thought I’d whet your appetite with a couple of photos I came across during my research. The first is a promotional shot showing Jack Dempsey, the former heavyweight boxing champ, “hanging” Jack Dusek to establish that the latter was tough enough to take on The Bronko.

The second is of a referee admonishing an underhanded opponent of Nagurski’s by giving him some of his own medicine. Enjoy.

Talk about your Short Work Weeks

Thursday night NFL games are one of our better examples of Man’s Inhumanity to Man. The human body simply isn’t built to play pro football twice in five calendar days. It probably isn’t built to play pro football once every seven calendar days, but that’s another matter.

Anyway, as you watch tonight’s Redskins-Giants hostilities at FedEx Field, keep in mind how much worse it used to be for NFL players. Yes, worse. In the 1920s, for instance, games on back-to-back days were far from uncommon. When the Frankford Yellow Jackets won the championship in 1926, they had three weeks where they played on Saturday and Sunday and another where they played on Thursday and Saturday. Amazingly, they won seven of the eight games.

In the ’30s, the Portsmouth Spartans were fond of Wednesday home games under the lights at Universal Stadium. One season they had two Sunday-Wednesday-Sunday trifectas on the schedule — three games in eight days — and another week they played on Wednesday and Sunday. And this was the era, I’ll just remind you, of 20-man rosters and 60-minute men (not to mention looong train rides).

Even in the ’50s it could get a little crazy. The New York Yanks began the 1950 season with a Sunday/Friday week — on the West Coast — and later had two Sunday/Thursday weeks. Little wonder they wore down after a 6-1 start and finished 7-5.

So, yeah, Thursday night games are a raw deal. But the players of yore were treated even less gently.

Source: pro-football-reference.com

Gadget plays galore

NFL teams channeled their Inner David Copperfield in Week 3. We saw the Bengals’ Mohamed Sanu, the Dan Marino of wide receivers, complete a throwback to QB Andy Dalton for an 18-yard touchdown, and we saw the Browns dust off the illegal-since-1954 Hideout Play against the Ravens — with Johnny Manziel split way, way out, almost far enough to sell hot dogs. (We covered that bit of subterfuge in a post yesterday.)

It’s probably only a matter of time before some special teams coach sells his boss on this beauty:

I wouldn’t mind seeing somebody run this one, either:

Hey, a guy can dream, can’t he?

Butch Gibson, Hercules of the latter-day Giants

With the Giants coming to Washington for a Thursday night game, the Redskins are facing the dreaded Short Work Week. But at least they don’t have to game plan for Butch Gibson, the all-pro lineman for the Giants in the ’30s. According to a Ripley’s Believe It or Not cartoon that ran in newspapers, the 5-foot-9, 204-pound Gibson was so powerful he could “tear a deck of cards into SIXTEENTHS with his BARE HANDS!”

Try that sometime. (Heck, try tearing a deck in half.)

There was something else about Gibson that was unusual: He didn’t wear a typical leather helmet. “He wore one of those boxer’s headgears,” one of his opponents, Glenn Presnell of the Portsmouth Spartans, once told me. Butch probably wanted to protect himself against head slaps — which were legal in that era — and also avoid developing cauliflower ears (another hazard of the early years).

Here’s the classic Ripley’s cartoon:

Speaking of smallish players . . .

Among the hopefuls at the Giants’ 1938 training camp was Doug Locke, a 145-pound back from St. Louis College in San Antonio. (It’s known as St. Mary’s University now.) Locke didn’t make the team, but he did last long enough to pose for this classic photo with muscular guard Tarzan White. The cutline reads:

“Where do you want him?” asks strong man Tarzan White, 205-pound guard on the N.Y. Giants pro football team, as he prepares to heave the team’s lightest member, quarterback Doug Locke of Texas. Locke weighs a mere 145. The two men tried this fancy passing while the Giants trained at Pearl River, N.Y.

By the way, had Locke gone to St. Mary’s a little earlier, his coach would have been former West Point footballer Dwight Eisenhower. The future U.S. president held the job there for a year (1916) while stationed at Fort Sam Houston.

PRO FOOTBALL DALY

The whole 100 yards — and sometimes the end zones, too.

Category Archives: 1930s

“Statistics are for losers”: an exercise in etymology

Friday Night Fights VI: Steve Hamas vs. Max Schmeling, 1935

The best and worst of kicking

WORST SEASONS BY KICKERS (10 OR MORE FGA)

MOST MISSED KICKS IN A SEASON (FG AND PAT)

Paul Hornung’s forgotten streak

PLAYERS WHO SCORED ALL OF THEIR TEAM’S POINTS IN A GAME (20+)*

A Sunday of safeties

Preview of coming attractions

Talk about your Short Work Weeks

Gadget plays galore

Butch Gibson, Hercules of the latter-day Giants

Speaking of smallish players . . .