We’re coming up on the 35th anniversary of one of the greatest seasons ever by an NFL player. Was it as great as Eric Dickerson’s 2,105 rushing yards in 1984, Peyton Manning’s 55 touchdown passes in 2013 or J.J. Watt’s both-sides-of-the-ball ridiculousness last year? Well, it’s hard to compare one position to another, but put it this way: Nobody has come close to doing what Raiders cornerback Lester Hayes did in 1980 — not in the modern era, at least. And given the gap that exists between Hayes and The Rest, it’s possible nobody ever will.
Lester’s performance that season was truly off the charts — so far off that his record might be resistant to rule changes, a longer schedule and anything else that tends to make the past disappear. In 20 games that season, including the playoffs, he intercepted 18 passes . . . and had another four picks wiped out by penalties. It almost doesn’t seem possible.
Let me lay out the numbers for you, then I’ll get into the season itself. Hayes had a league-leading 13 interceptions in the regular season — one off Night Train Lane’s mark — and another five in Oakland’s four playoff games. His total of 18 is five more than anyone else has had since 1960. Five. (Before that, the seasons and playoffs were so much shorter that nobody really had a chance to pick off 18 passes.)
Here’s Hayes’ closest competition:
MOST INTERCEPTIONS IN A SEASON SINCE 1960 (PLAYOFFS INCLUDED)
Year
Player, Team
G
RS
PS
Total
1980
Lester Hayes, Raiders*
20
13
5
18
1969
Emmitt Thomas, Chiefs* (AFL)
17
9
4
13
1981
Everson Walls, Cowboys
18
11
2
13
1963
Fred Glick, Oilers (AFL)
14
12
DNA
12
1964
Paul Krause, Redskins
14
12
DNA
12
1964
Dainard Paulson, Jets (AFL)
14
12
DNA
12
1974
Emmitt Thomas, Chiefs
14
12
DNA
12
1987
Barry Wilburn, Redskins*
15
9
3
12
1976
Monte Jackson, Rams
16
10
2
12
1975
Mel Blount, Steelers*
17
11
1
12
1979
Mike Reinfeldt, Oilers
19
12
0
12
2006
Asante Samuel, Patriots
19
10
2
12
2007
Antonio Cromartie, Chargers
19
10
2
12
*won title
Yes, Hayes played in more games than the other defensive backs, and yes, some of them — the DNA (Does Not Apply) guys — didn’t even make the playoffs. But them’s the breaks. Besides, his interceptions per game of 0.9 is the highest of the bunch. (Next: Glick, Krause, Paulson and Thomas ’74 at 0.86).
It’s worth noting, too, that the league-wide interception rate in 1980 was 4.6 percent. Last year it was 2.5 — and if the Competition Committee continues to favor the offense, it no doubt will decline even further. That’s just going to make it harder to pile up 18 picks in a season. (Another way to look at it: In 1980 there were 627 INTs in 13,705 pass attempts. In 2014 there were 450 in 17,879 — 177 fewer in 4,174 more attempts.)
Now that the cold, hard data has been dispensed with, why don’t we take Hayes’ historic season interception by interception? Lester was quite a character, even by the Raiders’ oddball standards — the kind of player Twitter was made for. (Or maybe not. There was no telling, after all, what might come out of his mouth.)
Hayes considered himself, for instance, more than just an all-pro corner. In his mind, he was “the only true Jedi in the National Football League” (which was only to be expected, I suppose, of a player who claimed to have seen The Empire Strikes Back 300 times).
To Lester, money was “deceased presidents,” as in: “If the president of Australia doubled my salary and I was not under contract to the Raiders, I’d be on the first flight across the International Dateline. . . . It’s [all about] the deceased presidents, baby. In 1995, when the cost of bread is $5 per loaf, how is one to procure his loaf of bread?”
At Texas A&M, where he’d played linebacker, they called him “Judge.” That, he explained, stemmed from “a statement I made before we played Texas. I said our defense was going to hold court on Earl Campbell. I sentenced him to 2 yards on 20 carries.” (Campbell finished with 20 on 18.)
In 1980 Hayes was judge, jury and executioner as far as NFL quarterbacks were concerned. If they threw a ball anywhere near him, it was likely to wind up in his stickum-coated mitts (in the days when the Crazy Glue-like stuff was legal). How his season went:
● Week 1 (beat Chiefs, 27-14): Intercepted a Steve Fuller pass, setting up a field goal that made it 24-7 in the fourth quarter.
● Week 2 (lost to Chargers in overtime, 30-24): Had one of the Raiders’ five INTs against Dan Fouts.
● Week 3 (beat Redskins, 24-21): In the fourth quarter, with Washington at the Oakland 21, he picked off Joe Theismann’s throw to halt a drive.
● Week 4 (lost to Bills, 24-7): Returned an interception 48 yards for a touchdown, the Raiders’ only score. Victim: Joe Ferguson.
● Week 8 (beat Seahawks, 33-14): Had two INTs, both off Jim Zorn. The first led to a TD, the second to a field goal.
● Week 9 (beat Dolphins, 16-10): From the AP account: “Lester Hayes had one interception, and would have had another — on which he rambled 95 yards for an apparent TD — had the play not been called back by an Oakland offside penalty.” QB: Uncertain (either David Woodley or Don Strock).
● Week 10 (beat Bengals, 28-17): A one-INT day could have been a three-INT day if two more picks hadn’t been nullified by offside penalties. The one he did get came on the final play of the first half when Jack Thompson threw up a Hail Mary.
● Week 11 (beat Seahawks, 19-17): With 4:20 left, he intercepted a Zorn pass and returned it 19 yards to the Oakland 39. The Raiders then drove to the Seattle 10, where Chris Bahr booted a game-winning 28-yard field goal.
● Week 12 (lost to Eagles in Super Bowl preview, 10-7): Picked off a Ron Jaworski pass at some point, but the newspaper stories don’t say when. (Unfortunately, the league’s gamebook archives only go back to 1981, which is why I have to rely on newspapers.)
● Week 13 (beat Broncos, 9-3): Another end-of-the-first-half-Hail-Mary job, this time at the expense of Craig Morton.
● Week 15 (beat Broncos, 24-21): Had a second-quarter INT. (Matt Robinson threw it.) It was followed by a field goal that put Oakland ahead to stay, 10-7.
● Week 16 (beat Giants, 33-17): The New York Times: “Late in the second quarter, with the Giants trailing by two touchdowns, [Scott] Brunner overthrew a pass to [running back Billy] Taylor. It was intercepted by Lester Hayes, his 13th steal of the season, and returned 50 yards” — helping to put another three points on the board.
● Playoff Game 1 (beat Oilers, 27-7): Thanks, once again, to the wonders of YouTube, I was able to find video of all five of Hayes’ postseason picks. This is the first — in the end zone in the third quarter, when Oakland had a tenuous 10-7 lead.
And this is the second, near the end, with Oilers quarterback Ken Stabler — Lester’s former Raiders teammate — facing a third-and-18 at the Houston 2:
Touchdown — Hayes’ second of the season. He also had two sacks that day. Just so you know: No defensive back has had a two-interception/two-sack game since the sack became an official statistic in 1982. Three linebackers have accomplished the feat, though – the Bengals’ James Francis (1992), the Dolphins’ Robert Jones (1998) and the Steelers’ Joey Porter (2002). That’s the kind of year it was for Lester.
● Playoff Game 2 (beat Browns, 14-12): Suckered Brian Sipe into two more INTs. Pick No. 1 came on a third-and-10 play from the Cleveland 48 midway through the first quarter:
Pick No. 2 was yet another a Hail Mary situation – just before halftime:
NBC analyst John Brodie made a classic comment during the replay: “A lot of fellas would be content to just bat it down. Not Lester. Put another skin on the wall.”
Exactly. Anything Hayes could get his hands on, he was going to catch. In that instance he was trying to keep the ball away from a 6-foot-4 former college basketball player (wideout Dave Logan), so who can blame him?
Amazingly — given all his interceptions — Lester didn’t have the most memorable INT in that game. The Raiders’ strong safety, Mike Davis, did, picking off a Brian Sipe pass in the end zone in the final minute to preserve the victory. The Browns were at the Oakland 13, in chip-shot field goal range, when Sipe tried to hit tight end Ozzie Newsome . . . and connected with Davis instead:
● Playoff Game 3 (beat Chargers, 34-27): Much of the talk before the AFC title game was about the matchup between Hayes and John Jefferson — all-pro corner vs. all-pro receiver. And sure enough, in the early going at the Oakland 14, Fouts wanted to go to Jefferson, who had lined up in the right slot. But JJ slipped, which resulted in Lester’s 18th and last interception of the season:
Hayes never had another year like 1980. Nobody has another year like that. In fact, he never had more than four interceptions in any of his final six seasons, though he continued to make Pro Bowls. Whether this had anything to do with the banning of stickum in ’81 is an open question. He used it, uh, liberally (as the photo at the bottom shows).
Still, he had some nice moments after that, including this one during the Raiders’ 1983 playoff run:
Before the Super Bowl against the Redskins, he said (in typical Lesterese): “As long as I procure those 72,000 deceased presidents on my birthday [Jan. 22 — the date of the game], that’s all I care about. It’s my destiny to spend my birthday intercepting three passes and scoring three touchdowns, a feat no other defensive back has ever done. I will do a 360-degree reverse slam dunk [over the crossbar] after each TD. It’s inevitable.”
Alas, he fell three interceptions, three touchdowns and three 360-degree reverse slam dunks short, but no matter. The Raiders won anyway, 38-9. Besides, he’ll always have 1980. And when I say “always,” I’m pretty sure I mean always. Who’s ever going to have more 18 interceptions in a season?
Lester Hayes, his right hand covered with goo (stickum), reaches for a towel.
With the draft in the books and the Slow Season officially upon us, let’s have a little fun today and revisit one of the more underappreciated games in pro football history: Super Bowl IV — the last between those sworn enemies, the NFL and AFL, before they merged into the colossus that bestrides the sports world.
Happily, the Chiefs’ 23-7 win over the Vikings can be viewed in its entirety on YouTube. It’s the Canadian (CBC) telecast (as is clear from the commercials, one of which stars hockey legend Bobby Orr). Warning: There’s no telling how long the video will be available, so try to watch it before the Copyright Police springs into action. You won’t be disappointed.
We’ll get to The Game Itself in a few moments. But first, allow me to pay homage to the Chiefs defense, that group of Eleven Angry Men who backboned their run to the Super Bowl — and smothered the Vikes therein. When great defenses are discussed, you don’t always hear much about the ’69 Chiefs, and that’s a shame. After all, five members of the unit have been inducted into the Hall of Fame, and a sixth, free safety Johnny Robinson, should probably be in Canton, too. (He was a finalist six straight years in the ’80s but, for reasons known only to the selection committee, wasn’t able to break through. Maybe he’ll make it someday as a veterans candidate.)
Check out these numbers: Against the Chiefs, those three estimable quarterbacks had a combined passer rating of 21 (113 attempts, 48 completions, 42.5 percent completion rate, 0 touchdowns, 10 interceptions). Granted, it was a different game then, one in which the defense had more of a fighting chance, but the Kansas City ‘D’ was phenomenal by any standard.
Consider: Opposing passers had a postseason rating of 31 against the 2000 Ravens, arguably the best defense in the last 25 years (at least). For the ’85 Bears, the rating was 39.2. For the ’86 Giants, it was 48.5. That should give you some idea of how otherworldly the ’69 Chiefs were.
Then again, maybe I should just introduce you to these guys individually. That’ll give you an even better idea of how loaded the ’69 Chiefs were.
● LE Jerry Mays (6-4/252, 30 years old) — Seven Pro Bowls (or AFL All-Star Games, as the case may be). Played 10 seasons.
● LT Curley Culp (6-2/265, 23) — Hall of Famer. Six Pro Bowls. Former NCAA heavyweight wrestling champ (read: knew leverage like nobody’s business). The Broncos drafted him in the second round in 1968, tried unsuccessfully to turn him into an offensive guard, then traded him to the Chiefs for a ’69 No. 4 (OG Mike Schnitker). How’s that for a deal? Played 14 seasons.
● RT Buck Buchanan (6-7/270, 29) — Hall of Famer. Eight Pro Bowls. An absolute monster. Played 13 seasons.
● RE Aaron Brown (6-5/255, 26) — Second team all-AFL by The Sporting News in 1969, first team all-AFC by The Associated Press in ’70 and ’71. Wonderfully athletic, disruptive pass rusher who would have had an even better career if it hadn’t been for injuries. Played eight seasons.
● LLB Bobby Bell (6-3/228, 29) — Hall of Famer. Nine Pro Bowls. Simply one of the best players in pro football in that period. Returned six of his 26 interceptions for touchdowns, tying him for most by any modern linebacker. Played 12 seasons.
● MLB Willie Lanier (6-1/245, 24) — Hall of Famer. Eight Pro Bowls. Was far from just a run-stopper, as his 27 picks (one more than Bell) attest. Played 11 seasons.
● RLB Jim Lynch (6-1/235, 24) — One Pro Bowl. Consensus second team all-AFL in 1968 and ’69. Played 11 seasons.
● LCB Jim Marsalis (5-11/194, 24) — Two Pro Bowls. Went to the AFL All-Star Game that year as a rookie and was all-pro in 1970. Played eight seasons.
● RCB Emmitt Thomas (6-2/192, 26) — Hall of Famer. Five Pro Bowls. Led the AFL with nine interceptions in 1969 and added four more in the postseason — 13 in 17 games. Only two players have had more than four INTs in a single playoff year. (The Houston Oilers’ Vernon Perry in ’79 and the Raiders’ Lester Hayes in ’80 each had five.) Played 13 seasons.
● SS Jim Kearney (6-2/206, 26) — The only player on the unit who never made the Pro Bowl or the all-conference team. All Kearney ever did was run back four picks for touchdowns in 1972, tying the NFL record (which still stands). Played 12 seasons.
● FS Johnny Robinson (6-1/205, 31) — Eight Pro Bowls. Tied for the AFL lead in 1966 with 10 interceptions and led the NFL in ’70 with the same number. Was a nice offensive player his first two years, racking up over 1,000 yards from scrimmage in ’60 (458 rushing, 611 receiving), then switched to defense and had 57 INTs over the next decade. Played 12 seasons. Again, I ask: Why isn’t this man in the Hall?
One more argument for Robinson: Only four defensive backs have had more than 57 interceptions in a 10-year period. Three are in Canton (Em Tunnell, 73; Paul Krause, 62; Night Train Lane, 58), and the other (Darren Sharper, 58) seemed like a semi-lock for Canton, too, until he was convicted of rape in March. Johnny also had 16 games in which he had two-or-more picks, as many as anybody since 1960. (Krause also had 16 multiple-pick games. No one else has had more than 12.)
To review: Five Hall of Famers (one more than the Steel Curtain Steelers, one less than the five-championships-in-seven-seasons Packers). Nine players who went to the Pro Bowl, another who was twice voted all-AFC and another who, though he didn’t earn any individual honors, has shared an NFL record for 43 years (and may well share it for another 43). And finally, tremendous longevity — careers of 10, 14, 13, 8, 12, 11, 11, 8, 13, 12 and 12 seasons (average: 11.3).
Imagine assembling a defense like that today. On second thought, don’t bother. Given the salary cap, the movement brought about by free agency and the general dilution of the product (six more franchises), it would be nigh impossible. That’s the defense the Chiefs threw at you.
Yeah, they haven’t been back to the Super Bowl since, while the Vikings played in three more in the next seven seasons (and suffered three more crushing losses). But I’ll always believe that, at that point in time, Kansas City was playing defense about as well as it has ever been played. I mean, there were no Gus Frerottes, no Jay Schroeders, no Dieter Brocks on their dance card. They were going against the iron — and shutting them down.
Something else to ponder: Eight of K.C.’s Magnificent Eleven were black (Mays, Lynch and Robinson being the exceptions). The Chiefs, from the beginning, were an equal-opportunity organization. All owner Lamar Hunt and coach Hank Stram cared about was winning. The Vikings defense, by contrast, had four blacks. Don’t get me wrong, the Minnesota ‘D’ — the vaunted Purple People Eaters — was outstanding. I’m just sayin’.
Remember, when the AFL came into being, the Redskins still had an all-white roster and some other NFL teams, notably the Lions, didn’t have the greatest track record in terms of integration. It’s one of the biggest impacts the AFL had on pro football. It brought more blacks into the game.
At any rate, from front to back — and from side to side, for that matter — the ’69 Chiefs defense was one of the all-time terrors. If Buchanan didn’t get you, Bell would . . . or some other member of this illustrious group. Make no mistake: Super Bowl IV was no upset. The Vikings offense was overmatched. And Kapp and Co., I’ll just remind you, were pretty potent. Minnesota put up 50-plus points three times that season. (Of course, the week before K.C. held them to seven points in the AFL title game, the Raiders had dropped 56 on the Houston Oilers. As I said, the Chiefs could strangle the best attacks.)
OK, on to the game — Super Bowl IV at New Orleans’ Tulane Stadium. My thoughts:
● If you’re a pro football lover of a certain age, this final AFL-NFL championship game has a special place in your memory bank. The war between the established NFL and the try-anything AFL produced, for my money, the most entertaining decade in the game’s history. But rather than go off on a long tangent here, let me just say: To fully understand what I’m talking about, you had to be there. Pro football in that era was a weekly spectacular, and it emerged from those years as the No. 1 sport in the nation (to baseball’s continuing chagrin).
Apart from the nostalgia, though, the Chiefs-Vikings collision was the last time the Super Bowl was truly an Us-vs.-Them affair. Thereafter, no matter how delicious the matchup, it was Us vs. Us, which, let’s face it, takes something away from the game. No Super Bowl team these days is fighting for the honor of its conference — not the way the Chiefs (twice), Raiders and Jets fought for the credibility of the AFL in the ’60s. And when the worm turned at the end of the decade, it was, for many fans, like finding out the earth wasn’t flat or the sun didn’t revolve around the earth. Jets 16, Colts 7 was that cataclysmic.
● The Chiefs were such a cutting-edge team — a modern team. Never mind their dozen black starters, they also did a lot of pre-snap shifting on offense, often played one of their defensive tackles over the nose of the center (to the detriment of the Vikings’ undersized Mick Tinglehoff), had a lethal soccer-style kicker in Hall of Famer Jan Stenerud (when soccer-stylers were still in the minority) and even formed their offensive huddle unconventionally (with two lines facing quarterback Len Dawson: larger creatures in back, smaller creatures up front).
Here’s Culp blowing by Tinglehoff (who’ll be enshrined in Canton in August) to stuff a running play:
Watching Kansas City play in those days was like visiting Tomorrowland. The Chiefs were nothing like the ultra-basic Packers clubs coached by Vince Lombardi earlier in the ’60s (who served as a model for the ’69 Vikings). For instance, the Chiefs might not have reached the Super Bowl if they hadn’t sprung star receiver Otis Taylor for big gains against the Jets and Raiders by using a funky formation — with Taylor in the slot between the guard and tackle. And they tricked the Vikes three times by running end-arounds with their other wideout, Frank Pitts (who they positioned, in each instance, as a tight end on the left side). The first went for 19 yards and set up a field goal:
Minnesota, on the other hand, just lined up and came at you. Unfortunately, it was hard to do that against a defense like Kansas City’s. Buchanan, Culp, Brown and Mays repeatedly collapsed the pocket, and it seemed like Kapp spent the entire afternoon throwing off his back foot.
● In the brief intro before kickoff, CBS analyst Pat Summerall said Vikings coach Bud Grant had told him during the week “that Kansas City is the type of team — a physical team, a hitting team — that Minnesota has had trouble with throughout the entire year.” The Chiefs’ aggressiveness was certainly evident in the Super Bowl. On consecutive plays in the Vikings’ second series, they absolutely crunched running backs Bill Brown and Dave Osborn when they swung out of the backfield to catch passes, holding them to a pair of 1-yard gains. How often do you see consecutive 1-yard completions in the middle of the field?
At the outset of the second quarter, Marsalis put the wood to receiver John Henderson, causing a fumble that Robinson recovered. K.C. kept right on knocking Minnesota’s socks off.
● It no doubt helped the Chiefs that they had Been There Before, even if their previous Super Bowl experience had been a humbling 35-10 loss to Green Bay. Sixteen Kansas City starters, including punter Jerrel Wilson, had played in SB I. For the Vikings, it was their first time on the Super Bowl stage. And frankly, it showed. From the very first snap, K.C. looked like the looser club.
Don’t forget, too, that while the NFL had been around far longer than the AFL, the Chiefs (born: 1960) were actually older than the Vikes (a 1961 expansion franchise). So this Super Bowl had a much different dynamic than its predecessors.
● Stenerud was a huge factor, booting three field goals — the first a 48-yarder, a Super Bowl record at the time — to stake Kansas City to a 9-0 lead. Fred Cox, Minnesota’s traditional kicker (read: he kicked with the front of his foot, the toes, rather than the instep), had only one attempt in the game, from 56 yards with the wind at his back, and came up eight yards short:
Little wonder that by the end of the ’70s, the vast majority of NFL teams had soccer-stylers.
● Another comment Summerall made: “Kansas City is basically a man-to-man defense in the secondary. Minnesota is primarily a zone defensive team.” This goes back to the Chiefs’ aggressiveness. Their ‘D’ attacked you at every level. Thanks to Thomas’ close coverage, Gene Washington, the Vikings’ Pro Bowl receiver, had only one catch for nine yards — and it didn’t come until the last eight minutes, by which time K.C. was ahead 23-7.
● People always joked about Kapp’s not-so-tight spirals. Indeed, Summerall mentioned that Joe “does throw a ball that wobbles quite a bit.” But the Vikes’ QB really aired it out on a couple of occasions. On an incompletion to Washington late in the first half, the pass traveled 65 yards in the air. It might be the longest throw in Super Bowl history:
● Just before that bomb, Dawson drew Minnesota offside by shifting into the shotgun, which wasn’t seen much back then. He took the snap nine yards behind the line. Play-by-play man Jack Buck (correctly) said it “used to be called the Short Punt [formation].” Yet another example of the Chiefs’ against-the-grain mentality (not to mention a sound strategy against the Vikings’ fierce pass rush):
● Penalties could be so much more punitive in the ’60s. At the start of the second half, Kansas City had moved to its 41 when tackle Dave Hill was caught grabbing Carl Eller, Minnesota’s Pro Bowl defensive end, on a third-and-seven play. In those days, though, the walk-off for holding wasn’t 10 yards, it was 15 — from the spot of the foul, which in this case was seven yards deep in the backfield. So it ended up costing the Chiefs 22 yards and left them with a third-and-29. Ouch.
(Referee John McDonough didn’t announce who the penalty was on, however, because refs weren’t equipped with microphones yet. It was left to Summerall to divine who the guilty party was. Sometimes, Pat just had to make an educated guess. After the Vikings were flagged for a personal foul in the third quarter, he said it “might” have been on linebacker Wally Hilgenberg for giving Kansas City back Mike Garrett “a little shot as he tried to get by him” on a pass route.)
● It was a better balanced game in 1969 — better balanced between the run and the pass, better balanced between the offense and the defense. The run/pass split that season was fairly even — 51.6 percent rushing plays (for the two leagues combined), 48.4 percent passing plays. Last year, with Drew Brees and friends firing the ball all over the lot, it was 43.4/56.6. Maybe you’re OK with that. To me, it’s out of whack (not that we’ll ever go back in the other direction).
The rule changes in 1978 that legalized the use of hands in pass blocking and eliminated bump-and-run coverage — along with other tinkering by the Competition Committee — have turned pro football, increasingly, into a throwing contest. Of course, almost from the outset, the NFL has tried to distinguish itself from college football by giving the offense “a slight edge,” as longtime league president Joe Carr put it. “We are primarily interested in developing a spectacular scoring game,” he said in the ’30s. “We haven’t the pageantry that goes with the college games, hence as a substitute we must offer wide-open play, with frequent scoring.
Over the years, though, that “slight edge” has widened. And when you watch a game like Super Bowl IV, you’re reminded how much. There was simply more uncertainty when Dawson and Kapp went to the air, a larger margin of error. Sure, the defenses had something to do with that — both were terrific — but the rules were also fairer. It was nice, for a few hours, to see the game regain its equilibrium. As much fun as passing is, running the ball is elemental (and, I might add, keeps pro football in touch with its roots).
● On second and 18 from the Minnesota 27 near the end of the first half, the Chiefs ran a draw to Wendell Hayes, who picked up 13 yards. Summerall’s remark: “Excellent call by Dawson.” Oh, right. Quarterbacks were still calling their own plays. How quaint.
It was just another way the game was more balanced: Things weren’t totally dominated, as they are today, by micromanaging coaches. That’s why the TV cameras weren’t constantly focused on Stram and Grant — neither of whom, by the way, wore a headset (a fashion accessory that wasn’t yet in vogue). To a large extent, the players ran the show.
● But not always. The famed 65 Toss Power Trap, which Garrett scored on from the 5-yard line to make it 16-0, was sent in by Stram (via receiver Gloster Richardson). It was a gutsy call, inasmuch as it was third and goal, and was perfectly executed. Guard Mo Moorman came over from the right side to trap Alan Page, the Vikings’ Hall of Fame defensive tackle, and Garrett had a huge hole to run through:
What’s just as notable about the play, though, is that Garrett leaped into Taylor’s arms afterward. Self-celebration wasn’t that common in the ’60s, but you could tell from Garrett’s reaction that that touchdown was, to him, the clincher. Given the way the Kansas City ‘D’ was playing, the Vikings weren’t going to rally from 16 points down:
Needless to say, the Chiefs cheerleaders were excited:
● Every now and then, Page would flash, just to remind everybody he was the baddest defensive player on the planet. Once, Dawson had barely completed a handoff to Hayes before Page broke through and drilled him. The guy had linebacker-type quickness (which figures, I guess, since he was 6-4, 245 pounds):
Earlier, Page had dropped Robert Holmes for a 5-yard loss on a draw and, a short time later, tackled Garrett a yard behind the line. That said, Kansas City guard Ed Budde — with help from his linemates — kept Alan from going totally bonkers, and the Chiefs did everything they could to use his quickness against him by running a bunch of traps, draws and screens.
Page now sits on the Minnesota Supreme Court, so it was amusing to see him lose his temper — not once, but twice. The first time, after drawing an offside penalty, he began jawing at the officials. The aforementioned hit on Dawson soon followed. (Moral: Don’t get Alan mad.)
In the closing minutes, Page got riled again. You couldn’t blame him. The Vikings, 13-point favorites, were going down in flames, and Grant — this shocked me — wasn’t using any of his timeouts to stop the clock. The Chiefs weren’t inclined to Just Get It Over With, though, and, on the first play after the two-minute warning, a third-and-11, Dawson rolled right to pass.
Eller sacked him for a four-yard loss, but Page wasn’t satisfied with that. He dove into Lenny, well after the whistle, as the quarterback lay on the ground, resulting in a personal-foul penalty that enabled K.C. to keep possession:
It was fitting end to the last Us vs. Them Super Bowl, one final bit of animosity before the two leagues clasped hands. Both benches emptied, but not much happened aside from some generic jostling. Then the game resumed, the Chiefs killed the remaining time, Stram was hoisted on his players’ shoulders . . . and pro football was never the same.
● Postscript: Did you notice, near the end, Buck’s plug for The Ed Sullivan Show (which aired that night on CBS)? Among the guests, he said, were Tiny Tim and his new bride, Miss Vicky. (If the names aren’t familiar, Google them. It’ll give you a better feel for where we were as a country when the curtain came down on the AFL.)
In fact, why don’t we have Tim sing us off?
I have just one more thing to add: The Kansas City defense was no “tiptoe through the tulips.”
(And yes, that’s Goldie Hawn who hands him a bouquet of flowers before escorting him offstage.)
While we’re sitting around playing solitaire, waiting for the NFL’s annual Free Agent Madness to begin, I thought I’d post something for your amusement.
In the first half of their existence (1921-70), before they moved to their current stadium/spaceship, the Bears played their home games at Wrigley Field. The place was built for the baseball, though, which made a football field a tight fit.
Close behind one end zone was the brick outfield wall. Close behind the other was the visitors’ dugout. Actually, the dugout was more than close behind; it intruded on the left corner of the end zone and made it shallower than the standard 10 yards.
In 1938 Dick Plasman, the last man to go without a helmet in the NFL, ran into the wall trying to catch a pass. He suffered a broken wrist, a cut-and-bruised head and who knows what else. (He also met his future wife — one of his nurses — in the hospital, so it wasn’t a total loss for him.) Here’s an AP photo of him being carried off:
The dugout could be dangerous, too. A few years ago, Harlon Hill, a star wideout for the Bears in the ’50s, told the Chicago Tribune he once “hit a part of it” while scoring a touchdown. “It really hurt,” he said. “I tried to stop and I went half way over into the [box] seats.”
If you’re wondering what the end zone looked like with a dugout jutting into it, this screen shot from a 1944 Bears-Cleveland Rams game gives you a rough idea:
Finally, here’s the video of the play leading up to the screen shot. The target is the Rams’ Jim Benton, one of the top receivers in those years — and a guy you could make a decent Hall of Fame case for. Unlike Hill, his momentum didn’t carry him into the dugout (which looks like it was covered with either canvas or thick plastic). But as you can see, he had to slam on the brakes to keep from falling into the stands.
Sorry to be bringing this to your attention so late. Things get a little backed up sometimes at Pro Football Daly. Still, I hope you’ll be amused.
In the NFC title game, you may recall, Seahawks punter Jon Ryan threw a 19-yard touchdown pass to tackle-eligible Garry Gilliam — on a fake-field-goal play, no less — to kick-start Seattle’s comeback from a 16-0 deficit. Many news outlets reported, as ESPN.com did, that the TD toss “was the first by a punter in NFL postseason history.”
Oh, please. In all of NFL postseason history? All 83 years of it? You might want to do a little more research on that.
Here’s a punter throwing for the game-winning score in the 1937 title game, won by the Redskins over the Bears, 28-21. It’s Sammy Baugh, who doubled as a punter-quarterback in those multitasking days (as did many others). Baugh booted five of Washington’s seven punts that afternoon — with limited substitution, it was often a shared responsibility — and also had three touchdown passes (measuring 55, 78 and 35 yards).
And here’s another punter throwing the last of his five TD passes — then a postseason record — in the Bears’ 41-21 mauling of the Redskins in the ’43 championship game. I’m talking about Sid Luckman, who also punted three times that day.
And here’s another punter throwing a touchdown pass in the 1960 title game. That would be the Eagles’ Norm Van Brocklin, a Hall of Famer like Baugh and Luckman (and the league’s MVP that season). Van Brocklin was second in passer rating (86.5) and fifth in punting average (43.1) in ’60 to lead Philadelphia to its last NFL championship.
I could go on — YouTube has some great footage of the Packers’ Arnie Herber and the Rams’ Bob Waterfield doing the same thing — but I just wanted to make a point. Yes, Ryan might be the first punting specialist to toss a TD pass in the postseason, but he’s far from the first punter.
Danny White, for goodness sakes, did it in eight different games for the Cowboys in the ’70s and ’80s. In the 1980 playoffs against the Rams, he threw for three scores and averaged 44.5 yards a punt. That’s better than Ryan’s 42.4-yard average. In the ’42 title game, Baugh had a touchdown pass and averaged 52.5 yards a punt, including a 61-yarder on a quick kick. In the ’50 championship game, Waterfield had a TD pass and averaged 50.8 yards a punt. These guys weren’t punters by default or something. They could really boot the ball.
By my count, eight NFL players threw a touchdown pass in a postseason game — and also punted — before Ryan became the “first” to do it. Moreover, these eight accomplished the feat a total of 27 times. (I’m excluding John Elway, Ben Roethlisberger and Tom Brady, who also pulled it off — in Elway’s case, on four occasions — but can’t be considered punters. Brady, by the way, did it on a night he fired six TD passes.)
Anyway, just wanted to clarify that. Congratulations, Jon Ryan. You made a nice throw, one that helped put your club in the Super Bowl. But don’t let anybody tell you an NFL punter had never done that before. Once upon a time, punters could walk and chew gum.
Source: pro-football-reference.com
Seahawks punter Jon Ryan lobs a TD pass in the NFC title game vs. the Packers.
There were 66 1-yard touchdown passes in the NFL this season. I know this because I just researched it at pro-football-reference.com. Sixty-six 1-yard TD passes is enough of an abomination in this he-man sport, but this next statistic is even worse: Until Malcolm Butler saved the Super Bowl for the Patriots by picking off Russell Wilson’s throw in the final minute, the defense hadn’t intercepted a single pass in that situation.
As we all know, pro football is out of whack. The offense-defense balance has been lost, probably forever, thanks to a succession of quarterback-friendly rule changes. And few things represent this out-of-whackness better than the 66 1-yard touchdown passes QBs tossed this season. Heck, it’s practically taunting when a team dials up a 1-yard TD pass, especially when the receiver is somebody like J.J. Watt (two caught two of them this year).
Think about it: Against a spread offense, with pick plays and push-offs virtually legal now, how exactly are you supposed to defend a pass from the 1-yard line? Somehow, though, Butler did. If that isn’t reason to celebrate — the defense won for a change! — I don’t know what is.
Once upon a time, the NFL scoffed at throwing such an itty-bitty pass. In 1942, when the Packers’ Cecil Isbell lobbed a 4-incher to Hall of Famer Don Hutson for a touchdown, the league thought it was so hilarious that it added it to the record book. Now, keep in mind: Nowhere in the book could you find the shortest TD run or shortest field goal or shortest anything else. But the shortest TD pass — I’m surprised it wasn’t labeled Biggest Wimpout — was right there on Page 21:
Here’s how Stoney McGlynn of the Milwaukee Sentinel described this not-so-great moment in NFL history:
Even better, the Milwaukee Journalran a photo of the play — a terrific one. What are the odds of that? Check it out:
As you can see, Isbell, after taking the shotgun snap in the Packers’ single wing, released the ball from the Cleveland 9. (I’m guessing he faked a handoff before throwing.) I particularly like the X-marks-the-spot in the left corner of the end zone, which is where Hutson made the grab.
{Miscellaneous note: Dante Magnani, the Rams defensive back who “let Hutson get a step behind him,” had had a whale of a game, scoring on a 52-yard run and a 67-yard reception. But in those days, of course, you had to play defense, too.)
Anyway, Hutson’s “mark” stood for 18 years. Then Cowboys tight end Dick Bielski broke it by hauling in a 2-inch touchdown heave from Eddie LeBaron in a 1960 game against the Redskins.
The Associated Press’ account read thusly:
(Miscellaneous note No. 2: This happened in the third game in Cowboys history. They went 0-11-1 that first season, so Bielski’s TD must have been one of the high points of the year.)
Naturally, Dick’s feat was included in the record book, too, and the revised entry looked like this:
It wasn’t until 1971 that the NFL stopped listing the “Shortest Pass Reception for Touchdown” among its records. (Bielski and Hutson were still 1-2.) Maybe the league was just starting to lose its sense of humor. Then, too, by the early ’70s the short TD pass was no longer such a novelty. You have to remember: Until the ’30s, an incompletion in the end zone was ruled a touchback. The offense actually lost possession of the ball. That, as much as raging testosterone, is why teams didn’t throw much when they were close to the goal line. They didn’t want to risk a turnover. As it became more of a passing game, though, and as the rules loosened up, most of the risk went out of such a play.
But in Super Bowl 49, glorious Super Bowl 49, we had the proverbial Once in a Blue Moon. On second and goal from the New England 1, Wilson fired to Ricardo Lockette on a quick slant and, lo and behold, Butler broke for the ball and all but plucked it out of Lockette’s hands. Game over (except for some pushing, shoving and punching). Patriots 28, Seahawks 24.
Come to think of it, that would make a great title for the Super Bowl highlight film: Blue Moon Over Arizona.
I’ll close with this from the Aug. 13, 1962, Milwaukee Journal:
The Packers host the Lions today with the division title — and possibly more — at stake. To kill time until the kickoff, why don’t we talk about something else that happened at Lambeau Field on this date . . . in 1961. With the wind chill a shivering 6 degrees, Green Bay won the first of its five NFL titles under Vince Lombardi, swallowing up the Giants, 37-0.
What’s totally forgotten about this game is that, thanks to a gaffe by the officiating crew in the third quarter, the Packers offense was given a fifth down. It didn’t have any effect on the outcome, thank goodness, but it’s still fun to revisit.
In fact, here’s the video of the game, courtesy of YouTube. If you jump ahead to the 1:10:08 mark (and let it run to 1:16:48), you can watch the whole nightmare unfold.
It happened right after the second-half kickoff. On first down from his 36, the Packers’ Paul Hornung gained a yard up the middle . . . and then the zebras collectively lost their minds. (That’s Lindsey Nelson, by the way, doing the play-by-play for NBC.)
As you saw, on second and 9 Packers quarterback Bart Starr scrambled 21 yards to the New York 42, where he fumbled and Giants safety Jimmy Patton recovered. At this point, referee George Rennix started doing some very strange things.
First he signaled that an illegal procedure penalty against the Packers had been declined (which presumably meant the play stood).
Then he picked up the ball and stepped off a five-yard penalty against Green Bay, moving the line of scrimmage to the 47.
Then he decided to confer with the other officials.
And then he concluded that the procedure penalty, which came before the snap, had wiped out the play and thus, the Packers retained possession.
But Rennix wasn’t through. In the confusion, the chains had been moved, and nobody remembered where the original line of scrimmage was. So when he marked off the five-yard penalty against Green Bay, he began from the 40, not the 37 — which made it just a two-yard penalty.
Worse, the chain gang, thinking the ball had changed hands, had flipped the down marker from 2 to 1 — and none of the officials caught it. Check out this screen shot of Rennix talking to head linesman John Highberger (48) — and notice the 1 on the marker to Highberger’s right.
Anyway, it was pretty embarrassing. And it would have been a lot more than that, of course, had the the Packers gone down the field and scored again. But they wound up punting, so no major damage was done. To recap, the five downs went like this:
1. First and 10 from the Green Bay 36 — Hornung, 1-yard run to the 37.
2. First and 15 from the Green Bay 35 (after Rennix’s Follies) — Hornung, 10-yard run to the 45.
3. Second and 5 from the Green Bay 45 — Jim Taylor, 1-yard run to the 46.
4. Third and 4 from the Green Bay 46 — Starr, incomplete pass to Bowd Dowler.
5. Fourth and 4 from the Green Bay 46 – Dowler punts.
“Not until after the game could the officials be reached for an explanation that answered only a part of the question,” The New York Times reported. “The officials said that a Green Bay lineman had been in motion illegally before the Packers had started their play. That voided everything that happened thereafter.
“Furthermore, they said that Starr already had hit the ground and the ball had been whistled dead when he fumbled, so in any case possession would not have been awarded to the Giants. [Note: This is totally at odds with the actions of Rennix, who signaled it was New York’s ball.]
“They never did say . . . why the down marker was reset at 1 instead of remaining at 2.”
Which left the NFL with this wonderful Times headline when it was all over:
Before 16-game seasons and 12-team playoff fields, the NFL played its championship game in the second or third week of December. Not much survives from those battles in the ’30s and ’40s, but there are a few clips available on YouTube. Here’s what I’ve found — from 1934, ’36, ’39 and ’41.
DEC. 9, 1934: GIANTS 30, BEARS 13
This was the celebrated Sneakers Game, so named because the Giants switched to “basketball shoes” (as they were called) in the second half to get better traction on an icy field. They then exploded for 27 points in the fourth quarter to ruin the Bears’ perfect season and keep them from winning a record-tying third straight title.
(It’s still the most points ever scored by a team in the fourth quarter of a playoff game. The ’92 Eagles are next with 26 vs. the Saints in this 36-20 win.)
We begin our film festival with back-to-back runs by the great Bronko Nagurski. Note the Bears are lined up in the T formation, with the quarterback taking the snap directly from center. They were only NFL club using the T in 1934. Everybody else opted for some variation of the single wing. Note also, on the first play, the man-in-motion flashing across the screen. That had been incorporated into the offense, too.
One more tackle-busting Nagurski run. What’s interesting about this play is that the Bears are in the single wing. They mixed it up, in other words — which must have been a nightmare for opposing defenses. Watch for the official slipping and falling at the end of the clip. The field was treacherous in spots.
Here’s a photo of Giants quarterback Ed Danowski (22) getting ready to crack the line. As you can see, he and his blockers are wearing sneakers, which were borrowed from nearby Manhattan College and rushed to the Polo Grounds by locker-room attendant Abe Cohen:
After the footwear change, it was all over for Chicago. The sneaks didn’t just give the Giants better footing, they enabled them to cut more sharply than the Bears could. Hall of Fame fullback Ken Strong scored the final two New York touchdowns — the first over the right side, the second up the middle. In the last part of the clip, he touches the ball down in the end zone, just like in the old days. (Thus the term “touchdown.”)
“Strong had been removed from the game in the first half with his left leg twisted,” Arthur Daley of The New York Times wrote. “He appeared out of it. But he came back in the second, apparently none the worse for wear.”
DEC. 13, 1936: PACKERS 21, REDSKINS 6
The ’36 title game should have been played in Boston, home of the Eastern champion Redskins. But the team didn’t draw well, so owner George Preston Marshall moved the game to New York’s Polo Grounds. (The next season, the franchise was in Washington.)
You’ll love the opening kickoff. According to the Milwaukee Sentinel, the Green Bay returner being picked up, carried back and slammed down is George Sauer (whose son, George Jr., starred for the Jets in Super Bowl III with eight catches for 133 yards, both game highs). Today, no doubt, Boston would have been hit with a personal-foul penalty.
The Packers led 7-6 at halftime thanks to this Hall of Famer-to-Hall of Famer heave from Arnie Herber to Don Hutson, good for a 48-yard touchdown:
Early in the second half Green Bay began to break it open. From the Sentinel: “Herber sent a long aerial down the field which Johnny Blood [another Hall of Famer] caught for a 51-yard gain, Don Irwin nailing him on the 9-yard line. After being halted three straight times on running plays, Herber found [end Milt] Gantenbein alone over the goal line and pegged one right in his arms for a touchdown.”
As the clip shows, Herber dropped back quite a ways before throwing the ball to Blood — 10 or 11 yards by my count. This was to give Johnny time to get downfield, but it’s also an indication of how unreliable pass protection was in that era. Linemen couldn’t use their hands yet, remember, and the concept of the pocket was still years off. (Plus, it was two years before there was a penalty for roughing the passer. Once the ball was released, the defense could pretty much whatever it wanted to the quarterback until the play was whistled dead.)
I’d be remiss if I didn’t insert this last screen shot. It’s of the Packers’ Lou Gordon — No. 53 — running around without a helmet. In 1936 headgear was still optional.
I’d also be shirking my responsibility if I didn’t include the lead paragraph of the game story that ran in the Boston Globe. It was written by John Lardner — Ring’s son — then 24 and working for the New York Herald Tribune. Can you believe it? The Globe didn’t even staff the game (probably because Redskins were abandoning the city). Imagine the Los Angeles Times not covering Super Bowls XXXIV and XXXVI because the Rams had forsaken L.A.
“. . . championship of the universe, and points south.” Classic.
DEC. 10, 1939: PACKERS 27, GIANTS 0
Steve Owen, the Giants’ Hall of Fame coach, missed the game because of his mother’s death. That left the team in the hands of assistant Bo Molenda, a former Packer. The site was switched from Green Bay’s City Stadium to Milwaukee’s larger State Fair Park because this was, after all, the Depression. If a few more tickets could be sold . . . . And indeed, the crowd of 32,279 produced a gate of over $80,000, a record for an NFL title game. The winning Packers reportedly earned $703.97 each, the losing Giants $455.57.
Green Bay turned it into a rout in the third quarter after Gantenbein (yes, him again) picked off a pass and ran it back to the New York 33. A touchdown — one that made it 17-0 — soon followed. The Sentinel again: “[Quarterback Cecil] Isbell, faking and veering the ball nicely, slipped back, wheeled and passed downfield to [back] Joe Laws, who was all alone to take the ball on the 6 and romp over without a man getting within yards of him.”
Aren’t those goalposts the greatest? They were the new, improved version that moved the posts off the goal line, where they could be an obstruction on running plays. (The goal posts weren’t moved to the back of the end zone until 1974.) The post-TD “celebration,” by the way, is just beautiful. A teammate comes up and . . . shakes Law’s hand.
In the fourth quarter, Packers linebacker Bud Svendsen intercepted another Giants pass and returned it to the New York 15. This time Green Bay turned to trickery. “A double reverse, with [Harry] Jacunski carrying on an end-around, brought the ball to the 1 yards,” the Sentinel reported, “and [fullback Ed] Jankowski pounded over the New York right guard for the score.”
Here’s that sequence – interception/double reverse/short touchdown plunge — that gave the Packers their final points:
DEC. 21, 1941: BEARS 37, GIANTS 9
Once again, the Giants took a licking. Of course, this Bears club — just a year removed from the 73-0 evisceration of the Redskins in the title game — was nigh unbeatable. The game was played two weeks after the attack on Pearl Harbor, which might have had something to do with the disappointing attendance: 13,341.
Behind by four touchdowns in the final quarter, New York ran a gadget play in hopes of getting in a parting shot, but the Bears blew it up. The New York Times’ account:
Just before the end, 9 seconds away, [Steve] Owen inserted Andy Marefos into his lineup. The next play was the one that had worked against the Redskins in their first game with the Giants. Hank Soar rifled a lateral [pass] to Marefos, who was supposed to heave a long one down the field.
Before he could get rid of the ball, the entire Bear team hit him at once. The pigskin popped out of his hand and [end] Ken Kavanaugh picked it up and trotted 42 yards to the end zone.
And then America — and many of these players — went off to war.
For whatever reason(s), there’s a Bermuda Triangle aspect to certain NFL records. They’re just hard to break — harder than you’d think they’d be. Norm Van Brocklin’s record of 554 passing yards in a game, for instance, still stands 63 years later, even though the deck is increasingly stacked in favor of quarterbacks. And Johnny Unitas’ record of throwing a touchdown pass in 47 consecutive games wasn’t seriously threatened for more than half a century.
The latter record, now in the possession of the Saints’ Drew Brees (54), continues to prove elusive. The Patriots’ Tom Brady made it to 52 last season, only to be stopped by the Bengals on a rainy day in Cincinnati. And Sunday, the Broncos’ Peyton Manning had a 51-game run end against the Bills on a perfectly lovely day in Denver.
Also, lest we forget, the Cowboys’ Tony Romo had a 38-gamer halted by the Eagles two weeks ago. Anyway, those streaks — Brady’s, Manning’s and Romo’s — are three of the five longest in the league’s 95 years. And they all came up short.
Back in September, I wrote about the history of the record (which was once owned by Cecil Isbell, the long-ago Packer) and even dug up some vintage video. If you want to look the original post again — or even for the first time — I’ll make it easy for you. Here’s the link.
The Packers’ Cecil Isbell throws a touchdown pass in the 1939 title game vs. the Giants.
In case you missed last week’s annotated play-by-play of the 1940 NFL title game — Bears 73, Redskins nil — here’s another shot at it. Since the game was played Dec. 8, I thought I’d zero in on another aspect of it today: a block thrown by Chicago’s George Wilson on the second play from scrimmage.
But what Wilson should be remembered for, above all, is the aforementioned block. It came on a 68-yard touchdown run by fullback Bill Osmanski that got the Bears off to a quick 7-0 lead (and foreshadowed the avalanche of points to come). Osmanski did a nice job of bouncing outside and into the clear, but it was Wilson’s downfield boom-lowering that turned it into walk-in (had his teammate so chosen). George wiped out the last two Redskins pursuers — Ed Justice (13) and Jimmy Johnston (31) — with one well-placed shoulder:
Here’s just the clip of The Block, so it’s easier to watch it over . . . and over . . . and over. No wonder Halas called it the greatest he’d ever seen. And let’s not forget: Without it, Osmanski might not have scored — and the Bears might have won only 66-0.
Finally, this is as close as I can come to a freeze frame:
On Dec. 8, 1940, the Chicago Bears barreled into Washington’s Griffith Stadium and beat the Redskins 73-0 in the NFL championship game — the biggest smackdown in league history. What follows is an attempt to recreate that game, with the help of newspaper accounts, play by plays, video highlights and my own interviews with some of the players. The figures might be a yard off here and there, but they’re mostly accurate. (You’d be amazed at how inexact record keeping was in the prewar years.)
I’ve inserted comments and notes throughout to (hopefully) add to your reading pleasure. Enjoy.
Bears end Ken Kavanaugh: “I bought 26 tickets for friends of mine from Arkansas, Louisiana and around Chicago, and I think three of ’em were picked up. So when we get to Washington, I’ve got 23 tickets at $4 a head in my pocket. Our bus arrives at the stadium, and I go out in front and start selling the tickets. It takes me about a half-hour or so, but I finally get rid of them.
“Later I’m in the locker room getting dressed, and [coach George] Halas says, ‘Where the hell have you been, eating another sandwich?’ He used to get on me because I’d eat a sandwich before games. We didn’t have any pregame meal or anything, you see. We just went out and played. Anyway, I said, ‘George, I had 23 tickets to sell at $4 apiece, and I don’t know if we’re going to make that much playing this game, so I was out front selling ’em. Are we ready to go out [for warmups]?’ And he says, ‘In about 10 minutes.’ And I said, ‘Well, that’s all I need.'”
Note: Kavanaugh needn’t have worried. The winning Bears each received $873.99, which would have more than covered the cost of the 23 tickets he got stuck with.
Weather: Sunny, 40 degrees.
Attendance: 36,034.
FIRST QUARTER
Bears win toss, elect to receive.
Note: Among the officials were referee Red Friesell (he of the famous Fifth Down in the Cornell-Dartmouth game earlier that year) and linesman Irv Kupcinet (the Chicago Times sportswriter and erstwhile Philadelphia Eagle).
(Sound of whistle blowing.)
Redskins kick 55 yards from WAS 40 to CHI 5. Ray Nolting to CHI 25 for 20 yards.
1-10-C25
George McAfee up the middle to CHI 32 for 7 yards.
2-3-C32
Bill Osmanski left end for 68 yards, TOUCHDOWN.
Jack Manders extra point is GOOD.
CHICAGO 7, WASHINGTON 0, 2 plays, 68 yards.
Note: Osmanski’s way was paved by one of the greatest blocks of all time. Bears end George Wilson wiped out not one but two Redskins along the sideline.
Bears kick 56 yards from CHI 40 to WAS 4. Max Krause to CHI 40 for 56 yards.
1-10-C40
Jimmy Johnston right tackle to CHI 34 for 6 yards.
2-4-C34
Johnston right tackle to CHI 28 for 6 yards.
1-10-C28
Ed Justice left tackle to CHI 26 for 2 yards.
2-8-C26
Johnston right end to CHI 26 for no gain.
3-8-C26
Sammy Baugh pass to Charlie Malone dropped at CHI 5.
4-8-C26
Bob Masterson 32 yard field goal is NO GOOD.
Comment: Dropping a Baugh pass took some doing. Sammy laid it out there on a pillow. Malone somehow managed, though.
1-10-C20
McAfee left end to CHI 24 for 4 yards.
2-6-C24
Nolting right tackle to CHI 27 for 3 yards.
3-3-C27
Osmanski right tackle to CHI 49 for 22 yards.
1-10-C49
Nolting up the middle to WAS 48 for 3 yards.
2-7-W48
Nolting up the middle to WAS 45 for 3 yards.
3-4-W45
McAfee left end to WAS 39 for 6 yards.
1-10-W39
Nolting right tackle to WAS 37 for 2 yards.
2-8-W37
McAfee left tackle to WAS 31 for 6 yards.
3-2-W31
McAfee left guard to WAS 28 for 3 yards.
Timeout #1 by CHI
1-10-W28
Nolting right tackle to WAS 27 for 1 yard.
2-9-W27
Osmanski right tackle to WAS 21 for 6 yards.
3-3-W21
McAfee to WAS 19 for 2 yards.
4-1-W19
Nolting through tackle to WAS 14 for 5 yards.
1-10-W14
Sid Luckman flat pass to Nolting to WAS 2 for 12 yards.
1-2-W2
Osmanski right tackle to WAS 2 for no gain.
2-2-W2
Osmanski right tackle to WAS 2 for no gain. FUMBLES (Erny Pinckert hit), RECOVERED by CHI-Joe Stydahar at W3. Stydahar to W1 for 2 yards.
3-1-W1
Luckman up the middle for 1 yard, TOUCHDOWN.
Bob Snyder extra point is GOOD.
CHICAGO 14, WASHINGTON 0, 17 plays, 80 yards.
Comment: A 17-play drive. Ouch. The Redskins went with a five-man line on defense pretty much the whole way. That’s what had worked for them earlier in the season, when they shut down the Bears’ revolutionary T formation in a 7-3 victory. As teams would soon learn, though, the T — in the early stages, at least — was most vulnerable to a seven-man front, which made it easier to pressure the passer and turn sweeps inside.
Bears kick 60 yards from CHI 40 to end zone, Touchback.
1-10-W20
Baugh flat pass to Johnston to W14 for -6 yards.
2-16-W14
Baugh pass incomplete over middle. (Bulldog Turner nearly intercepts.)
3-16-W14
Baugh pass through hands of Bob McChesney at W42.
4-16-W14
Baugh punts 28 yards to W42 (partially blocked).
Comment: Are you getting the impression this isn’t the Redskins’ day? They’ve already had two drops, a missed field goal, a near INT and a deflected punt. And it’s still the first quarter.
1-10-W42
Joe Maniaci left end for 42 yards, TOUCHDOWN.
Phil Martinovich extra point is GOOD.
CHICAGO 21, WASHINGTON 0, 1 play, 42 yards.
Note: This was essentially the same play Osmanski scored on. Again, a five-man line wasn’t as effective against the wide stuff the T threw at you (thanks, among other things, to the quick-strike capability of the man-in-motion).
Bears kick out of bounds. Redskins ball at WAS 45.
1-10-W45
Frank Filchock flat pass to McChesney. FUMBLES, RECOVERED by WAS-Bo Russell at WAS 39 for -6 yards.
2-16-W39
Filchock pass incomplete to Bob Hoffman.
3-16-W39
Filchock long pass incomplete to Wilbur Moore.
4-16-W39
Filchock punts 36 yards to CHI 25, McAfee to CHI 42 for 17 yards.
Comment: Baugh shared the quarterback duties with Filchock, so it was never unusual to see Frankie come into the game. Despite the change, though, the Redskins continued to kill themselves on first down. They’d begun two straight series with a 6-yard loss — and would begin their next with an interception.
1-10-C42
Luckman overthrows lateral pass to Nolting, ball goes out of bounds at CHI 28 for -14 yards.
2-24-C28
Luckman quick-kicks 58 yards to WAS 14. Moore to WAS 20 for 6 yards. Quarter ends.
Comment: A rare goof by the Bears. So what did they do? They played it safe with a three-touchdown lead and punted on second down. Welcome to 1940s strategy.
SECOND QUARTER
1-10-W20
Filchock long pass for Moore INTERCEPTED by Scooter McLean at 50. No return.
Note: McLean dropkicked an extra point in the ’41 title game — the last successful dropkick in the NFL until Doug Flutie booted one for the Patriots in 2005.
1-10-50
Harry Clark right tackle to WAS 49 for 1 yard.
2-9-W49
Off fake reverse, Maniaci right tackle to WAS 43 for 6 yards.
3-3-W43
Maniaci right guard to WAS 39 for 4 yards.
1-10-W39
Luckman pass to Maniaci to WAS 11 for 28 yards.
1-10-W11
McLean FUMBLES handoff from Luckman, RECOVERED by WAS-McChesney at W19 for -8 yards.
Comment: Another reminder the Bears didn’t play a perfect game.
1-10-W19
Filchock up the middle to WAS 22 for 3 yards.
2-7-W22
Filchock pass incomplete down middle to Dick Todd.
3-7-W22
Filchock flat pass to Hoffman to WAS 29 for 7 yards.
1-10-W29
Filchock long pass to Wayne Millner to CHI 29 for 42 yards.
Note: McChesney reportedly played with his right hand in a splint. That might explain his problems on the second down play.
1-10-C18
Manders right end to CHI 18 for no gain.
2-10-C18
Luckman pass to Bobby Swisher to WAS 46 for 36 yards.
1-10-W46
McLean left end to WAS 26 for 20 yards.
1-10-W26
Osmanski runs to WAS 26 for no gain.
2-10-W26
McLean runs to WAS 24 for 2 yards.
3-8-W24
Luckman pass to Plasman at WAS 12 knocked down by Todd
4-8-W24
Martinovich 32-yard field goal is NO GOOD.
Note: Plasman, a 6-foot-3, 218-pound end, was the last NFLer to play without a helmet. He went bareheaded through the ’41 season. As he explained it, whenever he looked up for a pass, “the flap [of his headgear] always fell down over my eyes so that I couldn’t follow the flight of the ball. . . . One day, after a pass bounced off my chest, Halas said I wouldn’t have to wear a helmet anymore.”
1-10-W20
Filchock scrambles to WAS 37 for 17 yards.
1-10-W37
Filchock pass nearly intercepted by Plasman.
2-10-W37
Filchock long pass to Millner INTERCEPTED by Nolting at CHI 34. Nolting for 10 yards to CHI 44.
Note: The Redskins’ eight interceptions are still the all-time record for the postseason. But get this: In the previous year’s title game, the Packers threw six INTs and won, 28-0. It was, indeed, a different time. Offenses were much looser with the ball.
1-10-C44
Nolting right tackle to WAS 47 for 9 yards.
2-1-W47
Nolting up the middle to WAS 42 for 5 yards.
1-10-W42
Osmanski runs to WAS 42 for no gain.
2-10-W42
Luckman laterals to Osmanski, who runs to WAS 31 for 11 yards.
1-10-W31
Nolting right tackle to WAS 28 for 3 yards.
2-7-W27
Osmanski runs to WAS 29 for -2 yards.
3-9-W29
Luckman pass to Ken Kavanaugh in end zone for 29 yards, TOUCHDOWN.
Snyder extra point is GOOD.
CHICAGO 28, WASHINGTON 0, 7 plays, 56 yards.
Comment: Kavanaugh was surrounded by so many top players during his years with the Bears that he’s never been properly appreciated. Look at it this way: 52 of his 168 receptions in the NFL, regular season and postseason, went for touchdowns — 31 percent. You won’t find a higher TD rate in league history (among receivers with that many catches, anyway). Jerry Rice’s rate was less than half that.
Bears kick 60 yards to goal line. Filchock to WAS 25 for 25 yards.
1-10-W25
Filchock pass incomplete to Millner.
2-10-W25
Baugh pass complete over middle to Andy Farkas to WAS 44 for 19 yards.
1-10-W44
Baugh pass to Johnston to CHI 49 for 7 yards.
2-3-C49
Baugh pass to Hoffman to CHI 48 for 1 yard.
3-2-C48
Baugh long pass incomplete to Johnston.
4-2-C48
Baugh pass complete over middle to Johnston to CHI 41 for 7 yards.
1-10-C41
PENALTY on WAS, delay of game, 5 yards, enforced at CHI 41.
1-15-C46
Baugh long pass complete to Malone to CHI 5 for 41 yards.
1-5-C5
PENALTY on WAS, delay of game, 5 yards, enforced at CHI 5.
1-10-C10
Baugh pass to Farkas INTERCEPTED by Osmanski at CHI 6. Half ends.
Note: Judging from the newspaper stories, the Redskins were penalized for calling timeouts they didn’t have, not for taking too much time to get off plays. When you were out of timeouts in those days, you either faked an injury or took a five-yard penalty.
THIRD QUARTER
Bears kick 35 yards from CHI 40 to WAS 25. Malone to WAS 34 for 9 yards.
1-10-W34
Johnston right end to WAS 34 for no gain.~~PENALTY on WAS, holding, 15 yards, enforced at WAS 34.
1-25-W19
Baugh flat pass to Johnson INTERCEPTED by Hamp Pool at WAS 19.~~Pool for 19 yards, TOUCHDOWN.
Plasman extra point is GOOD.
CHIGAGO 35, WASHINGTON 0.
Note: No fewer than 11 players in the game — enough for a team — went on to be NFL or AFL head coaches. Pool (Rams) was one, along with teammates Scooter McLean (Packers), Bob Snyder (Rams), Joe Stydahar (Rams), Bulldog Turner (New York Titans), George Wilson (Lions, Dolphins) and, on the Redskins side, Sammy Baugh (New York Titans, Houston Oilers), Turk Edwards (Redskins), Frank Filchock (Broncos), Wayne Millner (Eagles) and Dick Todd (Redskins). Stydahar (1951 Rams) and Wilson (’57 Lions) even won championships.
Bears kick from CHI 40. PENALTY on CHI, offside, 5 yards, enforced at CHI 40. Bears kick from CHI 35 to end zone. Ed Justice FUMBLES and recovers, Touchback.
1-10-W20
Baugh pass to Malone to WAS 31 for 11 yards.
1-10-W31
Baugh flat pass to Masterson to WAS 38 for 7 yards.
2-3-W38
Baugh pass to Johnston incomplete. PENALTY on CHI, Pass Interference, Spot of Foul, enforced at WAS 43 — No Play.
1-10-W43
Johnston up the middle to WAS 46 for 3 yards.
2-7-W46
Baugh pass to Justice to 50 for 4 yards.
3-3-W50
Baugh FUMBLES snap. RECOVERED by WAS-Johnston for -16 yards.
4-19-W34
Baugh long pass to Malone incomplete.
Notes: Down 35-0, the Redskins went for it on fourth-and-forever in their own territory. This is how bad becomes worse. . . . Botched snaps by Washington in this quarter resulted in losses of 16 and 17 yards — and soon were followed by Bears touchdowns.,
1-10-W34
On reverse, Nolting right end to WAS 23 for 11 yards.
1-10-W23
Nolting up the middle for 23 yards, TOUCHDOWN. Plasman extra point is NO GOOD.
CHICAGO 41, WASHINGTON 0, 2 plays, 34 yards.
Comment: Two plays, 68 yards. One play, 42 yards. Two plays, 34 yards. (And later: one play, 2 yards.) The Redskins defense sure got the ball back quickly for the offense.
Bears kick 60 yards to end zone, Touchback.
1-10-W20
Seymour left tackle to WAS 20 for no gain.
2-10-W20
Roy Zimmerman pass INTERCEPTED by McAfee at WAS 34. McAfee for 34 yards, TOUCHDOWN.
Stydahar extra point is GOOD.
CHICAGO 48, WASHINGTON 0.
Redskins quarterback Roy Zimmerman: “A nightmare [day]. I had two interceptions run back for touchdowns. On that one [by McAfee], I broke [teammate] Charley Malone’s ribs trying to make the tackle. I was coming at [McAfee] from an angle, Charley was coming up from behind, and I hooked [McAfee] with my arm and got swung into Charley and broke his ribs.” (You can see the collision at the end of the clip.)
Comment: Had the game had been played in the 1920s, the officials probably would have shortened the last two periods from 15 minutes to 12 or 10. Back then, the attitude was: No sense belaboring the obvious.
Bears kick 60 yards to end zone. Zimmerman to WAS 33 for 33 yards.
1-10-W33
Bob Seymour left guard to WAS 34 for 1 yard.
2-9-W34
Zimmerman pass to Seymour incomplete.
3-9-W34
Zimmerman pass to Masterson to WAS 49 for 15 yards.
1-10-W49
Ray Hare left end to CHI 44 for 7 yards. PENALTY on CHI, offside, 5 yards, enforced at WAS 49 — No Play.
1-5-C46
Seymour right end to CHI 31 for 15 yards.
1-10-C31
Zimmerman sacked at CHI 43 for -12 yards. PENALTY on CHI, roughing the quarterback, 15 yards, enforced at CHI 43.
1-10-C28
Zimmerman pass to Hare in end zone incomplete.
2-10-C28
Zimmerman pass to Masterson to CHI 16 for 12 yards.
1-10-C16
Seymour runs to CHI 16 for no gain.
2-10-C16
Zimmerman back to pass, rushed, throws it away.
3-10-C16
Zimmerman pass to Masterson incomplete.
4-10-C16
Zimmerman overthrows Dick Farman in end zone on guard-eligible play
Comment: A guard-eligible play. Imagine that. (And naturally, Farman was wide open.) Such trickery was possible, though, in the Redskins’ single wing, where the unbalanced line looked like this:
E G C G T T E
To make the guard eligible for passes, all you had to do was have the weak side end (in this case, Bob Masterson) line up as the wingback — and move the right halfback to the line of scrimmage (to give you the required seven linemen). This turned the guard into, technically, the end. Observe:
G C G T T E RHB
E
The Redskins had beaten the Eagles two years before with a guard-eligible play to 6-1, 247-pound Bill Young. Farman was a little more ambulatory at 219.
1-10-C20
McAfee right tackle to CHI 24 for 4 yards.
2-6-C24
Osmanski right end to CHI 26 for 2 yards.
3-4-C26
McAfee halfback option pass to wide-open Plasman, who drops it.
4-4-C26
McAfee punts 38 yards out of bounds to WAS 36.
Comment: Things were starting to get chippy. In this series, Bears back Ray Nolting, who went 5-foot-11, 185 pounds, threw a punch at Redskins tackle Wee Willie Wilkin, a 6-4, 261-pound monster. Nolting was a tough nut. Bob Snyder once told me that in his first scrimmage with the Bears, he was lying on the ground after being tackled, thinking the play was over, only to have Nolting come along and unload on him. When Snyder complained about his new teammate’s lack of, uh, fraternity, Nolting was unmoved. “What did ya expect me to do,” he said, “kiss ya?”
1-10-W36
Zimmerman runs to WAS 38 for 2 yards.
2-8-W38
Bad center snap RECOVERED by WAS-Zimmerman at WAS 21 for -17 yards.
3-25-W21
Zimmerman pass over the middle to Seymour INTERCEPTED by Bulldog Turner at WAS 24. Turner for 24 yards, TOUCHDOWN.
Maniaci extra point is BLOCKED by Clyde Shugart.
CHICAGO 54, WASHINGTON 0.
Comment: The Bears were having their jollies at this point, letting everybody but the trainer try a PAT. It wasn’t unusual in the single-platoon era for a club to use multiple kickers in a game, but the Bears used seven.
Bears quarterback Sid Luckman: “When the score got to be 54-0, somebody in the huddle said, ‘Ah, let’s take it easy on ’em. That’s enough.’ And you know, 10 guys jumped down his throat. This is not an exaggeration. This is a true fact.”
Bears kick 39 yards to WAS 21. Pinckert to WAS 31 for 11 yards.
1-10-W31
Zimmerman pass over middle to Hare dropped.
2-10-W31
Zimmerman flat pass to Seymour to 50 for 19 yards. PENALTY on WAS, offside, 5 yards, enforced at WAS 31 — No Play.
2-15-W26
Zimmerman pass to Seymour to WAS 33 for 7 yards.
3-8-W33
Zimmerman pass to Sandy Sanford incomplete.
4-8-W33
Zimmerman punts 61 yards to CHI 6. Clark to CHI 15 for 9 yards.
Comment: Zimmerman, the Redskins’ No. 3 quarterback, threw 12 passes in the game. That’s as many as he threw in any of his three seasons with the team. But Redskins coach Ray Flaherty was so desperate he was willing to try anybody. Zimmerman, by the way, developed into a fine passer-punter-kicker after he was traded to the Eagles in 1943. In fact, the three Washington quarterbacks were as good a group as you’ll find. Baugh is iconic, of course — even though he was dreadful on this day — and Filchock had a passer rating of 111.6 in ’39 (when he completed a stunning 61.8 percent of his throws). Frankie also took the Giants to the title game in ’46.
1-10-C15
Clark right end to CHI 26 for 11 yards. Quarter ends.
FOURTH QUARTER
1-10-C26
Gary Famiglietti left tackle to CHI 29 for 3 yards.
2-7-C29
Famiglietti off tackle to CHI 32 for 3 yards.
3-4-C32
Clark up the middle to CHI 42 for 10 yards.
1-10-C42
On end-around, Bob Nowasky to CHI 48 for 7 yards.
2-3-C49
Solly Sherman left end to CHI 49 for no gain. PENALTY on WAS, slugging, 15 yards, enforced at CHI 49 — No Play.
1-10-W36
Sherman sacked by Millner at WAS 44 for -8 yards.
2-18-W44
Clark runs to WAS 44 for no gain.
3-18-W44
Sherman to Famiglietti to Clark on reverse to end zone for 44 yards
Famiglietti extra point NO GOOD.
CHICAGO 60, WASHINGTON 0, 7 plays, 74 yards.
Comment: The Redskins apparently didn’t like that end-around Chicago ran with a 54-0 lead. On the next snap, one of them slugged a Bear. Chicago responded by scoring yet another touchdown — on a third-and-18 reverse. You don’t see retribution like this anymore.
Bears kick 48 yards to WAS 12. Filchock to WAS 24 for 12 yards.
1-10-W24
Filchock pass to Millner to WAS 36 for 12 yards. PENALTY (unspecified) on WAS, 15 yards, enforced at WAS 27 — No Play.
1-22-W12
Filchock pass to McChesney incomplete. PENALTY on CHI, Pass Interference, Spot of Foul, enforced at WAS 19 — No Play.
1-10-W19
Filchock sacked, FUMBLES, RECOVERED by CHI-Jack Torrance at WAS 2.
Note: Torrance was nothing special as a tackle, but he held the world shot put record longer than any man in modern times — almost 14 years — after throwing it 57 feet, 1 inch, in 1934.
1-10-W2
Famiglietti left guard for 2 yards, TOUCHDOWN. Sherman pass to Maniaci in end zone, extra point is GOOD.
CHICAGO 67, WASHINGTON 0, 1 play, 2 yards.
Note: After Famiglietti’s score, the referee informed the Bears that the Redskins had run out of footballs. So rather than kick the last ball into the stands, they passed on their final two PAT attempts.
Bears kick 55 yards to WAS 5. Farkas to WAS 40 for 35 yards.
1-10-W40
Filchock pass to Millner to WAS 48 for 8 yards.
2-2-W48
Filchock long pass off hands of Bears’ Chet Chesney, INTERCEPTED by Maniaci. Maniaci to WAS 42.
Note: That’s the same Chet Chesney who was elected to Congress from Illinois’ 11th District in 1948.
1-10-W42
Maniaci left tackle to WAS 37 for 5 yards. PENALTY on CHI, offside, 5 yards, enforced at WAS 42 — No Play.
1-15-W47
Snyder sacked by Millner at CHI 43 for -10 yards.
2-25-C43
Snyder pass to Kavanaugh to CHI 45 for 2 yards.
3-23-C45
Snyder pass to Joe Mihal on tackle-eligible play to WAS 41 for 14 yards.
4-9-W41
Snyder pass to Maniaci to WAS 21 for 20 yards.
1-10-W21
Clark left end to WAS 13 for 8 yards.
2-2-W13
Maniaci right guard to WAS 6 for 7 yards.
1-6-W6
Maniaci right tackle to WAS 1 for 5 yards.
2-1-W1
Clark runs for 1 yard, TOUCHDOWN.
Snyder’s pass to Maniaci in end zone knocked down, extra point NO GOOD.
CHICAGO 73, WASHINGTON 0, 8 plays, 58 yards.
Comment: I’ve sometimes wondered whether Millner truly belongs in the Hall of Fame. After all, he caught just 124 passes in seven seasons and never led the league in any receiving category. But as this game shows, he was a terrific two-way end. He led all receivers with six grabs for 94 yards (depending on your source) and also had two sacks. This, after having a huge title game against the Bears in ’37 (nine catches, 160 yards, touchdowns of 55 and 78). The guy was clearly a prime-time player.
Bears kick returned to WAS 40.
1-10-W40
Filchock pass to Millner to CHI 48 for 12 yards.
1-10-C48
Filchock pass to Millner to CHI 39 for 9 yards.
2-1-C39
Filchock long pass to Millner INTERCEPTED by Maniaci, laterals to Clark at CHI 35. PENALTY on CHI, forward lateral, 15 yards, enforced at CHI 35.
Note: Up 73-0, the Bears are LATERALING and trying to score again.
1-10-C20
Snyder flat pass to Famiglietti to CHI 31 for 11 yards.
1-10-C31
Snyder fakes pass and runs up the middle to CHI 33 for 2 yards.
GAME OVER.
Comment: As if the lateral on the interception wren’t enough, the Bears called a pass and a fake pass on the last two plays. They basically taunted the Redskins the entire second half. Afterward, Washington owner George Preston Marshall accused his players of quitting, but then he thought about it some more and decided: “They simply lost their heads.” That sounds about right.
One final thought on the Biggest of Blowouts: The Bears were even better the next season, when Sid Luckman had another year of experience and they added Norm Standlee, a Nagurskiesque fullback. But a game like this, well, you only have one of those.
Sources: The Washington Post, The Official NFL Encyclopedia, The National Forgotten League, pro-football-reference.com.
