The '63 Steelers Read online

  With the Cards facing second-and-5 from their 25, Michaels stuffed Childress for no gain. Then, on third down, Cordileone, ferocious while rushing the passer but otherwise “always with a grin splitting his puss,” crashed through and dumped Johnson for a 10-yard loss.33

  Keys returned Stovall’s punt 5 yards to the Steeler 44, and then Hoak and Ferguson began crunching up yardage. Ferguson, “with two men on his back, bulled for 11 yards” to the Cardinal 36.34 After Hoak gained 3 yards, Ferguson picked up 8 for a first down at the 25. On second-and-9, Dial made “the picture play of the game.”35 Lined up on the right, he made a deep cut across the middle, then leaped, snagged the ball, and landed on his head with the ball secured in his right arm for a 16-yard catch that put Pittsburgh on the 8.

  Hoak picked up 2 yards. On second down Robb dumped Brown at the 15 but the defensive end was flagged for being offside, giving the Steelers first-and-goal at the 3. Cardinal assistant coach Chuck Drulis, the man who helped pioneer the safety blitz with Wilson, later called the penalty the turning point of the game. Hoak went off right tackle for 2 yards and then, behind “a punishing block” by Ferguson, rammed into the end zone to put the Steelers ahead, 13–10, with seven minutes left.36

  Paremore’s rookie troubles continued. After the kickoff, he was the twelfth man when the Cards were penalized for having too many men on the field, backing them up at their 10. On the other side of the ball, the kid from Missouri who had wanted no part of a professional football career was looking like a veteran. He held Triplett to a gain of 1, and after Cordileone and Baker dropped Johnson for a 6-yard loss at the 5, Russell held Triplett to a 6-yard reception on third-and-19. Stovall’s 34-yard punt set up the Steelers on the St. Louis 45 with 4:36 left in the game.

  Hoak and Ferguson got some hard-earned yardage, but a holding call set them back to the Cardinal 48. Dial gained 20 yards with a catch down the right sideline, and Hoak went around right end for 12 yards, setting up Michaels for a 21-yard field goal to make it 16–10 with a minute and forty-five seconds remaining, still plenty of time for a quarterback of Johnson’s caliber to drive down the field.

  Michaels boomed the kickoff into the end zone. Johnson dropped back on first down from the 20, only to have Cordileone hit his arm and cause a fumble. Michaels, “up to his 18-inch neck in practically every defensive play,” recovered on the 12.37

  Ferguson, “using his 220 pounds like a demolition expert uses a headache ball,” picked up 6, 2, and the final 4 yards for the touchdown that sealed the 23–10 victory with fifty-five seconds to go.38 In only a quarter and a half of play, Ferguson had gained 58 yards on thirteen carries, and Hoak got 85—as usual, the hard way—on twenty-five carries.

  The only drama left in the final minute was when one of the “Larrupin’ Lous”—Michaels—got in an altercation with Ernie McMillan after hitting the Cards’ six-foot-six, 255-pound tackle in the jaw with a forearm. Michaels insisted the blow was legal. “What can you do on defense if you can’t hit a guy with your forearm?” he protested.39

  Informed by a sportswriter that Michaels had accused McMillan of slugging the Steeler lineman, the Cardinal tackle barked, “He was the one who was slugging. I was only defending myself.”40

  Both players were thrown out of the game, an automatic $100 fine. Slugging it out with an offensive tackle didn’t worry Michaels, but the prospect of explaining the deduction in his paycheck to his mother did. “She’s going to be awfully mad when she gets my check,” he said. “She’s going to want to know how come I’m punching somebody when it costs a hundred bucks.”41 Worse yet, it looked as if it could mean a week without a shipment of Mom’s kielbasa.

  The Steelers had witnessed two developments on this day to boost their optimism: the play of Ferguson and Russell. Ferguson looked as if he were grinding out yardage for Ohio State again. Russell was tested often but withstood the pressure and, with Reger out, “proved a fine replacement.”42 With all his superstitions, Parker was not about to tamper with success, even if it meant keeping a rookie in the lineup. “If we won or tied, he wasn’t going to change the group,” Russell said years later.43

  A 2–0–1 record was a modest accomplishment measured against the Steelers’ ultimate goal, but it wasn’t just the best start in Parker’s seven years in Pittsburgh; it was the first time the franchise had gone unbeaten after three games since the team went 1–0–2 in the first three weeks in 1940. The only better start came in 1936, the only year the Steelers won their first three games. If Michaels had made one more extra point in the opener, the ’63 squad would have been 3–0. Steelers fans had every right to believe that this might be a special year, unless more bad breaks awaited them—like a lingering injury to a key player like John Henry Johnson.

  No matter that it was only September, commented Press sportswriter Pat Livingston. “Whether the players, or Coach Buddy Parker, like it or not, the Steelers must be regarded as serious contenders today.” It wasn’t a pretty victory; it was a typical meat grinder of a Steeler game. “You can’t look good against those unorthodox defenses,” Parker said. “They make anybody look bad.”44

  The Cardinals grumbled about the officiating and were as grudging in their praise of Pittsburgh as they had been stingy on defense. “Sarcasm and bitterness hung like musty ornaments in the rancid St. Louis dressing room.” Lemm complained about a call in the first quarter when Hoak lost possession of the ball and Wilson picked it up and headed for the end zone, only to find that the officials had called the play dead. “There was no whistle,” the coach said.45

  Johnson wound up fifteen of twenty-eight for 198 yards, but his three interceptions hurt the team. “Charley Johnson was way off today,” Lemm said, “and this cost us the chance of winning.”46

  After Triplett’s touchdown run, the Steelers held St. Louis to a field goal over the next fifty-eight minutes and twenty-nine seconds, but Lemm was less than generous in his praise for his opponent. “We knew the Steeler defense was tough,” he said, “but they didn’t do anything that surprised us.”47

  Ernie Stautner had experienced a lifetime of losing in Pittsburgh and had seen some moments of promise, but this team was different. The spirit, he said, was the best in his fourteen years with the Steelers. The way the team hung on during the afternoon was as revealing to him as the final score. “It’s easy to go out there and rip when everything is going your way,” he said. “It’s something else to play your game when you’re behind for 50 minutes and then force them to crack.”48

  But the Cardinals had made an impression on the Steelers. “They’re tougher than the Giants,” said Pittsburgh guard Ron Stehouwer.49 And the Cards wouldn’t have to wait long for another crack at Parker’s team; in two weeks, the Steelers would travel to St. Louis for the rematch.

  Meanwhile, 150 miles to the west, the Cleveland Browns, with “the most productive attack in the National Football League,” relied on their defense to grind out a 20–6 victory over the Los Angeles Rams.50 The Browns sat atop the Eastern Conference at 3–0, but detractors were not overwhelmed with Cleveland’s wins, which included decisions over Washington and Dallas. The real test would come in six days, on a Saturday night, when the Steelers would travel to Municipal Stadium, on the shores of Lake Erie, with more than 80,000 fans howling wilder than the winds off Canada in January.

  GAME 4

  VERSUS CLEVELAND BROWNS

  AT CLEVELAND MUNICIPAL STADIUM

  OCTOBER 5

  It took only two exhibition games for the glow to fade from Buddy Parker’s big off-season trade in 1962.

  After trading a first-round draft pick to the Chicago Bears for thirty-three year-old quarterback Ed Brown on April 4, Parker hailed his acquisition as “one of the best quarterbacks in the league.” Brown was an ex-Marine, a two-time selection to the Pro Bowl, and “a whiz at finding receivers with deep passes.” More important, Brown was “a Parker-type quarterback.”1

  The incumbent Bobby Layne had taken a pounding over fourteen seasons,
so Parker not only brought in Brown as insurance but promised the nine-year veteran a shot at winning the starting job. “I know that I’m going to try like hell to win it,” Brown vowed before the start of training camp.2

  Brown got his chance on Saturday night, August 18, the second game on the 1962 preseason schedule, when the Steelers traveled to Cleveland to face the Browns in the second game of the NFL’s first doubleheader. Before a crowd of 77,683, the Steelers lost, 33–10, prompting Parker to criticize virtually the whole squad, but singling out one player. “I was especially dissatisfied with Ed Brown’s quarterbacking,” Parker said.3

  Brown didn’t win the starting job, but his strong performance at the end of the season when Layne was disabled helped validate Parker’s confidence in the heir apparent. Moreover, Brown’s showing made the coach feel more comfortable that the team would be OK without Layne, then the NFL record-holder for most touchdown passes, pass attempts, completions, and yards gained passing.

  The ugly sight of Layne getting booed, as well as injured, in the November 1962 victory over the Redskins had convinced Parker to talk his quarterback into retiring at season’s end.4 Not even a stark contrast in performances by the two quarterbacks in the so-called Runner-Up Bowl in January could dissuade Parker from his conviction that it was time for Layne to quit.

  Brown labored in the game, hitting five of twelve passes and throwing a costly interception that led to a Detroit touchdown just before halftime. Despite chants of “We want Layne!” in the stands, Parker held out the future Hall of Famer until halfway through the fourth quarter. It was Layne who put a scare into Detroit as he “pitched with his old-time skill” to rally the Steelers, even though his potential game-tying drive stalled at the Lions’ 21.5 Two days later, Parker admitted that he had “reluctantly suggested” that Layne retire. As for Brown, despite the unimpressive showing, Parker said that the ex-Bear “should be much better next year.”6

  Hall of Fame quarterback Sammy Baugh had watched as Layne broke Baugh’s records, and Slingin’ Sammy believed that his fellow Texan wasn’t ready for retirement. “He still has a good year left,” Baugh said at a gathering of the Touchdown Club of Columbus, Ohio, weeks after Parker was ushering Layne out.7

  But Parker had a close-up of how much pain Layne had endured. “No one really understood what Layne went through as a player,” the coach said years later. “It wasn’t publicized but he had bursitis in his throwing arm right on from college. I’ve seen him on the bench while our defense was on the field when he couldn’t raise his arm to his nose, but he would go back and win for us.” Parker had watched Layne get blasted—by both opponents and jaded fans, whom the coach felt confused an overthrown pass with the quarterback using his discretion to throw the ball away when under too much pressure. Not only did Layne have a remarkable tolerance for physical pain, but he had a skin thicker than an official Duke football. “Layne took more shots than anyone I know,” Parker said. “And he took more criticism.”8

  As training camp picked up in the summer of ’63, Parker began to regret his decision, and so he asked Layne’s friend and former roommate, Ernie Stautner, to approach Layne about coming back for one more year. Layne declined, citing other obligations.9

  In the preseason opener against the Packers, Brown had “a rather lame passing night,” leading Parker to promise that third-year quarterback Terry Nofsinger would see a lot of action against the Eagles the next week.10 On the first play from scrimmage, Nofsinger hit Red Mack with an 80-yard touchdown pass, but Brown “sparkled” in the 24–13 victory over Philly.11 A 17–14 loss to the Colts left Parker so dejected about the team, it’s a wonder he didn’t threaten to quit. “I am really disgusted,” he said.12

  The Steelers lost to the Lions three times in ’62—in preseason, the regular-season opener, and the Playoff Bowl—so even a 22–7 exhibition victory in Detroit at the end of August 1963 had to provide Parker with some personal satisfaction. The night was bittersweet, as the Lions honored Layne at halftime and retired his No. 22 jersey. Brown banged up his shoulder during the game, but X-rays were negative. In the preseason finale, a 16–7 victory over the Browns, Brown hit nine of seventeen passes for 155 yards. Any victory over Cleveland was sweet.

  Whether or not three victories reassured Parker that his offense was in capable hands, he was committed to Brown. Brown had a stronger arm and nearly as much NFL experience as his predecessor, but he was no Bobby Layne, and no one knew that better than Parker. “I think Buddy just recognized there was something lacking without Bobby,” Stautner said years later. “Buddy knew we had the players to make a run at the division, but we needed the take-charge guy in the driver’s seat. … Bobby had the extra something that made the difference in close games.”13

  The two quarterbacks were opposites in temperament. Layne was gregarious, brash, and charismatic. He would cuss out teammates for missing assignments and threaten opponents who played dirty—or he might take matters into his own hands. “You heard what he did to get Ed Sprinkle one year,” Lou Cordileone said. Sprinkle was a defensive end for the Bears from 1944 to 1955. He stood six foot one and weighed only 206 pounds, but he had a reputation as one of the roughest players in the league. Teammates and opponents knew him as “the Claw” for the way he snagged quarterbacks and runners, but his notoriety increased when Collier’s dubbed him “the Meanest Man in Pro Football” in 1950.14

  “This is the story I got, and I think it’s true,” Cordileone said. “He came in and hit Bobby when he shouldn’t have hit him. So, one or two plays later, Bobby tells the guys, ‘Let the guy in,’ and they let him in and he took the ball and he threw it right in his fuckin’ jaw and busted his whole face up. In those days they didn’t have face masks. Bobby was a competitor, boy, I’ll tell ya.”15

  Layne insisted that the only thing about him that was exaggerated more than his nighttime carousing was his reputation for losing his temper and chewing out his own receivers. “I have never once in my life got on a ballplayer for dropping a pass like a lot of people think,” he told Myron Cope in an interview. Yet in an article Layne coauthored with Murray Olderman four years earlier, the quarterback recalled how he reacted to rookie end Jimmy Orr, out of the University of Georgia, dropping a long pass in a 17–6 loss to the Giants. “When he came back to the huddle I told him, ‘If you drop another pass on me, you Georgia so-and-so, I’ll kill you with my own hands.’” Layne added, “I was only speaking figuratively, of course. Jimmy’s too good to do away with and he’s one of my best friends.”16

  Orr took no offense. “Bobby and I hit it along pretty good,” Orr said. “If you went out with him at night, he threw to you during the day.”17

  For Layne, the only thing that could compare to beating the clock with a game-winning drive was drinking the night away with a bunch of teammates at a hot nightspot with a swinging band. He would round up players, vets and rookies alike, blacks and whites, to make the party more fun and build camaraderie.

  “Bobby was our man,” Cordileone said.

  We used to get together and play poker every Thursday night at Bobby’s house. He and Ernie rented a house. We used to go over there—me, Bobby, John Henry Johnson, Charlie Bradshaw, once in a while Ernie would play. We’d have five or six guys and we’d sit there all night, till practice the next morning, and play. We used to order food from Dante’s, and you couldn’t imagine the food that came in there. It was unbelievable. We used to sit and eat and then we’d leave in the morning to go to practice, because the next day—the Friday practice—was very easy. It was just like forty-five minutes, and then we’d go home and that was it. That was the end of it until the game Sunday.18

  Except for Bobby Layne. For Layne, the week was just beginning.

  And when the QB from Lubbock spoke, on the field or off it, players listened. “When Bobby said block, you blocked. When Bobby said drink, you drank,” former Lions teammate Yale Lary said.19 Layne built his reputation on delivering in the clutch, and teammates and coache
s knew he was good for his word. “He’d get in a huddle, he’d get down on his knee, he’d say, ‘If you sunuvabitches block, we got a touchdown on this play.’ And you believed it,” said Preston Carpenter, who played tight end for the Steelers from 1960 to 1963. “He was a leader on the field and off the field.”20

  With a little over two minutes left in the 1953 championship game, two days after Christmas, Layne huddled his Detroit teammates with the ball on the Cleveland 33 and the Browns leading, 16–10. He asked receiver Jim Doran if he could beat his man and then called the play. “Okay, men. Let’s run a Nine Up … and block them sons of bitches for me.” Layne lobbed one of his characteristically wobbly passes to Doran for a 33-yard touchdown pass that gave Detroit a 17–16 win and coach Buddy Parker his second consecutive NFL title.21

  Brown could not compete with Layne in terms of personality, and he couldn’t match the Texan’s cachet on the playing field. Layne had led the Lions to two straight championships, lost a third, and pointed Detroit to another title before sustaining a season-ending injury. Brown had led the Bears to the title game in 1956, when they got whipped by the Giants, 47–7. Steeler teammates knew he had talent, but not everyone was convinced he had the intangibles Layne possessed.

  “Bobby Layne was like Bart Starr,” said wide receiver Red Mack, who played with both. “When he came in the huddle he could call a quarterback sneak on third down-and-15; nobody would question it. But if Ed Brown called it, you’d be saying, ‘Wait a minute. We can’t run that play.’ You knew when Bobby Layne got up to the line of scrimmage that he was going to come up with something that was going to get us 15 yards. You knew that.”22

  Mack got a harsh lesson from Layne one time about following orders from the quarterback. Layne called the play, and once the defense shifted, so did Mack. “They moved into a zone coverage, so I broke the pattern off,” he said. “I got back to the huddle, and Bobby Layne chewed my butt out. He told me, ‘I don’t care if you’ve got to run all the way to the shithouse. Complete the pattern.’ He was the kind of guy that knew it was going to be zone [coverage]. He was going to throw the ball to somebody else. He wasn’t going to throw it to me. We didn’t have that kind of confidence in Brown. At least I didn’t.”23