All Hail the Pros: Football in the '60s and '70s
By Jim Murray. Excerpt from the book 'Neil Leifer, Guts and Glory: The Golden Age of American Football, 1958-1978'
Page [1] [2] [3]
"I came to Los Angeles in 1944 (the smog and I hit town together and neither one of us has been run out despite the best efforts of public-spirited citizens)…" wrote journalist Jim Murray in his 1961 debut in the Los Angeles Times. From 1961 to 1998 he wrote over 10,000 columns for the newspaper's sports section. Selections from several, including this introduction to the sportshungry citizens of Los Angeles, are excerpted here.
There are five things in this world that, it is widely believed, only a handful of people have ever completely understood—Einstein's Theory of Relativity, the American Electoral College system of balloting, the writings of James Joyce, the operas of Richard Wagner and the tiebreaking procedures of the National Football League. Jonathan Winters drew them up. Inspired by a drawing of Rube Goldberg. Something out of the Brothers Grimm. Or the script of a Tom and Jerry cartoon. ["Maybe They Could Award Points for Creative Spiking," December 11, 1979]
I have been urged by my friends—all of whom mean well—to begin writing in this space without introducing myself, as if I have been standing here all the while only you haven't noticed. But I don't think I'll do that. I think I'll start off by telling you a little about myself and what I believe in. That way, we can start to fight right away. First off, I am against the bunt in baseball—unless they start batting against the ball John McGraw batted against. The last time the bunt won a game, Frank Chance was a rookie.
I think the eight-point touchdown has had it. It's added nothing to the game unless, of course, you count the extra bookkeeping. I'm glad the Rams traded Billy Wade. I won't say Billy was clumsy, but on the way back from the line of scrimmage with the ball he bumped into more people than a New York pickpocket. I have seen blockers make ballcarriers look bad. Wade was the only ball-carrier I ever saw make the blockers look bad. Those poor guys were getting cross-eyed trying to look for him out of both corners of their eyes. They never knew which way he went. The play usually ended with some mastodon of a defensive end holding Billy upside down by the heels and shaking him, like a father with a kid who's just swallowed a quarter. Billy gave up more ground, faster, than Mussolini at the end of the war. The Chicago Bears better put his shoes on backward or he'll dance right out of that little ball park of theirs. I expect him to be the only quarterback ever tackled for a loss in the seats.… ["Let's Dot Some 'I's," February 12, 1961]
If you saw Vince Lombardi in a crowd of truck drivers and were asked to guess his occupation, the next to last thing you'd pick would be football coach. But that's all right, because you'd NEVER guess he was a Latin teacher. Vince Lombardi looks as if he should be climbing down from behind the wheel of a six-wheeled semi and saying,"Okay, lady, where do you want the piano?" Or he should be down on the waterfront with a longshoreman's gaff unloading olive oil. The face is swart and strong. The eyes are friendly but wary. This is a city boy who has been offered the Brooklyn Bridge before. It is not the face of a pedagogue. It is hard to imagine it in front of a blackboard teaching, "Hic, Haec, Hoc," the fact that "to, of, with, by, from, since" and "toward" always take the dative and the fact that all Gaul is divided in three parts. But Vince Lombardi also taught physics. And the last guy who dug both physics and Latin was Leonardo Da Vinci and he wouldn't know an inside-right counter play from a zone defense or a buttonhook pattern.…
Page [1] [2] [3]
Page [1] [2] [3]
"I came to Los Angeles in 1944 (the smog and I hit town together and neither one of us has been run out despite the best efforts of public-spirited citizens)…" wrote journalist Jim Murray in his 1961 debut in the Los Angeles Times. From 1961 to 1998 he wrote over 10,000 columns for the newspaper's sports section. Selections from several, including this introduction to the sportshungry citizens of Los Angeles, are excerpted here.
There are five things in this world that, it is widely believed, only a handful of people have ever completely understood—Einstein's Theory of Relativity, the American Electoral College system of balloting, the writings of James Joyce, the operas of Richard Wagner and the tiebreaking procedures of the National Football League. Jonathan Winters drew them up. Inspired by a drawing of Rube Goldberg. Something out of the Brothers Grimm. Or the script of a Tom and Jerry cartoon. ["Maybe They Could Award Points for Creative Spiking," December 11, 1979]
I have been urged by my friends—all of whom mean well—to begin writing in this space without introducing myself, as if I have been standing here all the while only you haven't noticed. But I don't think I'll do that. I think I'll start off by telling you a little about myself and what I believe in. That way, we can start to fight right away. First off, I am against the bunt in baseball—unless they start batting against the ball John McGraw batted against. The last time the bunt won a game, Frank Chance was a rookie.
I think the eight-point touchdown has had it. It's added nothing to the game unless, of course, you count the extra bookkeeping. I'm glad the Rams traded Billy Wade. I won't say Billy was clumsy, but on the way back from the line of scrimmage with the ball he bumped into more people than a New York pickpocket. I have seen blockers make ballcarriers look bad. Wade was the only ball-carrier I ever saw make the blockers look bad. Those poor guys were getting cross-eyed trying to look for him out of both corners of their eyes. They never knew which way he went. The play usually ended with some mastodon of a defensive end holding Billy upside down by the heels and shaking him, like a father with a kid who's just swallowed a quarter. Billy gave up more ground, faster, than Mussolini at the end of the war. The Chicago Bears better put his shoes on backward or he'll dance right out of that little ball park of theirs. I expect him to be the only quarterback ever tackled for a loss in the seats.… ["Let's Dot Some 'I's," February 12, 1961]
If you saw Vince Lombardi in a crowd of truck drivers and were asked to guess his occupation, the next to last thing you'd pick would be football coach. But that's all right, because you'd NEVER guess he was a Latin teacher. Vince Lombardi looks as if he should be climbing down from behind the wheel of a six-wheeled semi and saying,"Okay, lady, where do you want the piano?" Or he should be down on the waterfront with a longshoreman's gaff unloading olive oil. The face is swart and strong. The eyes are friendly but wary. This is a city boy who has been offered the Brooklyn Bridge before. It is not the face of a pedagogue. It is hard to imagine it in front of a blackboard teaching, "Hic, Haec, Hoc," the fact that "to, of, with, by, from, since" and "toward" always take the dative and the fact that all Gaul is divided in three parts. But Vince Lombardi also taught physics. And the last guy who dug both physics and Latin was Leonardo Da Vinci and he wouldn't know an inside-right counter play from a zone defense or a buttonhook pattern.…
Page [1] [2] [3]
Guts and Glory: The Golden Age of American Football, 1958-1978
Hardcover, slipcase, 39.6 x 33 cm (15.6 x 13 in.), 350 pages
$ 500.00
$ 500.00
The best of sports photographer Neil Leifer's 10,000 rolls of football pictures, including hundreds of rare and unpublished images. Limited to 1,500 copies, each numbered and signed by Neil Leifer.
Kicking It Down the Field: Super Bowl I, Packers 35, Chiefs 10, Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, January 15, 1967. Photo: Neil Leifer
Too Little, Too Late: Super Bowl III, Jets 16, Colts 7, Orange Bowl, January 12, 1969. Photo: Neil Leifer