The Packers' Bill Butler fumbled the opening kickoff and the Lions recovered on the Green Bay 19. The Packers' defensive starters grabbed their helmets and hustled out. Lombardi glared at Butler as the rookie came off the field.
The fans shouted, hoping for a fast start that would enliven the afternoon. Then Henry Jordan jumped offside, moving the Lions five yards closer to the end zone. But the Packer defense held. Fullback Nick Pietrosante plunged into the line twice, but Jordan and Quinlan knocked him back. Jordan pressured Morrall into an incompletion on third down and the Lions settled for a short field goal.
Butler gripped the ball tightly on the ensuing kickoff and zipped out to the Packer 35 before being tackled. Now the offense could get started. Starr faked a handoff to Taylor, dropped back, and spotted Dowler breaking open over the middle. In just a few weeks, the spindly rookie receiver had emerged as a primary threat. Starr loved throwing to him. This ball led Dowler perfectly and he grabbed it for a thirty-two-yard gain.
From there the offense moved into scoring territory on runs by Taylor and Hornung, and a completion to Knafelc, who was hit late, tacking on another fifteen yards. At the 6, Hornung swept to his right and faked toward the line. The Lions' Jim David was so fooled he spun like a top and almost fell. Hornung darted past him into the end zone, then stayed on to kick the extra point, putting the Packers up, 7–3.
The Lions' Terry Barr returned the kickoff to his 20 and fumbled when Nitschke leveled him with a flying tackle to the chest. The Packers recovered at the Detroit 18, and the crowd groaned. "Let's take advantage!" Lombardi hollered as the offense jogged back onto the field. A tripping penalty on Skoronski moved the ball back, but Dowler sprinted over the middle and veered toward the right sideline, and Starr's pass hit him in stride at the 15. Breaking tackles, he continued to the 3 before being pushed out of bounds—a thirty-yard gain.
Starr called the same play that worked on the goal line moments earlier—Hornung sweeping right. This time the Lions' Jim David didn't fall for his fake, so Hornung put his head down and bulled through the defender, falling into the end zone in a heap with David. Hornung stood up, handed the ball to an official, took a deep breath, and booted the extra point. The Packers had a 14–3 lead after seven minutes, and Hornung had scored every Green Bay point. The Golden Boy jogged to the sideline thinking how much better things had gone since that crazy game in Chicago when he couldn't hold onto the ball. He was back in the middle of things again. That damn Lombardi had stuck with him, given him another chance. He appreciated the hell out of it.
The Lions' sloppy play continued. A receiver fumbled while running an end-around, and Bill Forester recovered, leading to a thirty-nine-yard field goal by Hornung. Then Dave Hanner barged into Morrall as the quarterback was setting up to pass. The ball bounced free and Jordan fell on it at the Detroit 49 as boos sounded.
Thinking he could knock out the Lions with another score, Starr called for a pass to McGee over the middle. McGee made a diving catch for a twenty-yard gain. "Great grab, Max," Starr said. Thinking the Lions would expect a run now, Starr called for another pass. McGee faked a sideline route and cut over the middle again. Starr's throw was slightly behind him, but McGee reached back, grabbed the ball, and reeled it in as he was being hit for a twelve-yard gain, putting the ball on the Detroit 17.
Taylor swept right, waiting for a hole to open, and Hornung, as part of the blocking convoy, dove at a linebacker and knocked the defender back. Taylor veered into the hole, but Joe Schmidt, the Lions' middle linebacker, fought off a block and knocked Taylor sideways. Stumbling, Taylor stepped right on Hornung, who remained on the ground after the play, pain shooting through his chest.
Hornung slowly rose and walked off, obviously injured, and Lombardi sent in Don McIlhenny. Starr immediately flipped him a short pass in the left flat. The Lions, focused on McGee and Dowler, left him alone, and he jogged to the end zone untouched, but Kramer was flagged for moving before the snap, erasing the score and moving the ball back to the 16. The Lions appeared to force a field goal attempt but defensive back Gary Lowe foolishly piled on Taylor after he was down, and a referee threw a flag for a personal foul, giving the Packers a first down at the 8. The defense sagged. McIlhenny ran off right tackle to the 1, and Taylor carried the ball over on second down. Hornung's extra point put the Packers up, 24–3.
The Lions were embarrassed to be so far behind, especially on Thanksgiving. When their return man fumbled the next kickoff, some fans contemplated leaving. But the Lions recovered the loose ball, and their offense, as if it knew the fans were losing patience, responded with its best drive so far. Blockers opened holes and backs charged through them. Pietrosante gained fifteen up the middle. Howard Cassady took a pitch around left end for twelve. Morrall ran a college-style option play and pitched to Pietrosante for sixteen. Cassady finished the drive with a five-yard touchdown run.
The Packers' next series ended when McGee, after making several hard catches, dropped an easy one. Then he shanked a punt, and the Lions started a possession on their 47. Pietrosante gained fifteen up the middle and eleven around left end, and a little-used receiver, Jerry Reichow, fooled Hank Gremminger on the right sideline and caught a twenty-seven-yard touchdown pass. Just like that, the Packer lead was down to 24–17.
Lombardi fumed in the halftime locker room. We let them right back in it! What the hell is going on?! But he wondered if he had pushed the players too hard between games so close together. The defense looked tired. It had given up only one touchdown in the past six quarters before today, but clearly had lost steam in the second quarter. Lombardi spoke to Forester and Hanner about taking the lead in the huddle and making sure the letdown didn't continue.
Someone make a play. We can turn this thing back around.
Detroit's offense held the ball for the first half of the third quarter, slowly moving from its 16 to the Green Bay 25 on a blend of runs by Pietrosante and short passes by Morrall. The fans stood, excited by the comeback. The Lions were going nowhere this season, but it was nice to see life.
On first down at the 25, Bill Quinlan fended off a block and tackled Pietrosante for a two-yard loss. A backfield-in-motion penalty set the Lions back five more yards, and then Bettis correctly guessed pass, red-dogged Morrall, and tackled the retreating quarterback for an eleven-yard loss. Now the Lions were in trouble. Needing twenty-eight yards on third down, Morrall picked up twelve on a pass to Cassady, and then, strangely, the Lions went for it on fourth down rather than attempt a thirty-eight-yard field goal. Bad move. Bettis red-dogged again, and Morrall's rushed pass fluttered harmlessly to the ground.
The Lions had held the ball for more than nine minutes but come away without points.
The Packers tried to reestablish control with their running game, but with Hornung on the sidelines, the Lions focused on Taylor and he couldn't make gains. After blocking so well against the Redskins on Sunday, the Packer linemen struggled now. Green Bay gave up the ball, but the Lions went nowhere and punted back. Then Starr tried a different tactic, calling a series of passing plays. He hit Dowler on the left sideline for thirty-six, moving the ball to the Detroit 27. The Lion defense held there, though, and Hornung limped on for a thirty-two-yard field goal attempt, which sailed left, no good.
The Packers wasted an even better scoring chance a few minutes later when Forester intercepted Morrall at midfield and headed for the end zone. He was tackled at the 7, and a couple of runs moved the ball to the 1, but Taylor, showing rust, fumbled as he lunged for the goal line on third down. Lombardi jerked his head in frustration when the referees signaled that Detroit recovered.
Hold onto the damn ball, Taylor!
The Lions were running out of time, though. John Symank intercepted Morrall to end one Detroit drive, and a final Detroit series went nowhere. The Packers led at the final gun, 24–17. The Packer defense had risen up after Lombardi's halftime challenge, shutting out the Lions in the second half.
Lombardi flashed a broad smil
e to reporters. He didn't care that the Lions had badly outrushed his team (190 yards to 73) and controlled both lines of scrimmage for much of the game. Look at the big picture, he said. The Packers hadn't finished with a winning record since 1947 or won more than six games in a season since 1944, but now they were 5–5 with two games left, on the road against the Rams and 49ers.
"I would love to finish six and six, I will allow that," Lombardi said, "as long as you guys don't expect eight and four next year."
What happened after his team built that early lead? "I made a mistake by practicing on Monday and Tuesday," Lombardi said. "We should have taken Monday off. We were tired in the second half. Playing two games in five days had an effect."
Is that what caused the offense to shut down after it scored twenty-four points in the first twenty minutes? "Well, we lost Paul there [to a rib injury] and couldn't run the ball without him," Lombardi said. "Fortunately, Starr played a very strong game."
The game had been rough. Jim Temp showed reporters his hands, which were bloody from being scraped across the hardened turf. "I've never had so many chunks of meat taken out of me in one game in my life," Temp said. Hornung showed off the bruises on his chest from when Taylor stepped on him. He feared he had broken a rib. Bettis had twisted a knee and Thurston had sprained an ankle.
But the locker room was a happy place, the players excited to win two games in a row.
"This sure makes for a nice Thanksgiving," Starr said as the players showered and dressed for the quick charter flight home.
"Yes, the turkey is going to taste extra sweet," Knafelc said.
Hornung, looking ahead to the team's remaining games (and the trip to California, his favorite), said, "We'll be tough to beat out on the West Coast, no doubt about it; tough like we've never been tough before."
The players sensed a change in their basic condition, a transformation. They had emerged from their five-game losing streak with a harder edge they had lacked for years. They could run over you, bloody your nose, and beat you. They weren't losers anymore. Lombardi had hammered them into a tough, competitive team.
Their fans could also sense the change. Back in Green Bay, several thousand got in their cars and drove to Austin-Straubel Field to greet the team plane, adjusting holiday plans to show support.
Back in their glory days, the Packers had returned home from important road wins to find enormous, cheering crowds waiting at the train station. When they won their first NFL title in 1929 by beating the Bears in Chicago, they were greeted by ten thousand people. The custom had continued into the 1940s, with raucous station greetings serving as exclamation points to big wins—and preludes to all-night, citywide drinking binges, with the police happily looking the other way at closing time.
The tradition had faded along with the Packers in the 1950s, their airport greetings dwindling to a few diehards. But this Thanksgiving victory in Detroit kindled the old spirit. A season sweep of the Lions, who had dominated the NFL in the 1950s, reminded fans of the days when they supported a winner. Millions of TV viewers across the country had watched Lombardi's improving team. That was exciting.
Some three thousand people had gathered by early evening when the charter landed. A light snow fell in the fading light. The fans massed behind a fence and waited as the plane taxied up to the terminal. They cheered and held up signs as the players ducked out of the plane and waved. Lombardi, emerging last, thanked the fans for coming.
"We've won three more games than I expected to win," he shouted from the middle of the portable stairway, wishing he had a microphone.
The fans cheered, and Lombardi smiled as he waited for the noise to die down. Then he continued.
"With two games to go, we're still in there. We're going to go to California. Anything can happen!"
The fans roared. Yeah, beat their asses out there! They looked at each other with smiles, sharing the same thought: Boy, it sure was fun rooting for a good team.
19
LOMBARDI GAVE THE players the weekend off, knowing they needed a break after playing two games in five days near the end of a long season. Most stayed around Green Bay and tended to their aches. Starr went hunting and picked up a chest cold.
The players reported back Monday morning and boarded a charter flight to California. They would practice for a week in Los Angeles before playing the Rams on Sunday, and then fly to the Bay Area, practice for another week, and play the 49ers. It was the trip the Packers always ended the season with, and to say the least, it had never gone well. They had won just one of eighteen games in California during the 1950s, their average margin of defeat almost three touchdowns.
Their on-field miseries hadn't kept the players from enjoying themselves; no matter how badly they lost on the field, they still felt they had won by trading in Wisconsin's cold and snow for California's sunny warmth—and its many clubs and restaurants.
This latest trip felt different from the beginning. Instead of staying at a soon-to-be-condemned lodge for senior citizens in Pasadena, the Packers checked into a beach resort in Santa Monica; they ate breakfast on their verandas, surrounded by lush flora and staring out at the Pacific Ocean. Got to hand it to Lombardi: we don't travel like chumps anymore. And they actually had something to play for. The Colts and 49ers were now tied for the Western Division lead with 7–3 records, followed by the Bears at 6–4 and the Packers at 5–5. The Packers couldn't win the division (either the Colts or 49ers would have eight wins after they played Sunday in San Francisco) but they could finish third, possibly even second if they won both games.
Mostly, beyond any such tangible considerations, they just wanted to keep winning.
The players began the trip without their coach; the first rounds of the NFL's college draft took place on Monday in Philadelphia with Lombardi, Phil Bengston, and Jack Vainisi representing the Packers. Their first two picks were offensive backs, Vanderbilt's Tom Moore and Iowa's Bob Jeter. Both had more speed than Hornung or Taylor, Lombardi said, and could develop into game breakers.
Bill Austin, Norb Hecker, and Red Cochran ran practice at UCLA on Tuesday as Lombardi and Bengston flew west, and Lombardi was back in charge Wednesday as the Packers began preparing for a Rams team that had fallen apart since its 45–6 destruction of the Packers earlier in the season. After looking invincible that day, Los Angeles hadn't won since, losing six games in a row, a startling collapse by a team that had thought it could win a championship after going 8–4 in 1958 and trading for Ollie Matson. Rams coach Sid Gillman reportedly was in danger of being fired.
The Packers enjoyed themselves during the week but slowly got ready for Sunday. It helped that Las Vegas made them five-point underdogs, obviously still doubting they had turned a corner. The bookmakers had history on their side—the Packers had lost six games in a row to the Rams going back to 1956, and hadn't won in Los Angeles since 1947—but Lombardi told the players they could beat the Rams on Sunday as thoroughly as the Rams had whipped them earlier. It was clear from the game films that the Rams were fading, he said, their pass defense giving up big plays, their overall fire on the wane. Wally Cruice had watched them lose miserably to Baltimore the week before.
On Sunday the temperature soared near ninety degrees on the floor of Memorial Coliseum, the Rams' massive, Roman-style stadium, which had been built for the 1932 Summer Olympic Games and could hold one hundred thousand fans, more than three times City Stadium's capacity. The Rams had built a winning tradition in California since moving west from Cleveland in 1946, playing in four NFL championship games and bringing home the title in 1951. Pro football was immensely popular in Los Angeles, the game-going habit so ingrained in so many fans that, even as this miserable season ended, sixty-one thousand spectators came out to see if their Rams could win and maybe save Gillman's job.
The year before, the Packers had warmed up for their California games in silence, steeling themselves for the beatings they knew lay ahead. Now they displayed a breezy confidence before the game. They marc
hed smartly through their calisthenics, helmets glistening in the sun as they performed jumping jacks and pushups while counting in unison, military-style. Then they broke into groups. Starr threw warm-up tosses to Knafelc. Kramer and Thurston stretched their legs. Hornung, always at home in California, ran light sprints and practiced kicks with a smile.
Gonna play big today, Paul.
Damn right.
Ray Nitschke started at middle linebacker instead of Tom Bettis, still limping on his twisted knee. Early in the first quarter Emlen Tunnell intercepted a pass at the Los Angeles 42. Starr went to work. On first down, he faked a handoff to Taylor and retreated as Max McGee ran a slant pattern across the middle. His pass was right on target for a twenty-seven-yard gain. Two plays later, pressured by a red-dog, Starr flipped to Taylor in the right flat when the fullback yelled that he was open. A linebacker sniffed out the play and came up to make a stop, but Hornung blocked him so hard that his legs flew straight up as Taylor raced past him and into the end zone. The Packers led, 7–0.
During their losing streak, the Rams had lacked the consistency to sustain long drives—they made too many mistakes. But they still had speed. Quarterback Billy Wade lobbed a ball far downfield for Del Shofner, running with Tunnell and John Symank. Shofner came down with the ball for a forty-yard gain. A few plays later Wade snuck over from the 1 for a touchdown, tying the score at 7–7.
The quick strike brought back memories of the 45–6 game, but the Ram defense had shut down the Packer offense that day, and things were different now. Lombardi had sat with Starr and carefully dissected the sagging defense during the week, proposing possible successful plays. Starr, after watching film, had his own ideas of what might work. He mentally flipped through his options, called plays, and watched them unfold just as Lombardi had drawn them on the blackboard.
That First Season: How Vince Lombardi Took the Worst Team in the NFL and Set It on the Path to Glory Page 26
