Category Archives: 1940s

An old(er) back learns some new tricks

Ahmad Bradshaw’s days as a 1,000-yard rusher are probably behind him. He’s what you might call a complementary back now, rotating with Trent Richardson and giving the Colts, at the age of 28, A Little Bit of This and A Little Bit of That. It’s the Little Bit of That we’ll be discussing today.

Suddenly, Bradshaw, never much of a receiving threat before, has started catching touchdown passes. He had three TD receptions in his first seven NFL seasons; he has five in the first six games of 2014. That’s as many as any running back has had through six games since 1960. In fact, it’s been 31 years since a back got off to this good a start (Joe Cribbs, Bills). Two of the other backs since ’60 with five TD catches in the first six games: Hall of Famers Gale Sayers (1965) and Lenny Moore (1961).

Clearly, Andrew Luck has faith in Bradshaw as a receiver, because he keeps throwing him the ball in the red zone. (The five touchdowns have measured 1, 7, 6, 15 and 5 yards.) And if Luck keeps throwing him the ball in the red zone, Ahmad might well break the modern record for TD catches in a season by a running back — 9, shared by four players.

MOST TOUCHDOWN CATCHES IN A SEASON BY A RUNNING BACK SINCE 1932

Year Running Back,Team Rec Yds Avg TD
1991 Leroy Hoard, Browns 48 567 11.8 9
1975 Chuck Foreman, Vikings 73 691 9.5 9
1964 Bill Brown, Vikings 48 703 14.6 9
1961 Billy Cannon, Oilers (AFL) 43 586 13.6 9
1960 Lenny Moore, Colts 45 936 20.8 9
2000 Marshall Faulk, Rams 81 830 10.2 8
1986 Gary Anderson, Chargers 80 871 10.9 8
1966 Dan Reeves, Cowboys 41 557 13.6 8
1949 Gene Roberts, Giants 35 711 20.3 8

Always fun to see Dan Reeves’ name pop up in a chart, isn’t it? “Choo-Choo” Roberts, by the way, had one of the great forgotten seasons in ’49 for a 6-6 Giants team. He finished fourth in the league in both rushing yards (634) and receiving yards (711, including two 200-yard games) and scored 17 touchdowns, one shy of Steve Van Buren’s mark (since erased).

I said “modern record” earlier because Hall of Famer Johnny Blood caught 10 for the Packers in 1931, the year before they began keeping Official Statistics. Blood was a hybrid back like Lenny Moore — or, more recently, the Seahawks’ Percy Harvin. He’d line up either in the backfield or on the flank (where his speed could be put to optimum use). Just a dangerous, dangerous receiver. Indeed, he had four scoring grabs of 40 yards or longer that year.

Let’s see Ahmad Bradshaw top that.

Postscript: There are a million Blood stories. Some are even true. He was one of pro football’s all-time characters, the kind of guy who didn’t waste a minute of his life. If you want to read more about him, check out this classic piece Gerald Holland wrote for Sports Illustrated in 1963.

Source: pro-football-reference.com

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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)

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

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)

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

*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.

Armand Niccolai clothing ad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Source: pro-football-reference.com

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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.

NYT description of safety, 1926

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.)

10-4 Game 2014-10-05 at 6.02.16 PM

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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:

Screen shot of AFC title game in '99

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.

Last 2-0 game in 1938

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A fearsome foursome of NFL golfers

Since it’s Ryder Cup Sunday, why don’t we explore the following question:

Which NFL players, past or present, have been the best golfers?

Among current players, the consensus seems to be that the Cowboys’ Tony Romo — “with a handicap that’s been as low as plus-3.3,” according to Golf Digest — is Numero Uno (though two other quarterbacks, the Broncos’ Peyton Manning and Steelers’ Ben Roethlisberger, are deemed quite capable). Romo, you may recall, partnered with Tiger Woods in the 2012 AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am.

A bit farther back, Al Del Greco, the Titans kicker, shot a 7-under 65 in the final round of the 2000 American Century Celebrity Golf Championship to win by three over former Dolphins safety Dick Anderson. Yeah, you might say Al could play a little.

But I’m going to start with the guy who finished third behind Del Greco and Anderson: John Brodie, erstwhile star quarterback for the 49ers. For starters, Brodie, a month shy of his 65th birthday, was much older than Al (38) and Dick (54). Aside from that, though, he was probably the best golfer the NFL has seen.

In his early years with the Niners, Brodie played in the occasional PGA Tour event during the offseason and even qualified once for the U.S. Open. In one pro tournament, the 1960 Yorba Linda (Calif.) Open, he had the low second round, a 5-under 67, which put him ahead of a couple of fellows named Arnold Palmer and Billy Casper. Alas, he faded the last two days and ended up taking home a check for . . . $112.50. But hey, he still finished tied with five players who had won or would win majors: Jack Burke (1956 Masters, ’56 PGA), Tommy Bolt (’58 U.S. Open), Dow Finsterwald (’58 PGA), Art Wall (’59 Masters) and Tony Lema (’64 British Open).

Here, for your amusement, is Brodie’s agate line in the newspaper (“winnings” and all):

 

Yorba Linda final results

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After 11 seasons as an analyst on NBC’s NFL broadcasts, Brodie got serious about golf again and joined the Senior (now the Champions) Tour. He finally broke through in his 158th Brodie Top 10tournament, beating Chi Chi Rodriguez and 1969 Masters champ George Archer in a playoff to take the 1991 Security Pacific Senior Classic.

“Being able to play a game of this competitive level at over 50 years old is an even better feeling [than winning football games gave him],” he said after tapping in his winning birdie. “I enjoyed broadcasting, but I don’t think I’ll have too many people come up to me and say, ‘Why did you quit?’”

Three other golfing NFLers of note:

● Kyle Rote — Rote, the first pick in the 1951 draft out of SMU, could do just about anything. Before he even played for the New York Giants, he hit .348 in 66 at bats (with seven homers) for the Corpus Christi Aces of the Gulf Coast League. Midway through his NFL career, he moved from running back to wide receiver — something nobody does anymore — and had some nice seasons, catching 10 touchdown passes in 1960.

Rote was a terrific golfer, too. In June of ’51, before reporting to the Giants’ training camp as a rookie, he competed in a celebrity tournament in Washington, D.C. This is from The Sporting News:

“Rote was placed in the football division and easily took that prize with rounds of 75 and 70. There were 15 pros in the event, and Kyle’s total would have ranked seventh among them. His round of 70 was the best for the entire event except for a 69 shot by Cary Middlecoff.”

Middlecoff, of course, is a Hall of Famer who won two U.S. Opens (1949, ’56) and a Masters (’55).

● Joe Maniaci — It’s hard to say how Maniaci, a running back with the Bears in the ’30s and ’40s, compared to the others, but his golf exploits did get noticed. In 1939 this brief item ran in newspapers across the country:

Maniaci in '35 Amateur

 

 

 

 

 

Joe once said he picked up the sport because his brother Sam, who played football at Columbia, was pretty good at it, “and I just have the idea in my head I can beat him.”

“I became seriously interested in golf on the Pacific Coast. [The Bears] were out there to play a football game [against] the National [Football] League All-Stars. Jimmy Thomson and several other [pro] golfers were staying at the same hotel. Somehow, I outdrove Thomson a lot and was ahead of him for 14 holes in a match we got up one day. [Note: This is the same Thomson who finished second in the 1935 U.S. Open and ’36 PGA and was one of the biggest hitters in the game.]

“Thomson advised me: ‘If I were you, I’d take this game seriously.’ I’ve been hitting drives from 240 to 260 yards. I have broken four driver club heads without hitting the ground in getting power into my tee shots. Harry Cooper [another famed pro] told me that he’d like to tutor me in Chicago, said I’d make a pretty good amateur golfer.”

Maniaci must have added some distance to his tee shots, because this ran in Hugh Fullerton’s Associated Press column in 1944:

“Lt. Joe Maniaci . . . won the officers’ and chiefs’ golf tournament at the Bainbridge Naval Training Center, shooting a 77. Joe had a 335-yard drive on one hole and didn’t fumble once.”

● Joe Namath — OK, the Jets’ legendary quarterback wasn’t nearly as good with the sticks as Brodie, Rote and Maniaci, but he did give us one Memorable Golf Moment. Playing in an NFL/MLB event in Puerto Rico in 1973, he “overslept” and kept his partner, baseball great Willie Mays, waiting on the first tee for 40 minutes.

Willie was pissed — and threatened to walk out until he was repaired with Cardinals running back Donny Anderson. Broadway Joe wound up playing with Pirates pitcher Steve Blass.

“I don’t give a damn who it is,” Mays said. “I warmed up and was ready to play. My partner ought to be ready, too.”

The classic headline:

Namath, Mays headline

 

 

 

Namath’s apology rang a little hollow. After all, AP reported, the day before he’d “kept his partners — John Meyers, publisher of Sports Illustrated; Joseph Schroeder, clothing manufacturer, and columnist Buddy Martin of Gannett newspapers — waiting for close to two hours in the preliminary pro-am.”

Joe, Joe, Joe. Will you never learn? (Apparently not.)

Enjoy the golf today. When you’re not watching football, that is.

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Peyton Manning: chasing more history

Not sure how much was made of this, but 50 minutes into the Broncos’ Week 3 showdown with the Seahawks, Peyton Manning still hadn’t thrown for a touchdown. And if Seattle had shut him out, Manning likely would have lost his last chance to break the record for most consecutive games with a TD pass. He is, after all, 38 — old enough to be Johnny Manziel’s . . . much older stepbrother.

Almost on cue, though, Manning hit tight ends Julius Thomas and Jacob Tamme for scores in the last 9:20 to push his streak to 42 (and tie the game at 20). If he can keep it going through the end of the season, he’ll be at 55 — one more than the mark set by the Saints’ Drew Brees from 2009 to 2012.

It’s a record that has always gotten a fair amount of attention, largely because Hall of Famer Johnny Unitas held it for more than half a century — so long that people began to wonder whether his 47-game streak was unbreakable. But then Brees came along, helped by all the passer-friendly rules that didn’t exist in Unitas’ day (not to mention climate-controlled indoor stadiums and sticky gloves for receivers).

Soon enough, the Patriots’ Tom Brady took a run at Brees, only to have his streak peter out at 52 last season. And now Manning is giving it a go himself, at an age when most quarterbacks are ex-quarterbacks (or, like Johnny U., hanging on by their high tops).

What tends to be forgotten with all these footballs flying around is that it’s hard — even now — to throw a touchdown pass in every game of a season, never mind in 42, 47, 52 or 54 games straight. If it weren’t, everybody would do it. And everybody hasn’t done it.

Joe Montana, for instance, never did it. Neither did John Elway or, for that matter, Sammy Baugh. (And Slingin’ Sam’s seasons were a lot shorter.) You have to be a consistently good passer, of course, but you also have to have luck on your side. You can’t get hurt and miss some time. You can’t run into one of those wicked bad-weather games, the kind NFL Films loves to turn into comic opera. You can’t get yanked early in the regular-season finale because your playoff spot is already set (a fate that befell Manning in 2005).

Something else to keep in mind: When Tom Brady racked up a then-record 50 touchdown passes in 2007, there was still one game where he came up empty — Dec. 16 against the Jets.

By my count, only 18 quarterbacks in NFL-AFL history have thrown a TD pass in every game of a season, be it 16 games, 14, 12 or whatever. The shorter-than-you’d-expect list:

● Three times (2) – Brady, Patriots (2010-12); Brees, Saints (2010-11, ’13).

● Twice (4) – Manning, Broncos (2012-13); Dan Marino, Dolphins (1984, ’86); Unitas, Colts (1957, ’59); Cecil Isbell, Packers (1941-42). (Yes, Cecil Isbell. We’ll get back to him in a moment.)

● Once (12) – Philip Rivers, Chargers (2013); Ben Roethlisberger, Steelers (2013); Matthew Stafford, Lions (2011); Daunte Culpepper, Vikings (2004); Brett Favre, Packers (2003); Kurt Warner, Rams (1999); Dave Krieg, Seahawks (1984); Daryle Lamonica, Raiders (1969); Sonny Jurgensen, Redskins (1967); Frank Ryan, Browns (1966); Milt Plum, Browns (1960); Sid Luckman, Bears (1943).

In most cases, you’re talking about a guy’s career year, his absolute peak. Take Plum, for instance. Little remembered today, he had one of the greatest passing seasons of all time in Milt Plum football card1960. His rating of 110.4 — still the 11th best in history — was nearly twice that of the rest of the quarterbacks in the league (57.8). Mind-boggling. How did he accomplish this, you ask? Well, for starters, in the first 11 games (of a 12-game schedule) he was intercepted only once.

Which brings us to Isbell . . . and his unusual apparatus. Cecil, you see, had suffered a separated shoulder in college and was concerned about it popping out again. So he wore a harness that ran a chain from his waist to his (non-throwing) left arm and kept him from raising the arm above the shoulder. I wrote about this in a previous post.

How do you suppose the aforementioned quarterbacks would have done with a similar contraption attached to their anatomies? When Brees blew by Unitas in 2012, much was made — and rightfully so — of the difference between their two eras and how Johnny U.’s mark was more impressive (given how physical the defense was allowed to be with receivers, among other things). But maybe Isbell’s 23-game streak is the most amazing of all.

Especially when you consider he played in a single-wing offense, the Notre Dame Box, and at a time when the air was hardly filled with footballs. In 1942, the Lions (1), Steelers (2) and Brooklyn Dodgers (3) threw for fewer touchdowns all season than Cecil did in a single game against the Cardinals (5).

His 23-game run, counting a playoff for the Western Division title in ’41, stood as the record for 16 years, until Unitas broke it. Even now, tossing a TD pass in 23 consecutive games is no small feat. Plenty of Hall of Fame quarterbacks, recent ones, never pulled it off, including Montana (longest streak: 14), Elway (15), Troy Aikman (16), Steve Young (18), Jim Kelly (18), Dan Fouts (20) and Warren Moon (21).

So why haven’t you heard more about Isbell? Because he retired after five seasons to go into college coaching. The explanation he gave in Chuck Johnson’s book, The Green Bay Packers:

“I hadn’t been up in Green Bay long when I saw [coach Curly] Lambeau go around the locker room and tell players like [Arnie] Herber, [Milt] Gantenbein and Hank Bruder that they were all done with the Packers. These were good players who had given the team good service for years, and they had no money in the pot. But there was no sentiment involved. I sat there and watched, and then I vowed it would never happen to me. I’d quit before they came around to tell me.”

Who knows how much farther Isbell could have extended his streak? He was just 27 when he called it quits, and his go-to receiver, the legendary Don Hutson, still had some good years left. In a war-weakened league, the duo could have continued their assault on the record book until Hutson hung ’em up in 1945. (Cecil’s shoulder kept him out of the military.)

“Isbell was a master at any range,” Lambeau told Johnson. “He could throw soft passes, bullet passes or feathery lobs. He was the best, with Sid Luckman of the Bears a close second and Sammy Baugh of the Redskins a long third. Luckman wasn’t as versatile and Baugh couldn’t compare on the long ones.”

But then, Curly was prejudiced. Mel Hein, the Giants’ Hall of Fame center, ranked the passers a little differently — Baugh first, then Isbell and Luckman. “Isbell reminds me of the old days,” he once said. “It’s a rare thing in these times to see the passer fade out of his pocket or normal passing zone, but Isbell will do it casually, up to 15 yards or more. I remember seeing him back up 20 yards before he let go with a 55-yarder that beat us in a Los Angeles all-star game. This is where he differs chiefly from Baugh, who dotes on the short pass.”

(“It was passing at its most perfect and sensational,” Henry McLemore of the United Press said of the bomb to Hutson in the all-star game. “The ball traveled 67 yards in the air.”)

Here’s Isbell flipping a 31-yard touchdown pass to Joe Laws in the ’39 championship game win over the Giants. Note how he gets hit just after he releases the ball.

However you rank ’em, ol’ Cecil could play — and definitely belongs in the same sentence with Brees, Unitas and Manning, chain or no chain.

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

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The Princes of Ties

This is as good a time as any to mention — in the wake of Sunday’s Seahawks-Broncos classic — that this week is the 40th anniversary of the NFL’s first regular-season overtime game. Yup, until 1974, we would have had to settle for a 20-20 tie at CenturyLink Field . . . and done without Seattle’s eviscerating 80-yard touchdown drive in OT. Bummer.

(Actually, now that I think about it, there was no two-point conversion in ’74, either. So Denver would have trailed 20-19 after its last TD and been forced to onside kick. Amazing how much of an impact these rule changes have had.)

But back to the subject at hand: ties . . . and their virtual elimination. The Broncos, it turns out, were involved in the first regular-season overtime game, too. As fate would have it, things didn’t

Sept. 22, 1974

Sept. 22, 1974

work out that day quite as planned. Despite 15 minutes of bonus brutality, neither they nor the Steelers could break the 35-35 deadlock. Here’s Vito Stellino’s story in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette about this Sorta Great Moment in NFL History.

Chuck Noll, Pittsburgh’s Hall of Fame coach, had a funny quote afterward. “I don’t like the idea of overtime,” he said. “I have a tired football team that has to get ready for a football game next week. If we’d have one of these every week, it’d kill our team.”

(One of the reasons it’s funny, in retrospect, is that the Steelers didn’t have another OT game for four years.)

Fortunately for the NFL, there have been only 18 more ties in the four decades since, a huge — and necessary — break from the past. In the ’60s, after all, there 72 (counting the AFL), and in the first four years of the ’70s, before OT came in, there were 29. Way too many.

In recent seasons, David Akers (currently team-less) has been the NFL’s Prince of Ties. Akers played a principal role in two of the last three deadlocks — as a 49er in 2012 and an Eagle in ’08.

Two years ago against the Rams, he kicked a 33-yard field goal with three seconds left to make it 24-24 and send the game to overtime. Then he missed a 41-yarder in OT to preserve the stalemate. (Attaboy.)

Four seasons earlier, he was good from 27 yards with 5:18 remaining to pull Philadelphia into a 13-13 tie with the Bengals. Once again, the overtime was scoreless (thanks to an errant 47-yard field goal try by Cincinnati’s Shayne Graham with seven seconds to go).

Not that Akers’ historical contribution figures to be remembered. That’s the thing about tie games; because they lack resolution, they usually don’t leave any footprints. Heck, for a long time, the league didn’t even count them when calculating winning percentage. (The 7-1-6 record, for instance, compiled by the title-winning Bears in 1932 was considered a 7-1 mark. It was as if their other six games never happened.)

So why don’t we pay homage to those forgotten heroes who shined brightest in tie games — even if, at the end of the day, they had to settle for half a loaf? The honor roll:

● QB Tommy Maddox, Steelers (Nov. 10, 2002, 34-34 tie vs. Falcons) — 473 passing yards (a record for a tie game and the highest total in the NFL that season) and four touchdown passes weren’t enough to avoid a Dreaded Deadlock.

● LB Ken Harvey, Redskins (Nov. 23, 1997, 7-7 tie vs. Giants) — Racked up four sacks, the most in a tie game since the NFL began keeping track of the statistic in 1982. Alas, they were overshadowed

Wall 1, Frerotte 0

Wall 1, Frerotte 0

by the antics of Washington quarterback Gus Frerotte, who celebrated his team’s only score — on a 1-yard bootleg — by bashing his head into the end zone wall and suffering a neck injury that knocked him out of the game.

● WR John Gilliam, Cardinals (Oct. 26, 1969, 21-21 tie vs. Cleveland) — Had four catches for 192 yards and all three St. Louis touchdowns. The first two TDs measured 84 and 75 yards; the third, a 15-yarder, came with just eight seconds to play.

● RB Gary McDermott, Bills (Oct. 12, 1968, 14-14 tie vs. Dolphins) — McDermott tied the game in the final seconds with an eight-point play, catching a three-yard touchdown pass from Dan Darragh and a two-point conversion toss from Ed Rutkowski. He’s the last player, by the way, to do that. (It was also, to give it its proper due, one of only two games that year that 1-12-1 Buffalo didn’t lose.)

● QB Sonny Jurgensen, Redskins (1967) — Threw four touchdown passes in a tie game not once but twice, in a 28-28 tie with the Rams (Oct. 22) and a 35-35 tie with the Eagles (Dec. 3). In the latter, Norm Snead, the quarterback Philadelphia acquired for Sonny in a 1964 deal, also tossed four TD passes. So for a day, at least, it was an even trade.

● FB Jim Taylor, Packers (Dec. 13, 1964, 24-24 tie vs. Rams) — Gained 221 yards from scrimmage (165 rushing, 56 receiving) and ran for a touchdown to knot the score with two minutes left. He accomplished this, moreover, against the Rams’ vaunted Fearsome Foursome (Deacon Jones, Merlin Olsen et al.), which led the league in rushing defense.

● Lou Groza, Browns, and Jim Bakken, Cardinals (Sept. 20, 1964, 33-33 tie) — Only two kickers in history have booted as many as four field goals in a tie game: Groza and Bakken . . . in the same game. Groza connected from 32, 12, 37 and 25 yards, Bakken from 30, 51, 44 and 28 (his last with five seconds to go). That same afternoon, Lou scored his 1,000th NFL point and Jim broke the franchise record for longest field goal. All in all, not a bad day.

● WR Charley Hennigan, Houston Oilers (Oct. 13, 1961, 31-31 tie vs. Patriots) — Set an AFL mark — never broken — for receiving yards in a game with 272.

Larry Garron football card● RB Larry Garron, Patriots — Nobody got up for the tie games like Larry. Check out his performance in four of them:

1. Oct. 13, 1961 vs. Oilers (31-31) — 89-yard kickoff return touchdown.

2. Nov. 3, 1962 vs. Bills (28-28) — 95-yard kickoff return TD and, in the fourth quarter, a 23-yard scoring grab to tie it at 28. (In case you’re wondering, the aforementioned kickoff return TDs are the only two of his career.)

3. Nov. 17, 1963 vs. Chiefs (24-24) — 47-yard TD run.

4. Oct. 16, 1964 vs. Raiders (43-43) — Three TDs (one rushing, two receiving), as many as anyone has scored in a tie game.

● QB-K Bobby Layne, Steelers (Nov. 8, 1959, 10-10 tie vs. Lions) — Fired a 20-yard touchdown pass to Tom Tracy in the last few minutes, then kicked tying extra point. And consider the backdrop: It was the first time the Hall of Fame quarterback had faced the Lions since they traded him in ’58. Talk about a clutch tie.

● QB Frank Filchock, Redskins (Oct. 8, 1944, 31-31 tie vs. Eagles) — Tossed five touchdown passes, the most ever in a tie game. How did the Redskins end up with only 31 points, you ask? Simple. They botched four PATs.

● WR Don Hutson, Packers (Nov. 22, 1942, 21-21 tie vs. Giants) — Caught 14 passes for 134 yards and two touchdowns. The 14 receptions tied the NFL record for a single game.

Other items of interest:

Miller Farr vs. Don Maynard

Miller Farr vs. Don Maynard

● In 1967, the Houston Oilers’ Miller Farr picked off three passes in a 28-28 tie with the Jets. According to my research, that’s the most in a tie game. A month later, his brother Mel Farr rushed for 197 yards for the Lions in a 10-10 tie with the Vikings — the biggest rushing day in a tie game since 1960.

● Little-known fact: Not once since 1974, when overtime was adopted, has a two-point conversion been the last score in a tie game. (The Broncos, in other words, would have been the first if Sunday’s game had wound up a draw.)

● Another little-known fact: Nobody has ever kicked a really long field goal to cause a game to end in a tie. The longest I’ve come across is a 41-yarder by the Chiefs’ Nick Lowery in a 10-10 defensive struggle with the Browns in 1989. His boot wasn’t a buzzer-beater, either. It went through with 3:48 still on the clock.

● Finally, the ’74 Steelers club that played the Broncos to a 35-35 standoff in the first regular-season overtime game went on to take the title — making it the last Super Bowl winner with a tie on its resumé.

Sources: pro-football-reference.com, National Football League Fact and Record Book, The Sporting News American Football League Guide, The ESPN Pro Football Encyclopedia.

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The Jaguars’ 8 quarters from Hell

We can only hope the worst is over for the Jaguars, that they’ll never again be as Horrifically Bad as they were from the second half of Week 1 through the first half of Week 3. But with a rookie quarterback, Blake Bortles, now running the offense, you can never been 100 percent sure.

To summarize the Jags’ miseries:

They lost the second half to the Eagles, 34-0.

Then they lost the game to the Redskins, 41-10.

Then they lost the first half to the Colts, 30-0.

Add it all up and you get: Other Guys 105, Jacksonville 10 — a point differential of minus-95 in the equivalent of two games.

Any idea how many NFL teams have been outscored by that many points over a two-game span? Answer: one (since 1940, at least).

Indeed, I turned up just 10 in the last 75 seasons who were minus-80 or worse over a two-week stretch. (Wish I could broaden it to eight-quarter stretches like the Jaguars’, but the search engine at pro-football-reference.com doesn’t let me to do that.)

Anyway, here are the Terrible Ten:

WORST POINT DIFFERENTIAL IN A TWO-GAME STRETCH SINCE 1940

Games Team (W-L-T) PF PA Diff
1-2 1961 Raiders (2-12) 0 99 -99
1-2 1973 Saints (5-9) 10 102 -92
6-7 1966 Falcons (3-11) 10 100 -90
8-9 1949 N.Y. Bulldogs (1-10-1) 20 107 -87
13-14 2000 Browns (3-13) 7 92 -85
7-8 1966 Falcons (3-11) 20 105 -85
1-2 1989 Steelers (9-7) 10 92 -82
5-6 2009 Titans (8-8) 9 90 -81
1-2 1978 Colts (5-11) 0 80 -80
4-5 1966 Eagles (9-5) 17 97 -80

What’s fascinating is that several of these teams bounced back after hitting bottom. The ’89 Steelers actually made the playoffs — and beat the Oilers in the first round. In fact, they nearly made it to the AFC title game, dropping a 24-23 heartbreaker to the Broncos in the semifinals. (And Denver, of course, reached the Super Bowl.)

Also, the ’66 Eagles finished 9-5, and the ’09 Titans won eight of their last 10 with Vince Young at quarterback to end up 8-8.

FYI: The ’66 Falcons were a first-year expansion team, so they can almost be excused.  Still, that was a wicked three weeks they had, getting blown out 44-7 by the 49ers, 56-3 by Vince Lombardi’s Packers and 49-17 by the Browns.

Finally, a word about the ’61 Raiders: After beginning the season with back-to-back humiliations of 55-0 (Oilers) and 44-0 (Chargers), they fired coach Eddie Erdelatz and promoted offensive assistant Marty Feldman, “whose only prior head coaching was for Valley Junior College and the Stanford Frosh,” the Oakland Tribune reported.

I know what you’re thinking. But, no, it’s not this Marty Feldman, the guy who played Igor in Young Frankenstein:

It’s this Marty Feldman:

Feldman with Raiders sweatshirt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two years later, Al Davis arrived on the scene, and Pride and Poise quickly replaced 55-0 and 44-0. If only the Jaguars could find an Al Davis of their own.

Source: pro-football-reference.com

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If Pete Rozelle, one-time cub reporter, covered the NFL today

The question I’ve been wondering about all weekend is: What would Pete Rozelle, cub reporter, have written about Roger Goodell’s news conference Friday? Depending on who you’ve been reading lately, Rozelle either (a.) parted the Red Sea or (b.) landed a spaceship on the moon during his nearly 30 years as NFL commissioner.

But long before that he was an aspiring journalist at Compton Junior College whose dream job was to be sports editor of the Los Angeles Times. He even did some stringing for the Long Beach Press-Telegram while serving as the student-sports information director at Compton. Why don’t we flip through Rozelle’s clip file to get a feel for his prose style? All these stories are from 1947 and ’48, which would make him 21 or 22 years young.

Here’s Pete covering a pivotal JC football game in 1947:

Rozelle will o the wisp Negro

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And here’s Pete following up Michigan’s 49-0 wipeout of Southern Cal in the 1948 Rose Bowl:

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And here’s Pete rhapsodizing about Compton, California’s own Duke Snider, who in 1948 was in the second year of his Hall of Fame career with the Brooklyn Dodgers:

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And here’s Pete sitting down with Phog Allen, the legendary Kansas basketball coach:

Rozelle Phog Allen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And here’s Pete at the scene of a dramatic JC basketball game:

Screen Shot 2014-09-19 at 8.00.34 PMAnd finally, here’s ubiquitous Pete reporting on high school football — reporting, in fact, on his alma mater:

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Two things are cool about this story. First, the Don Klosterman who played quarterback for Compton High is the same Don Klosterman who was later general manager of the Los Angeles Rams — the job Rozelle had when he became commissioner.

Second, Compton’s athletic teams were/are called the Tarbabes — short for Tartar Babies. Is this a great country or what?

So if we took in all this information and tried to come up with a Typical Pete Rozelle Lead Paragraph coming out of Goodell’s news conference, it might read something like this:

NEW YORK — Embattled Roger Goodell, his boyish red hair giving evidence to barely 40 of his 55 years, addressed Friday the scandal that threatens to sound a death knell to his commissionership and take a wrecking ball to the NFL’s image. Grilled by some of the nation’s top sports writers about his botched disciplining of “Rapid Ray” Rice, the Ravens’ will-o’-the-wisp Negro halfback, and “All the Way Adrian” Peterson, the Vikings’ jet-propelled, two-time rushing champ, Goodell admitted mistakes and promised to make things right during a tension-soaked session.

Rozelle took an amazing elevator ride after his byline stopped appearing in the Press-Telegram. Within a dozen years — at the age of 33 — he was NFL commissioner. The path he took:

May 11, 1948:

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Feb. 22, 1952:

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April 9, 1957:

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And lastly, Jan. 27, 1960:

Screen Shot 2014-09-19 at 9.31.09 PM

 

Not bad for a former Compton High Tarbabe.

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Ray Rice, Roger Goodell and journalistic hyperbole

The unconscionable conduct of a handful of NFL players — Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson most visibly — “has mushroomed into the biggest crisis confronting a commissioner in the NFL’s 95-year history,” ESPN.com reporters Don Van Natta Jr. and Kevin Van Valkenburg wrote the other day.

And they make that claim more than once in their investigative piece on embattled Roger Goodell — and how he and the league fumbled the handling of Rice’s domestic-violence case. Toward they end, they again call it “the worst crisis in NFL history,” adding, “some league sponsors, most notably Anheuser-Busch, are jittery.”

Worst crisis in NFL history. That certainly takes in a lot of territory. Also, if you’re going to use words like “biggest” and “worst,” it helps to define your terms. If by “biggest” and “worst” you mean “loudest,” you’re probably right. Nowadays, with social media and the 24-hour news cycle and nonstop sports chatter on TV and radio, everything is louder. But that doesn’t make the subject of the noise any more momentous. Our airwaves are a huge vacuum. Something has to fill it. The beast must be fed.

But if by “biggest” and “worst” you mean “most threatening to the league” — as far as its financial well-being and/or place in the sports hierarchy are concerned — the current crisis doesn’t even make the Top 5 all time, and pales in comparison to a few. You want a crisis? How about these:

● The Great Depression. When Black Thursday struck in October 1929, the NFL was in just its 10th season. Its success was by no means assured. College football was still far more popular, and baseball, of course, was king. On top of that, the pro football player wasn’t exactly considered a Shining Example of American Manhood. (More like a mercenary lout.)

Then the stock market crashed and, well, what do you think that was like? Do you suppose it might have been a bigger deal than what’s going on now with Rice, Peterson and the rest? By 1932, the league had shrunk to eight teams — three in New York, two in Chicago and one Boston, Portsmouth (Ohio) and Green Bay. Five cities, that’s it. And two had populations of less than 50,000.

In the late ’30s things began to get better for the NFL — as they did for the rest of the country — but it was touch and go for a while.

● World War II. Yeah, let’s not forget that. With so many of its players in the military, the league thought about shutting down in 1943 — only the Cleveland Rams did — and some franchises were merged to keep them viable. As the war went on, teams were so hurting for manpower they suited up a few 18-year-olds and talked retired players like the Redskins’ Tiger Walton, who had been out of the game since 1934, into making a comeback. (Only 12 of 330 draft picks in 1944 played in the NFL that season.)

“If the war had lasted a little longer,” Bears Hall of Famer Sid Luckman once said, “the NFL might have gotten down to the level of semi-pro ball.”

● The American Football League. Sorry, but a decade-long battle with a rival league (1960-69) — a league that mounted the most serious challenge to the NFL’s monopoly — strikes me as a much bigger crisis than L’Affaire Rice. Competition from the AFL increased salaries dramatically, forced the NFL to expand earlier than it would have (to Dallas, Minnesota, Atlanta and New Orleans) and hurt profit margins. And in the last two seasons before the merger, the AFL’s Jets and Chiefs won the Super Bowl. The horror.

● Steroids. We tend forget what a stir the steroid epidemic created in the ’80s. It wasn’t just a health issue, it was a competitive fairness issue. Let’s face it, nothing riles fans quite like the idea of cheating – and it’s damaging when such a cloud hovers over a league. Once the problem came to a head, Commissioner Pete Rozelle dealt with it quickly and decisively, but only after years of whispers and denial.

● Concussions. When all the votes are in, I wouldn’t be surprised if this crisis — which is far from over — turns out to be far worse for the NFL than the recent rash of misbehavior. Indeed, if anything brings down pro football, it will be the growing suspicion that the game is simply too dangerous, that the physical cost isn’t worth the financial gain. That doesn’t mean the league won’t continue to exist in some form; but it’ll be seriously diminished, and it won’t attract nearly as many of the best athletes.

One other crisis is worthy of mention, even if it doesn’t crack the Top 5. In 1946 New York police uncovered an attempt to fix the NFL championship game. This led to two Giants players being banished from the league and, naturally, much negative publicity — at a time when the rival All-America Conference was trying to gain traction. As difficult as life is for Goodell, I doubt he’d swap places with Bert Bell, the commissioner in ’46. (The AAC, after all, was a worthy adversary that gave us the Browns and 49ers.)

Anyway, that’s six crises in the NFL’s 95-year history I’d rate ahead of the one we’re now obsessing about. And I’m sure I could come up with several more if I wanted to think about it a bit longer. But I’ve got other blogs to throw on the fire, other fishy statements to fry.

So I’ll finish here: Crises aren’t bigger nowadays because the NFL is bigger; they’re actually smaller, generally, but for the same reason: because the game is so firmly established. It was in the early years that you had to worry. A crisis back then was like a baby running a temperature. The league hadn’t built up the immunities it has now.

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Darren Sproles and the NFL’s all-time Mighty Mites

Darren Sproles, hero of the Vertically Challenged and one of the best multi-purpose backs of his generation, was at it again Monday night in Indianapolis. The Eagles’ 5-foot-6, 181-pound dynamo had a career-high 178 yards from scrimmage as Philadelphia rallied to ruin the Colts’ evening, 30-27. (The breakdown: 152 receiving — also a career best — and 26 rushing.)

That means that in Sproles’ two outings since joining Philly as a free agent, he’s had momentum-turning 49-yard touchdown run against the Jaguars and a highlight-reel game against Indy, one that included catches of 57 and 51 and a 19-yard draw-play TD.

Nine years into his career, defensive coordinators are still trying to cover him out of the backfield with linebackers. (You almost felt sorry for Indy’s Josh McNary on the 57-yarder.) They’re still trying to pretend, when he comes into the game, that he doesn’t require special attention. Then again, maybe they don’t notice that he’s out there. He’s very adept at hiding behind his blockers.

Sproles’ running style might best be described as Duck and Dart — duck under the flailing arms of would-be tacklers and dart into (and through) hairline cracks in the defense. He doesn’t return kickoffs anymore, and he hasn’t run back a punt for a score since 2011, but he still has it in him. Even at 31, he’s got a nice burst.

He’s also been fortunate to play for coaches who maximized his abilities — first Norv Turner in San Diego, then Sean Payton in New Orleans and now Chip Kelly in Philadelphia. By the time he’s done, he’ll have, by my guesstimate, 7,500 of the quietest yards from scrimmage in NFL history. I say “quietest” because he’s never made the Pro Bowl . . . and probably never will.

Here’s all you really need to know about Sproles: In 10 playoff games, he’s scored seven TDs. (And in one of them, all he did was return kicks.) OK, here’s something else you could stand to know about him: In 2011 he just missed becoming the first running back in 53 years to carry 75-plus times in a season and average 7 yards an attempt. His numbers: 87 rushes, 603 yards, 6.93 average.

Which raises the question: Where does he rank among pro football’s all-time mighty mites? Answer: Well, he’s certainly a first-teamer. A look at some other notable players who measured 5-6 and under:

● Joey Sternaman, QB, 1922-25, ’27-30 Bears — 5-6, 152. Sternaman, a fine “field general” (as they were called in those days) and kicker, led the NFL in scoring in 1924 with 75 points (six touchdowns, nine field goals, 12 PATs), was third the next year with 62 and made all-pro both seasons. (He also was the younger brother of Dutch Sternaman, who shared ownership of the Bears with George Halas in the early days).

● Gus Sonnenberg, T-FB, 1923, ’25-28, ’30 Columbus/Detroit/Providence — 5-6, 196.   A wild man on and off the field, Sonnenberg, like Sternaman, did some of his best work with his right foot, booting nine field goals, including a 52-yarder, in 1926. He was voted all-NFL three times and started on the Steam Roller’s 1928 title team. He then turned to professional wrestling and became the heavyweight “champion” of the world (I use quotation marks because, hey, this is wrestling we’re talking about.)

Henry "Two Bits" Homan

Henry “Two Bits” Homan

● Henry “Two Bits” Homan, B, 1925-30 Frankford — 5-5, 145. Helped the Yellow Jackets win their only championship in 1926 by catching a last-second touchdown pass in the big December game against the Bears. (The thrower of the pass? Houston Stockton, grandfather of basketball great John Stockton.) Got his nickname, one of his teammates told me, from Guy Chamberlin, Frankford’s Hall of Fame player-coach. It was the same name Chamberlin had given his bulldog.

● Butch Meeker, B, 1930-31 Providence — 5-3, 143. Butch’s career was short and relatively nondescript, but he did have one shining moment. In a 7-7 tie against Frankford in 1930, he returned the opening kickoff 95 yards for a TD and then — brace yourself — kicked the extra point. Has any other 5-3 player ever done that?

● Gil “Frenchy” LeFebvre, B, 1933-35 Cincinnati/Detroit — 5-6, 155. LeFebvre took a different route to the NFL: He developed his football talents in the Navy rather than in college. As a rookie, though, he set a record that stood for 61 years: He returned a punt 98 yards for a touchdown to nail down a 10-0 victory over the Brooklyn Dodgers. Fielding the kick was a risky maneuver that surprised the Cincinnati crowd, the Associated Press reported, but “gasps turned to cheers as the runner . . . started down the field.” It was LeFebvre’s only TD in the NFL.

● Willis “Wee Willie” Smith, B, 1934 Giants — 5-6, 148. Let’s spend a little time with Smith, because I came across a story about him, written by Henry McLemore of the United Press, that actually quoted him (a rarity in the ’30s). Smith wasn’t just undersized, you see, he was also — unbeknownst to most — blind in one eye.

The first time Giants coach Steve Owen saw him on the practice field, he said, “Son, you’re too damn little. You wouldn’t last a first down in this business. You may have been a son of a gun out there with [the University of] Idaho, but these pro guys would bust you in two.”

Smith was undaunted. “Maybe they will,” he replied. “But what about letting me hang around until they do? My family will send for the body, so it won’t cost you anything.”

Willis "Wee Willie" Smith

Willis “Wee Willie” Smith

In his only year in the league, Wee Willie rushed 80 times for a 4-yard average, scored two touchdowns on the ground and threw for another as the Giants won the title. He explained his running technique to McLemore this way: “I just sorta roll with those big guys’ tackles like a fighter does with a punch on the jaw. I make it a point never to meet one of those guys head on. I duck ’em, like you would a train.”

Except for one time, when his competitiveness got the best of him and he sank his helmet into the stomach of Bronko Nagurski, the Bears’ block of granite. Nagurski’s alleged reply: “Mickey Mouse, you better watch where you’re going, else you’re going to hurt somebody.”

FYI: Smith’s listed weight of 148 might have been a bit on the high side. Dr. Harry March, the Giants’ first general manager, insisted Wee Willie was “about 140 stripped,” and McLemore joked: “Feed Willis Smith a dozen alligator pears, drape him in a double-breasted coat, give him the Dionne quintuplets to hold, and he might weigh all of 145 pounds.”

● Buddy Young, B, 1947-55 New York Yankees/Dallas Texans/Baltimore Colts — 5-4, 175.  Young needs less of an introduction than the rest. After all, he’s in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Few backs in his era were more dangerous running, receiving and returning. Not only did he have world-class speed (10.5 for 100 meters), he had — there’s no denying this — a weird-shaped body to try to tackle. What a nightmare in the open field.

● Billy Cross, RB, 1951-53 Cardinals — 5-6, 151. In The Sporting News, Ed Prell described him as “almost as small as the midget Bill Veeck of the St. Louis Browns smuggled into baseball.”

"Little Billy" Cross

“Little Billy” Cross

Whenever a sportswriter brought up Cross’ weight, Billy would be sure to say, smiling, “And that’s before a game.”

The kid was a terrific athlete, though, who at West Texas A&M high jumped 6-1 — seven inches above his height — and earned Little All-America honors as the quintessential scatback. In his second NFL game, he scored on an 18-yard run and a 39-yard pass against the Bears, and in his three seasons he averaged about 50 yards from scrimmage per Sunday. Pretty productive.

“When I’m going into a line and see a guy like [Hall of Famer] Arnie Weinmeister of the Giants,” Cross once said, “I know I’m not going through. He only outweighs me by 100 pounds. . . . But give me a little daylight, and the chase is on.”

● “Mini Mack” Herron, RB, 1973-75 Patriots/Falcons — 5-5, 170. Drugs derailed Herron’s career, but he’ll always have 1974. That was the season he set an NFL record for all-purpose yards (2,444), tied for third in the league in touchdowns (12) and also ranked high in yards from scrimmage (1,298, seventh), punt return yards (517, second), punt return average (14.8, fourth) and several other categories. He and fullback Sam “Bam” Cunningham were quite a combination in the New England backfield.

● Lionel “Little Train” James, RB-WR, 1984-88 Chargers — 5-6, 171. In 1985 James became the first NFL running back to rack up 1,000 receiving yards in a season — 1,027 to be exact. (Later the same afternoon, the 49ers’ Roger Craig became the second.) Just one back has gained more (Marshall Faulk, 1,048 with the Super Bowl-winning ’99 Rams).

And Sproles makes 11. My own personal Mount Rushmore: Young, Sonnenberg, Sproles and Herron (what might have been).

Sources for statistics: pro-football-reference.com, Total Football.

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