Tag Archives: Giants

Great moments in NFL fandom

We had an NFL first in Week 5. A Lions fan tried to discombobulate the Bills by shining a green laser pointer into the eyes of quarterback Kyle Orton and holder Colton Schmidt, but — and this might be the best part — he got caught because he made the mistake of tweeting about it (something that never happens in Mickey Spillane novels).

Now Mark Beslach will have to pay a fine for disorderly conduct, and he’s been banned from Ford Field for all eternity. Of course, “all eternity” means different things to different people. To somebody from Detroit, the Lions’ 2008 season, when they became the only team in league history to go 0-16, might qualify as “all eternity.”

Fans have been trying to insert themselves into the fray for as the NFL has been blowing up footballs. Minersville Field in Pottsville, Pa., home of the Maroons, was a particularly inhospitable place to play. Don Thompson, a guard for the Los Angeles Buccaneers in 1926, once told the Los Angeles Times, “The spectators stood on the sidelines and threw chunks of coal at us through the entire contest.”

Here’s the first known video of a fan running on the field and interrupting the game. It wasn’t just any game, either. It was the 1958 championship game between the Colts and Giants — the famed Sudden Death Game won by Baltimore, 23-17. It also wasn’t just any fan. It was a business manager for NBC News, Stan Rotkiewicz, who on Sundays would stand on the sideline and keep statistics for the network.

Impulse didn’t spur Rotkiewicz’s mad dash, though. Technical Difficulties did. Late in the game, some of the crowd had come down on the field, and somebody “behind the end zone had kicked [NBC’s] cable and unplugged America,” Mark Bowden writes in The Best Game Ever. The Colts were at the New York 8, about to push across the winning score, but fans at home had no picture on their TV screens.

So the business manager caused a brief — and necessary — delay by doing this:

By the time police escorted him off the field, technicians had identified the problem and reconnected the cable. Rotkiewicz’s heroics kept millions from missing the last three plays, capped by fullback Alan Ameche’s 1-yard touchdown run.

Then there was the Baltimore fan who ran on the field and snatched the ball during a Colts-Dolphins game in 1971. It might have been Colts linebacker Mike Curtis’ most famous forced fumble:

Ball, hat, fan — everything went flying. Any list of the NFL’s Greatest Hits has to include this one. Curtis had no qualms about it, either, no Pulverizer’s Remorse. Decades later he told The Associated Press: “We were trying to win a football game, trying to get to the playoffs, and this guy [Don Ennis] shows up on the football field. My intention was to get him out of there as quick as possible. Usually they run around for 15 or 20 minutes, and you can lose concentration and momentum.

“If somebody busts into my office uninvited, it’s trespassing. Just because it’s a stadium, that’s no different.”

Can’t fault that logic.

Finally, there was this episode in Denver in 1965, one of my personal favorites:

Fan fined for throwing ice cubes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s right, a Broncos fan was fined $50 for throwing ice cubes at the visiting Chiefs.

From Ice Cube Man to Laser Guy. What a glorious tradition.

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Passing for a pile of yards — and winning!

Whoever coined the phrase “statistics are for losers” might have had the 400-yard passing game in mind. At first glance, it seems like a significant achievement, one of those My Greatest Day in Football deals. That was certainly the case in the more defense-oriented ’70s, when there were only five 400-yard performances in the entire decade.

But on closer inspection you realize that, hey, a lot of these quarterbacks lost the game. (Exhibit A: the Cowboys’ Tony Romo, who went for 506 last October against the Broncos in a 51-48 defeat.) Indeed, from 1970 — the year the NFL and AFL merged — through 2012, most of these 400-yard passers lost the game. Their record was 115-118-2 (playoffs included). Here’s the breakdown:

RECORD OF QUARTERBACKS WHO THREW FOR 400 YARDS IN A GAME

[table width=“250px”]

Years,W,L,T,Pct

1970s,3,2,0,.600

1980s,37,32,1,.536

1990s,28,17,0,.622

2000s,33,34,1,.493

’10-12,14,33,0,.298

Totals,115,118,2,.494

[/table]

The line for the 2010-to-’12 period, with its woeful winning percentage (.298), really stands out. It suggests there are more “empty” passing yards these days — that is, yards that don’t necessarily lead to victories — than ever before. And that makes sense, given all the rule changes favoring the quarterback, his receivers and even his blockers. Let’s face it, if it were this easy to throw the ball in the ’30s and ’40s, Sammy Baugh’s name would come up in conversation much more regularly.

But something interesting has happened the past two years: Quarterbacks who have passed for 400-plus yards have started winning more. When Peyton Manning racked up 479 yards Sunday in the Broncos’ 41-20 battering of the previously perfect Cardinals, it raised the record of 400-yard QBs since the start of 2013 to 18-11 (.621).

Suddenly, a 400-yard game isn’t, as often as not, just a nice consolation prize. Suddenly it isn’t merely the result of a quarterback having to take to the air because his team was desperately behind. Teams are getting ahead by passing, staying ahead by passing and closing out games by passing — as Manning did in Week 5.

Consider: Leading by 21 with 3:58 left — and with Arizona down to its No. 3 QB because of injuries — Peyton began a series from the Denver 32 with . . . a 13-yard completion to Demaryius Thomas. (Granted, he wanted Thomas to break Shannon Sharpe’s club record of 214 receiving yards in a game — and that catch put Demaryius over the top with 226 — but still . . . . Times sure have changed.)

Then, too, perhaps quarterbacks are winning more of these 400-yard passing games because they’re getting more practice at it. As you may have noticed in the above chart, the number of them has increased dramatically in this decade. There were 12 400-yard games in 2010, 20 in 2011, 15 in 2012 and 26 last season. Those are four of the six highest totals in league history. We’re not even halfway through the ’10s, and already there have been 76 400-yard passing games. That’s more than the ’70s and ’80s combined (75) — and six more than any other decade, for that matter (next most: the ’80s with 70).

Of course, there’s always the possibility the pendulum will swing back again — as it’s been known to do. In the first five years of the 2000s, for instance, 400-yard passers were 23-15-1; in the next eight seasons they were 24-52. This latest blip just happened to catch my attention. When 400-yard passers win 16 games in 2013 alone, twice as many as in any previous year, you might call it Statistically Noteworthy.

Finally, in case you’re curious:

HOW ACTIVE QUARTERBACKS HAVE FARED WHEN THROWING FOR 400 YARDS

[table width=“275px”]

Quarterback\, Team(s),W-L,Pct

Tom Brady\, Patriots,5-1,.833

Peyton Manning\, Colts/Broncos,13-3,.813

Aaron Rodgers\, Packers,3-1,.750

Drew Brees\, Saints,6-7,.462

Ben Roethlisberger\, Steelers,2-3,.400

Eli Manning\, Giants,2-3,.400

Philip Rivers\, Chargers,2-4,.333

Tony Romo\, Cowboys,0-5,.000

[/table]

Source: pro-football-reference.com

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The latest Running Back from Nowhere

Once again Sunday, NFL fans watched slack-jawed as another Mystery Running Back darted and dashed all over the field. This time it was Branden Oliver, the Chargers’ undrafted rookie, who amazed the masses, racking up 114 yards rushing, 68 receiving and one touchdown — in just his third game as a pro — as San Diego routed the Jets 31-0.

This is becoming almost an annual event now, pro football’s version of Punxsutawney Phil emerging from his hole to forecast the weather. Oliver’s emergence, of course, just reminds everybody that scouting is a woefully inexact science, especially when it comes to running backs.

We know this because good ones go unclaimed in the draft all the time. Indeed, there have been 17 1,000-yard rushing seasons in the 2000s by backs who weren’t selected. Practically every year, it seems, an overlooked runner makes personnel departments cringe by leading the NFL in rushing, yards from scrimmage, touchdowns or otherwise distinguishing himself. Check out this list:

THE 9 UNDRAFTED BACKS IN THE 2000S WHO HAVE BEEN 1,000-YARD RUSHERS

[table width=”500px”]

Running back\, Team,Best Year,Att,Yds,Avg,TD

Arian Foster\, Texans,2010,327,1\,616,4.9,16

Priest Holmes\, Chiefs,2002,313,1\,615,5.2,21

Willie Parker\, Steelers,2006,337,1\,494,4.3,13

Ryan Grant\, Packers,2009,282,1\,253,4.4,11

James Allen\, Bears,2000,290,1\,120,3.9,2

Dominic Rhodes\, Colts,2001,233,1\,104,4.7,9

BenJarvus Green-Ellis\, Bengals,2012,278,1\,094,3.9,6

Fred Jackson\, Bills,2009,237,1\,062,4.5,2

LeGarrette Blount\, Bucs,2010,201,1\,007,5.0,6

[/table]

Note: League leaders in bold face. Foster (2,220) and Holmes (2,287) also led the league in yards from scrimmage.

It’s not just these guys, either. It’s all the other guys, the ones who were drafted as afterthoughts in the late rounds. There are plenty of those, too. Such as:

TOP LATE-ROUND RUNNING BACKS IN THE 2000S

[table width=”500px”]

Running back\ Team,Round,Best Year,Att,Yds,Avg,TD

Michael Turner\, Falcons,5th,2008,376,1\,699,4.5,17

Alfred Morris\, Redskins,6th,2012,335,1\,613,4.8,13

Mike Anderson\, Broncos,6th,2000,297,1\,487,5.0,15

Ahmad Bradshaw\, Giants,7th,2010,276,1\,235,4.5,8

Chester Taylor\, Vikings,6th,2006,303,1\,216,4.0,6

[/table]

Oliver, built along the lines of the Eagles’ Darren Sproles at 5-foot-7, 201 pounds, came out of the same University of Buffalo program that produced James Starks. Starks, you may recall, was one of the nicer stories of 2010. After being drafted in the sixth round by the Packers and spending most of the season on the Physically Unable to Perform list, he pulled a Punxsutawney Phil in the playoffs and rushed for 315 yards to help Green Bay win the Super Bowl. It’s the third-highest rushing total by a rookie in the postseason since 1960.

There’s no telling what lies ahead for Oliver. Sunday could be the highlight of his career or it could lead to even better things. With Donald Brown now questionable with a concussion, Ryan Matthews (knee) still out and Danny Woodhead (broken fibula) on injured reserve, there’s plenty of opportunity for the rookie.

But if it is his one, brief, shining moment, it was an awfully good one. His 182 yards from scrimmage are the third most by a running back this season (and include a 50-yard reception).

But getting back to our previous subject — why are so many good backs drafted so low (or not at all)? — it’s interesting to compare the Top 5 rushers this season with the Top 5 passers in terms of what round they went in.

CURRENT TOP 5 RUSHERS

[table width=”350px”]

Yds,Running Back\, Team,Round (Pick)

670,DeMarco Murray\, Cowboys,3rd (71)

460,Le’Veon Bell\, Steelers,2nd (48)

404,Arian Foster\, Texans,UFA

396,Rashad Jennings\, Giants,7th (250)

365,Frank Gore\, 49ers,3rd (65)

[/table]

CURRENT TOP 5 IN PASSER RATING

[table width=”350px”]

Rating, Quarterback\, Team,Round (Pick)

116.3,Philip Rivers\, Chargers,1st (4)

114.8,Aaron Rodgers\, Packers,1st (24)

112.9,Russell Wilson\, Seahawks,3rd (75)

109.0,Peyton Manning\, Broncos,1st (1)

100.3,Andy Dalton\, Bengals,2nd (35)

[/table]

Huge contrast, no? On the quarterback side, you’ve got three No. 1s (two of them very high), a near No. 1 and a No. 3. And on the running back side, you’ve got a second-rounder, two third-rounders, a seventh-rounder and an undrafted free agent.

You hear all the time that the hardest position evaluate is quarterback. Well, on the basis of this, running backs may be even harder to get a read on.

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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Talk about your Short Work Weeks

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

Anyway, as you watch tonight’s Redskins-Giants hostilities at FedEx Field, keep in mind how much worse it used to be for NFL players. Yes, worse. In the 1920s, for instance, games on back-Screen Shot 2014-09-25 at 8.07.32 PMto-back days were far from uncommon. When the Frankford Yellow Jackets won the championship in 1926, they had three weeks where they played on Saturday and Sunday and another where they played on Thursday and Saturday. Amazingly, they won seven of the eight games.

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

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

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

Source: pro-football-reference.com

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Butch Gibson, Hercules of the latter-day Giants

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

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

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

Here’s the classic Ripley’s cartoon:

Butch Gibson Ripley's

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Speaking of smallish players . . .

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

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

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

Tarzan White hoisting guy

 

 

 

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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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