by Jerry Kramer
Then Vince talked about Bart. He told us that Bart's been playing with injuries ever since the season began, and as he spoke, he got very emotional. “I don't know if you guys know it or not,” Lombardi said, “but this guy's been hurt and he's been in pain, and he's been playing hurt, and he's been—” And Vince couldn't finish the sentence. He got all choked up and misty-eyed, and he looked like he was going to start crying, and he just motioned to another coach to turn the lights off and start the projector. He was sort of quiet while we suffered through the movies of the Atlanta game.
After the movies, we played our regular touch game, and I intercepted four passes, an all-time Tuesday morning record. The guys awarded me the game ball, and I just hope this is an omen of the game to come. There's been a lot of stuff in the papers about Alex Karras and how great he is. I guess it's been a while since the writers could find anything to zing Green Bay, and Alex's been giving them a mouthful. I'd like to give him a mouthful—of my shoe.
OCTOBER 4
Everybody is on me about Alex Karras, the newspapers, my coaches, my teammates. Lee Roy Caffey offered me a few subtle hints today, and Willie Davis came over and sat by my locker and chatted with me, and Henry Jordan told me what he'd do to handle Alex. Coach Lombardi drove me extra hard, trying to be helpful, and Tommy McCormick, our backfield coach, who hadn't said two words to me all year, came over and told me about the letters he's been getting with advice for me. I wish everyone would leave me alone.
I think about Alex all the time, morning, noon, and night, even when I'm watching television. I think about the way he's built, stocky, like a bowling ball, and I think about his strength. He's been a wrestler and a weightlifter, so he's got tremendous power in his arms and his upper body. But most of my thoughts are vicious. A Milwaukee sportswriter, who's a complete ass, had an article this morning in which Alex was talking about how he plays better against a good team and about how much he's looking forward to playing against the Green Bay Packers again. I'm looking forward to killing him.
OCTOBER 5
We're going to get our first indication Sunday of what kind of a team we've really got this year. This is the first time we've taken an opponent seriously, the first time we've realized we're in for a football game, the first time we've faced up to a challenge. Right after the Atlanta game, Lee Roy Caffey said that part of the reason we looked so bad was that we were all looking beyond Atlanta to the Lions, and I'm sure he was right. If we're not up this week, we'll never be.
We had a long workout today, polishing our game plan, and the game plan comes down to one thing: Pass protection, pass protection, pass protection. Vince kept stressing the pass rush of Detroit's defensive tackles, Karras in particular, and how we're going to stop it. We're working on draws and screens and on running inside, between their tackles, and from a personal point of view, I couldn't be happier. It's just what I'd do if I were calling the plays. I'd try running plays right up the middle to keep their defensive tackles aware of our ground game, and then, on passing situations, I'd use a lot of draws and screens so that they can't mount an all-out pass rush. In other words, I'd keep them guessing. Lombardi's thinking exactly the way I am, so I guess he really is a very great coach.
OCTOBER 6
Dave Hanner gave me a few tips this morning, mostly on pass protection, and he reminded me that I had played a particularly good game against Alex in 1965. So after practice Kenny Bowman, the center, and I stayed at the stadium and went over the 1965 films.
I think I've got a pretty good idea now of what Alex is going to do Sunday, and I've got a much more positive attitude about how I'm going to block him. If I did screw up in the first game— and I'm not convinced that I did—my main problem was an uncertain approach to the game. I thought I'd make my moves and let Alex react and then I'd counter-react, and I'd be quick enough and strong enough to handle him. I did handle him, to a certain extent, but not well enough. Now I'm going to try to anticipate his move, which is to the outside 90 or 95 percent of the time. He likes to come in, hesitate for a moment, then give you a quick move to the outside, push you to the inside and rush for the quarterback. I'm going to anticipate him Sunday. I'm going to attack him, to get in front of him and stop him.
Bart hasn't healed yet, and Zeke's definitely going to be our quarterback Sunday. Today, at the end of practice, Bart and Zeke were talking together, and Bart said, “By the way, I've got a great book for you to read when we get to Detroit tomorrow.” Zeke perked up and said, “Yeah? What is it?” And Bart said, “Well, the name of the book is Quarterbaching, and it's written by a guy named Starr.” Zeke broke up laughing.
OCTOBER 7
After a brief workout in Green Bay this morning, we flew to Detroit and checked in at our hotel. I was in a real hurry to get to the hotel, because I'd heard that when the Lions played us in Green Bay, Alex Karras won a lot of money playing cards the day before the game. I figure this is my week. I won big today, a good sign for tomorrow. I think we're all going to be ready to play.
OCTOBER 8
Just for a little extra insurance, I made sure that Chandler woke me up this morning in time to go to the devotional service. I figured a few prayers certainly wouldn't hurt me any against Karras. (Hank Gremminger, who was with us a few years ago, used to eat fish on Friday, even though he was a Protestant, just in case.) Carroll Dale read from the Bible, and then Bart gave a little sermon saying that if a man doesn't use his ability to the fullest, he's cheating on God. The theme of the sermon, of course, came from the Book of Vincent, and Bart did a very nice job.
I think most of the guys on the team are fairly religious. There may be a few atheists, but they keep their feelings quiet, I guess, because Coach Lombardi is so religious. Personally, I enjoy the chance to pray before a game. I have two special prayers of my own: “Don't let me make a fool of myself” and “Don't let anyone get hurt.” I rarely pray for victory, but if we're in a big game, I sometimes say, “I don't like to ask You this, Lord, but…”
We don't have too many religious discussions on the team, but I remember Max McGee once arguing with Hornung. “You run around every night, Paul,” Max said, “and then you go to church on Sunday. You're really a hypocrite.”
“Max,” said Paul, “you go to church with the hope that if you go enough, it'll help you eventually. Maybe some day you'll overcome your weaknesses.”
Max wouldn't accept Paul's answer, and they argued back and forth and, finally, they called over Bill Curry, a deeply religious young man who used to play with us, and presented their cases to him. Bill listened very carefully, then said, “This isn't something between you and me, Paul, or between you and me, Max. This is something between both of you and—”
McGee interrupted. “Oh, no,” he said. “Don't bring that Lombardi into this.”
After the service this morning, Don and I went back to our room to watch cartoons for a while. I guess we've seen all the cartoons ever made. There isn't much else to watch on television Sunday mornings.
By the time we reached the locker room, I'd worked up a feeling of pure hatred. For three weeks, I'd been hearing about nothing but Alex Karras, and I wanted to destroy him. By the time the game was over, I also wanted to destroy my old University of Idaho teammate, Wayne Walker. Wayne is my friend off the field, a nice, sweet guy, but on the field, he is a miserable sonuvabitch. He has got to be one of the most obnoxious players in football. In one game about six, seven years ago, I blocked him a few times successfully and knocked him on his butt. Then we punted. I was held up at the line of scrimmage, and when I saw one of our men down the punt, I turned to go off the field. I was completely relaxed. Wayne Walker slammed me from the blind side. I went down, and he stood over me, laughing. “Guess I got you back, didn't I?” he said.
I couldn't stand up. My knee was killing me.
“I didn't mean to hurt you,” Wayne said. He reached over and helped me up and then helped me off the field to my bench. That's the only time an opposing playe
r ever helped me off the field—after he'd blind-sided me.
Today, on one play, we ran a screen to the left. Our center was blocking on Wayne, who was at right linebacker, and I was just trying to go around him, and Wayne came up and hit me right in the head with a forearm and really rattled my cage. I would have murdered him if I could have gotten to him, but the referee stepped between us before I could hit him. “Cut it out,” the referee said. And Wayne said, “That's my buddy, that's my buddy, we're only kidding.” I looked for him the rest of the game, and if I'd reached my buddy I guarantee I would have given him my best shot. I wanted to break his neck.
Detroit jumped off in front of us again, 10–0, on a couple of deflected passes that were intercepted by their defensive ends. The first one set up a field goal by Walker, and the second was carried into the end zone by one of their big dummies. But we never panicked. We never hesitated. We knew we were going to win the game, that it was just a matter of time. As I've said before, we've never been defeated; we just run out of time once in a while.
We didn't run out of time today. We bounced back with one touchdown in the second quarter and then Chandler kicked a pair of field goals to put us in front 13-10 early in the fourth quarter, and then Dave Robinson deflected one of their passes and Ray Nitschke intercepted it. Even though he pulled a muscle on the play, Nitschke ran 20 yards for a touchdown. A few minutes later, Zeke threw his second touchdown pass, and we wrapped up the game. They scored in the closing minutes to make the final margin 27-17.
I don't think Karras got through me to the quarterback once all day. I'd like to say this was because I had a great day, but I'd be lying. I had a good day. But, actually, from a sheer technical standpoint, I didn't play much better than I'd played against Alex in Green Bay. I was ready today, mentally and physically. I was more aggressive. I had help from Bowman on the inside, so I concentrated on stopping Alex's outside charge. But the big difference between this game and the first one wasn't me. The difference was partly our game plan and mostly Zeke.
The game plan worked beautifully. We ran very well to the inside, forcing the Lions to keep looking for the run. Zeke called a fine game, but, more important, he got rid of the ball quicker than Bart had three weeks ago. Right after the first Detroit game, I'd suspected that I hadn't played so badly as some people thought. What happened today confirmed my suspicion. When you've been playing for a long time for a good team, you subconsciously get a little lazy on your pass blocks. You hold your man off for exactly the amount of time it takes your quarterback to get his pass off, and then you let up. The first time we played the Lions, Bart wasn't getting the ball off on time, probably because of his injuries. He was holding the ball a second or two seconds too long, and, as a result, I looked lousy. Today, Zeke was releasing the ball right on schedule, and I looked great. The sportswriters all think I demolished Alex today, and I'm not about to correct them. He got the credit last time; I'll take it today.
We're leading our division comfortably now, with a record of three victories and one tie; the Lions are a distant second with one victory, two defeats and a tie. I don't think I'll be hearing about Alex Karras again for a while.
OCTOBER 9
I let go today. I enjoyed myself completely. I drank a few beers and played a little cards, a lovely day off. I'd put a great deal of time and mental effort into the Detroit game, so I felt I'd earned a day of relaxation. I'm not a very well-disciplined person anyway, and for me to regiment myself for any length of time is difficult.
OCTOBER 10
“Gentlemen,” Coach Lombardi said this morning, “today we start the big push.” I think I've heard that line before.
Vince had a few nice words for everybody. He said we did a truly remarkable job. But he seemed to be a little confused about our tendency to let down when we have an easy game and to play extremely hard when we have a difficult game. “Well, I guess it's all right,” he said. “As long as you keep winning the big ones, that's what we want. But, I don't know, it isn't really all right, because if you're going to let down, you're going to look like hell sometimes. Hell, I don't know what to say.” That was a very rare admission for him.
Fuzzy Thurston was one of my guests when I taped my TV show tonight, and I asked him how it felt to be a substitute after so many years as a regular. “Not being a starting guard is kind of hard,” Fuzzy said, “but after ten years, I think I can adjust to it. And if anything happens to you or Gilly, I'll be ready.”
“You were certainly ready for the Bears when I got hurt,” I said. “You played a fine football game.”
“Yeah,” said Fuzzy. “I was ready. I was the guy who kicked you in the head.”
OCTOBER 11
Vince came up next to me during practice today, slapped me on the back, and said, “How you feeling?”
“Great, Coach, great,” I said. What the hell can you say?
“That's good,” he said, with that big grin of his. “Makes you want to play this game a few more years, doesn't it?”
“Sure does,” I said. I'm full of clever remarks.
I've been talking about quitting and retiring for God knows how long, and it was such an effort to get ready to play this year, but the way Lombardi acts, you get all confused. He screams at you, hollers at you, makes life unbearable until you're about ready to quit, and then he starts being real nice to you and makes your life enjoyable for a while.
I've been wondering about his retiring, too. The talk has sort of quieted down, but just the other day, waiting for the plane to Detroit, I turned to his wife, Marie, and said, “Coach is never going to retire, is he?”
“The heck he's not,” she said. Obviously, she's had some household talks with him about it, and her feelings in the matter are pretty clear.
We started serious preparations for the Minnesota Vikings today, and I've been warned about a big rookie named Alan Page. He played for Notre Dame last year, and he's about 6′5″, maybe 270 pounds, and he looks real tough in the movies. I guess I've got my hands full again. I thought after the Lions I'd have a medium week, but that's out. I've got another miserable week.
The alligator shoes Chandler and I had ordered came in from the manufacturer today, about $1,200 worth, and when we handed them out to the guys and tried to collect the money, some of them started complaining, “These don't fit. Send them back.” I got disgusted. I told them all to stick it in their ear. They can send them back themselves if they want to. That's what happens when you try to do something for somebody.
After the workout, I stopped in at Blaine Williams' office. We're a little concerned about the portraits. They're not moving as well as they should. Kraft told us that we should be set up to fill 20,000 orders a day, and we've been receiving only fifty to a hundred. Blaine went to Chicago the other day to talk to the Kraft people, to see if we could get another shot of advertising on the Kraft Music Hall. He told me today that we'd get a couple of more shots, that the Kraft people said we were premature in our thinking and our worrying. So I'm going to quit worrying about it.
OCTOBER 12
Coach said this morning that our timing is coming along, that our halfbacks are starting to hit the holes a little better. He said the whole program is beginning to escalate, that we're moving toward our peak. We sure haven't reached our peak yet, but I guess things are moving slowly in that direction. “If things start going right, I'll really be a genius,” Lombardi said. “Everybody'll say we took it easy the first four games, we didn't rush anything, we didn't hurt ourselves, and I really must be a genius….”
The meeting room was very quiet, until Willie Davis boomed out, “OR …” He didn't say anything else, but we all got a giggle out of the implication: “Or if things don't pick up, you'll be a dummy.” That's the way the football world works, I guess.
We're having trouble again getting up for the game, but we really shouldn't. Minnesota always gives us a rough time. In fact, they were the last team to beat us; they won, 20-17, in the middle of last sea
son. Since then, we've gone seventeen games without a defeat—two playoff games, six exhibitions, and nine regular-season games. For some strange reason, the Vikings always seem to think they're capable of beating us. They have no trouble at all getting up for us. But it's hard for us to get too worried about them. So far this season they haven't won a game.
OCTOBER 13
It was raining hard this morning, too hard for us to go out to practice at the usual time. So, instead of having one meeting before practice and another afterward, we had our two meetings right in a row, at the beginning. “Don't worry,” Lombardi said. “We'll be able to work out after the meetings.” I don't think any of us were really too worried about not being able to practice.
We all began kidding about how Lombardi controls the weather, at least in this part of the world, and by the time we finished our meetings, the rain had let up and the field was halfway usable. Vince looked up at the sky, like he was looking at one of his assistants, and said, “See, I told you it would clear up.” I think he's starting to believe he controls the weather.
Max McGee didn't get to play against Detroit last Sunday-one of the first games he'd sat out completely in a long time—and he was feeling pretty low, pretty dejected. So today Lombardi was cussing Bob Long, riding his tail, kind of making up to Max by being rough on Flakey “C'mon, Long, c'mon,” Vince screamed. “Let's see you block. Let's see you hit somebody.” About three plays after Lombardi chewed him out, Flakey went out to block Bob Jeter on a sweep. Jete started to step around him, and Flakey moved in front of him and pushed him. Jete pushed him back, and Long threw a forearm, and then Jete threw a forearm and cut Flakey's mouth, two or three stitches' worth. Flakey promptly began swinging. Somebody broke it up, but things were kind of hairy for a while. We hadn't had anything like that on the practice field in a few years, and afterward Flakey was going around with a fat lip, and Jete felt bad about the whole thing, because it wasn't his idea in the first place.
