Mike from Franklin, WI
I've read this quote in an old newspaper story, and it seems to have stuck with you enough that you mentioned it in the "Legacy" documentary. Towards the end of Bart Starr's tenure as head coach, an unnamed player said playing for Starr was like "playing for the President of the United States." What does that quote mean to you? Does it speak more to things that Bart could control, like how he carried himself as coach? Or does it imply that his status as a Packers legend was always doomed to work against him?
Actually, I was the one who first printed that quote from an interview I did with a Packers player in 1979.
As background, that was Starr's fifth season as coach, and the Packers had just lost to the Minnesota Vikings in overtime to fall to 1-3. Starr's overall record as at that point was 22-39-1.
In that loss at outdoor Metropolitan Stadium on Sept. 23, 1979, the Packers took possession at their 25-yard line, following a Vikings' missed field goal, with the score tied at 21, a gusty wind at their back and 1:41 left to play in the fourth quarter. Rather than go for the win, Starr called for three consecutive running plays that netted three yards and led to a punt.
In other words, Starr ran out the clock on his own offense to take his chances in overtime. The decision backfired when six plays into OT, before the Packers ever got the ball back, the Vikings scored on a 50-yard touchdown pass.
Not only was Starr panned by fans and in the press, but I also soon learned his decision had led to a tumultuous locker room scene, including a shouting match between Starr and star receiver James Lofton. Other players were clearly upset, as well.
Thus, my bosses at the Green Bay Press-Gazette at the time gave me the entire week to interview Packers players and coaches, along with front office executives around the league, and to write a longball, two-part series on Starr's coaching, his decisions as general manager and the state of the team.
The exact quote from a Packers starter, as I published it in the Sept. 30, 1979, Press-Gazette, read as follows: "I think sometimes he's (Starr) too smooth, too polished. I wish he'd expose himself more so we could see the other side. Sometimes you feel like you're playing football for the president of the United States."
That quote in its entirety serves as a good starting point in my attempt to answer your question.
Football is an emotional game and Starr was unable to stir the emotions of his players as head coach. They respected him for all of his other honorable qualities and what he had accomplished as a player, but his teams often lacked fire and players repeatedly failed to produce for him.
That certainly didn't apply to everyone and not all of Starr's players second-guessed him even for his decision that day at the old Met, but some took it as a slap in the face and an example as to why they weren't winning.
As one player told me that week, "That was the ultimate admission that he didn't have any confidence in the offense. … He doesn't have any confidence in Chester (Marcol) to kick a field goal. He doesn't have any confidence in (quarterback David) Whitehurst."
As I further explained in my story back then, based on my efforts to get the pulse of the locker room, Starr's unflappable demeanor was perhaps the underlying reason why his teams were 3-29-1 at that point against opponents with a .500 or better record.
"You read about in the old days how players wanted to go out and win for (Vince) Lombardi," a player told me. "And in college, I know, I wanted to go out and win for my college coach. But that's not the case now. I respect him, but there isn't that feeling that you want to go out and win for coach Starr."
The conclusion I drew in my story was this: "Some of the players wish Starr would unveil himself more. They don't want him to be buddy-buddy with them, but they wish he'd show that he shares more in their joys, their anxieties, their failures."
More than four years later after Starr was fired with a nine-year record of 52-76-3, including 13-47-1 against teams that finished with a winning record, my bosses at the Press-Gazette again gave me upwards of two weeks or more to write another in-depth article that ran with the headline: "Bart Starr: Why Did He Fail?"
After all, that was not expected by the fans who had clamored for his hiring in 1975 as coach and general manager, fully believing he would be the savior of the franchise after seven years of Phil Bengtson and Dan Devine.
The answers I got then and the conclusions I drew for that article were pretty much the same as in 1979. My reporting on that story included a lengthy and insightful interview with Starr at his home. And what was so puzzling to me was that it seemed like Starr was no less respected by his players than he was by his teammates in the Lombardi years.
What's more, as badly as things had gone, Starr had never lost his team.
In the end, I decided the best way to explain his failure as a coach was to resurrect the following quotes from Lombardi and how they might have contributed to Starr becoming a great quarterback but failed him as a head coach.
"Tense by nature because he's a perfectionist. I've never seen him display emotion outside of nervousness."
"You never heard him in the locker room telling I stories."
"He's just a gentleman. You don't criticize him in front of others. When I came here, he lacked confidence and support."
"He still lacks daring and he's not as creative as I'd like him to be, but a great student of the game."
Here were the echoes I heard from his players in 1983.
That Starr had been too impassive and buttoned-down to relate to many of them, especially linemen and those who played defense. He rarely spoke from the heart and instead would quote famous people like Rudyard Kipling and Teddy Roosevelt in his speeches to his team.
By being overly sensitive to criticism, Starr was easily distracted and frequently engaged in verbal spats, particularly with the media, when he should have been focusing on game preparation.
Not until Starr hired Bob Schnelker as offensive coordinator in 1982 was there much imagination behind the game plans or risk-taking in executing them.
In the years since I wrote those stories, I've conducted in-depth interviews with more than 30 players and coaches from the Lombardi years, focusing primarily on the strengths and weaknesses of players and the roles they played on and off the field.
The conclusion I've drawn was that Starr was the unquestioned, on-the-field leader of the offense once he established himself as the starting quarterback in 1960 and as well respected by teammates as anyone on those Lombardi teams.
He was calm under pressure, always in control in the huddle. And his teammates never doubted going into a game that he had mastered Lombardi's game plan and had exhaustively studied film of the opposing defense.
They had full confidence that he'd call the right plays in the huddle and if the defense posed a different look than he expected, he'd audible out of his own call and into a better play.
Back when quarterbacks called their own plays, Starr's pre-game preparation gave the Packers a huge edge, if for no other reason than that they almost never ran a bad play into the teeth of a defense.
Lombardi was a big believer that come game day, nothing was more important than fielding a team fully confident of victory. And having Starr under center helped instill that confidence.
Beyond that, Starr was also widely admired for his will to win and mental toughness.
But, based on my interviews, the Packers' charismatic and inspirational leader both on the field and off the field was Paul Hornung.
Most of the players, I believe including Starr, viewed Hornung as their one individual star, a player so physically talented that he could be counted on to make big plays in big games – even take over games as he did in the 1961 NFL championship, the 1965 late-season win-or-be eliminated victory over the Baltimore Colts and the 1965 NFL title game.
What's more, Hornung's infectious swagger and confidence rubbed off on the others, thereby creating an all-embracing state of mind that was hard for opponents to beat. At the same time, Hornung was an optimum team player, even to the point where he'd all but invite Lombardi's wrath so his teammates wouldn't have to endure it.
With Lombardi as a coach, there were constant moments that cried for humor or anything that might lighten the emotional strain of one of his outbursts. Hornung, along with Max McGee, were the perfect foils.
As I've written here before, I believe that was why Lombardi ordered Hornung, who was working in 1967 as both an announcer and part-time assistant coach with New Orleans, to come to Green Bay and be on the sidelines for the Ice Bowl.
Six weeks into that season, after a 10-7 loss to Minnesota, Lombardi told The Milwaukee Journal that the biggest problem with that year's Packers was the absence of Hornung's leadership. The Saints had gained Hornung's rights in the expansion draft following the 1966 season.
"We've lacked the people to carry us," Lombardi told the Journal. "I don't mean we lack talent. It's not that. It's the spirit that Paul Hornung used to supply. That's where we miss him most because he somehow had the knack of lifting the whole ball club."
As you almost certainly know, those 1967 Packers included two future NFL head coaches with at least 11 years of experience as NFL players – Starr and Forrest Gregg – and a third future head coach with eight years of experience as a player if you count Willie Wood's stint with Toronto in the Canadian Football League.
In addition, the Packers' team captains were two highly respected 10-year veterans, tackle Bob Skoronski and defensive end Willie Davis.
Yet, in the eyes of Lombardi, those Packers who would go on to become the NFL's first three-time champions under a playoff format, lacked leadership without Hornung.
Lou from Kohler, WI
I posted this at a Packers website in response to an article on William Henderson. I believe my info is correct. When I was a kid the run was the norm and even in Lombardi's first season they had two halfbacks (Hornung and Lew Carpenter) and Jim Taylor at fullback. About a third into that season Lombardi removed one halfback and replaced the position with a "flanker," rookie Boyd Dowler. There were many Henderson types: Rick Casares, John Henry Johnson, Nick Pietrosante, Joe Marconi, etc., and they contributed like Henderson as lead blockers, ball carriers and catching screen passes. Now the 49ers are basically the only team to utilize a fullback and to my surprise they still select a Pro Bowl fullback. Also, from a trivia point in reference to Dowler, he was the first rookie to start on a Lombardi team.
Lou, yes, you are correct, although I'll offer some additional detail. Dowler took over as the starter in the seventh game in 1959. He was listed as a right halfback on the official scoresheets as I recall but lined up as a flanker.
Actually, Carpenter started the season opener at right halfback, then Don McIlhenny started games 2-6 there. McIlhenny had been acquired from Detroit in 1957 in the Tobin Rote trade and led the Packers in rushing that year with 384 yards. Carpenter started games 3-5 at fullback for Jim Taylor, who was sidelined with burns from a kitchen incident.
Also, Tim Brown was a fourth halfback on the opening day roster. He was cut after one game and replaced by Bill Butler, who had spent a month in the Packers' training camp as a defensive back. Switched to offensive halfback when he was re-signed, Butler was used primarily as a kick returner. He finished the season with only seven rushing attempts and one pass reception.
As you stated, fullbacks today are almost strictly blockers. When Henderson played from 1995-2006, it was more of a transitional period. He was an asset as a blocker but also as a receiver. He caught 320 passes. On the other hand, he rushed for only 426 yards in 12 seasons.
Johnson started out as a left halfback with San Francisco in 1954 and twice rushed for more than 1,000 yards in his mid-30s as a fullback for Pittsburgh. A rookie in 1959, Pietrosante led Detroit in rushing and also in four of his first six seasons. And Casares led the Chicago Bears in rushing from 1956-60 and then Marconi, after the Bears acquired him in a trade from the Los Angeles Rams, led them in rushing in 1962 and their 1963 NFL championship season. In fact, Casares led the NFL in rushing in 1956, his second season, with 1,126 yards.
Again, as I'm sure you know, fullbacks were the workhorses back then in terms of the running game and that was never the case with Henderson. From 1950-56, the pre-Jim Brown years, six different fullbacks led the NFL in rushing. Then Brown, a fullback, led in eight of the next nine years.
Even in Green Bay, Lombardi built his offense around the left halfback, yet Taylor as the fullback got the bulk of the carries. And some of that might have had to do with Lombardi believing Hornung was the better blocker of the two.
Chuck from Richfield, WI
The Broncos-Patriots AFC championship triggered a recollection that my father talked about. I bet you're familiar with it. My dad was in Madison during the blizzard of 1950, but the student union had the Ohio State-Michigan game on. Both teams combined to punt 45 times – often on first down – in a snowstorm for the right to go to the Rose Bowl. I love your history articles and thought you'd enjoy the tie in and similar score.
Pre-Ice Bowl that might have been the most written about and talked about bad-weather football game ever. It took place Nov. 25, 1950, in Columbus and was commonly referred to as the "Snow Bowl" or "Blizzard Bowl."
The game was played in 10-degree weather with wind gusts reported in excess of 35 miles per hour. The entire game was played in a blinding blizzard with a reported 7½ inches of snow falling and covering the field. Zero was the reported visibility.
Not surprisingly, strange things happened on the field that day.
Michigan won 9-3 and didn't pick up a single first down. The two teams combined for 45 punts. Ohio State had four punts blocked; Michigan, one. The Wolverines gained only 27 total yards. They were 0 of 9 passing in the first half and didn't throw the ball in the second half. The Buckeyes completed three of 18 passes.
How did Michigan win?
On two blocked punts: one for a safety when the ball rolled across the end zone and out of bounds, and the other for a touchdown when the ball rolled into the end zone and a Michigan player fell on it.
What also made it memorable was that it was one of the tightest Big Ten races in history.
Going into the final weekend, four teams were still in contention for the conference title, but Illinois had the inside track on the Rose Bowl bid. It also was the highest-ranked team at No. 5 in the AP poll and needed only to beat Northwestern to earn a trip to Pasadena.
Ohio State, with a 5-1 record in what was then a nine-team conference, was a half-game ahead of 4-1 Illinois but was ineligible for the Rose Bowl having gone the year before and also had lost to the Illini the week before. Michigan was in third place at 3-1-1 with Wisconsin fourth at 4-2.
Still, the Badgers went into the weekend with a realistic shot at earning the Rose Bowl bid. It needed to beat Minnesota, and have both Illinois and Michigan lose.
Michigan State, which would finish 8-1 with three victories over Big Ten schools, including Michigan, had been accepted as a conference member but effective in 1953.
By beating Ohio State, Michigan won the conference with a 4-1-1 record. The Badgers, who beat Minnesota on a frigid day but dry field at Camp Randall, tied Ohio State for second at 5-2. Illinois was upset by Northwestern and finished 4-2.
One last note: three players with Wisconsin ties factored into Michigan emerging as Big Ten champs.
Wolverines tackle Tom Johnson, who would be drafted by the Packers two years later and become one of their first Black players, was credited, along with his fellow tackle, for blocking the punt that led to the safety. Michigan's star back Chuck Ortmann, a former high school standout at Milwaukee East Division, was viewed as the game's MVP for consistently out-punting his counterpart. And Rich Athan, a product of Sheboygan North, scored Northwestern's first touchdown and was its workhorse with 21 carries for 63 yards in depriving Illinois of the title.
