That Could Never Happen In Today’s NFL
I find the history of the NFL fascinating. It’s the people that filled and made that history. It’s the happenings between the games. And it’s definitely the games. One of the many things about the league’s history that fascinates me is the number of things that happened back then that could never happen now. These aren’t things that have been legislated out of the game like the “tuck rule,” the clothes-line tackle, and mass-momentum plays. Oh wait, the Philadelphia Eagles are somehow being allowed to do that last one. These are things that could only have happened in simpler times. For example, in the 1970s, Washington Redskins head coach George Allen had a tremendous aversion to and distrust of rookies. His feelings against the youngsters were so strong that he traded away many of his team’s draft picks for veteran players, often very seasoned veteran players. He traded so many draft picks that he even traded some of the picks more than once. Come draft day, multiple teams were on the clock for the same pick. That would never happen today. The draft order, and which team owns each pick, is well known and well documented. There’s no way today that some maniac could trade a draft pick more than once. I recently came across another bit of league history that could never happen today while reading When The Colts Belonged To Baltimore by William Gildea. It involved Y.A. Tittle, Bill “Tiger” Johnson, and an official in a game between the San Francisco 49ers and the Chicago Bears.
In the words of former 49ers quarterback Y.A. Tittle as told to William Gildea:
“Here’s another common, little ol’ anecdote,” he related a few minutes into our conversation, speaking animatedly with those thick hands. On October 13, 1957, the 49ers were playing the Bears at Chicago’s Wrigley Field. The clock was running out, and the 49ers had just been pushed back from scoring position by a fifteen-yard penalty against an assistant coach, Tiger Johnson, for berating the officials. “I’ve known Tiger all my life,” recounted Tittle. “Played against him in junior high school. Played against him three years in high school when he was at Tyler and I was at Marshall. Played against him when I was with Baltimore and he was in San Francisco. Then we became teammates on the 49ers for six years. Then he was my coach for three years — my head offensive coordinator. Now the referee says Tiger’s calling the officials all these filthy names. I say to the referee, ‘I don’t know who that big son-a-b*tch is, I never seen him before.’ The referee says, ‘You mean that’s not one of your coaches? What’s he doin’ on the sideline?’ I said, ‘I don’t know, but I don’t know that guy.’ So he goes over to Albert — Frank’s our head coach, and he’d heard us arguing — and he asks Frank, ‘Who is this guy?’ Frank says, ‘I don’t know who that drunk son-a-b*tch is, get him out of here, he’s been annoyin’ the hell out of us.’ So two policemen took ol Tiger out of Wrigley Field, and the referee gave me my fifteen yards back. He walked them back, the fifteen yards! Those yards were important and I wanted ‘em. But Tiger was really upset, he was almost fighting with the policemen. He was so mad, and they kicked him out of the whole Wrigley Field. R.C. Owens won the game with a catch on his knees in the end zone with twenty-seven seconds left. And so, man, we were happy. Meantime, Tiger had talked his way back into the locker room and he’s sitting there and we’re all celebrating and cheering R.C.’s great catch. Tiger says, ‘Don’t touch me.’ I went over and hugged him. He says, ‘Don’t put your hands on me.’ He says, ‘I centered that ball to you all those years. I can’t see out of my left eye from a forearm I took blocking for you. I can’t move on my left knee — I’ve had three operations blocking for you. But I’m not worth a fifteen-yard penalty, that’s what you think of me.’ ‘No Tiger…’”
That could never happen in today’s NFL.
A couple decades after that 1957 49ers-Bears game, Bill “Tiger” Johnson was in the middle of a decision that would change the league. From 1968-75, Johnson and Bill Walsh were assistant coaches for Paul Brown with the Cincinnati Bengals. Johnson coached the offensive line. Walsh was essentially the offensive coordinator. He didn’t have the title as there’s no way a coach other than Paul Brown is calling the offensive shots for a team coached by Paul Brown. After the 1975 season, Brown decided to step away from the sideline and run the team from the front office. He surprised everyone when he tapped Johnson to replace him as head coach of the Bengals. The most surprised, and hurt, was Walsh. It was a hurt that never eased. Brown wanted Walsh to stay on as offensive coordinator but Walsh couldn’t accept the snub. He bolted to the west coast and a couple years later was named the head coach of the San Francisco 49ers. If Brown had made the right decision in 1976, the dynasty that Walsh created in San Francisco might’ve been created in Cincinnati. Ken Anderson might’ve become what Joe Montana was. It’s a whole different NFL history if Brown had tapped the more deserving Walsh rather than Tiger in 1976.
Neither of these historic anecdotes should be considered a condemnation of Bill “Tiger” Johnson. He was a terrific football player and coach. It just happens to be that his most notable, or humorous, moments weren’t necessarily his best moments.
In the words of former 49ers quarterback Y.A. Tittle as told to William Gildea:
“Here’s another common, little ol’ anecdote,” he related a few minutes into our conversation, speaking animatedly with those thick hands. On October 13, 1957, the 49ers were playing the Bears at Chicago’s Wrigley Field. The clock was running out, and the 49ers had just been pushed back from scoring position by a fifteen-yard penalty against an assistant coach, Tiger Johnson, for berating the officials. “I’ve known Tiger all my life,” recounted Tittle. “Played against him in junior high school. Played against him three years in high school when he was at Tyler and I was at Marshall. Played against him when I was with Baltimore and he was in San Francisco. Then we became teammates on the 49ers for six years. Then he was my coach for three years — my head offensive coordinator. Now the referee says Tiger’s calling the officials all these filthy names. I say to the referee, ‘I don’t know who that big son-a-b*tch is, I never seen him before.’ The referee says, ‘You mean that’s not one of your coaches? What’s he doin’ on the sideline?’ I said, ‘I don’t know, but I don’t know that guy.’ So he goes over to Albert — Frank’s our head coach, and he’d heard us arguing — and he asks Frank, ‘Who is this guy?’ Frank says, ‘I don’t know who that drunk son-a-b*tch is, get him out of here, he’s been annoyin’ the hell out of us.’ So two policemen took ol Tiger out of Wrigley Field, and the referee gave me my fifteen yards back. He walked them back, the fifteen yards! Those yards were important and I wanted ‘em. But Tiger was really upset, he was almost fighting with the policemen. He was so mad, and they kicked him out of the whole Wrigley Field. R.C. Owens won the game with a catch on his knees in the end zone with twenty-seven seconds left. And so, man, we were happy. Meantime, Tiger had talked his way back into the locker room and he’s sitting there and we’re all celebrating and cheering R.C.’s great catch. Tiger says, ‘Don’t touch me.’ I went over and hugged him. He says, ‘Don’t put your hands on me.’ He says, ‘I centered that ball to you all those years. I can’t see out of my left eye from a forearm I took blocking for you. I can’t move on my left knee — I’ve had three operations blocking for you. But I’m not worth a fifteen-yard penalty, that’s what you think of me.’ ‘No Tiger…’”
That could never happen in today’s NFL.
A couple decades after that 1957 49ers-Bears game, Bill “Tiger” Johnson was in the middle of a decision that would change the league. From 1968-75, Johnson and Bill Walsh were assistant coaches for Paul Brown with the Cincinnati Bengals. Johnson coached the offensive line. Walsh was essentially the offensive coordinator. He didn’t have the title as there’s no way a coach other than Paul Brown is calling the offensive shots for a team coached by Paul Brown. After the 1975 season, Brown decided to step away from the sideline and run the team from the front office. He surprised everyone when he tapped Johnson to replace him as head coach of the Bengals. The most surprised, and hurt, was Walsh. It was a hurt that never eased. Brown wanted Walsh to stay on as offensive coordinator but Walsh couldn’t accept the snub. He bolted to the west coast and a couple years later was named the head coach of the San Francisco 49ers. If Brown had made the right decision in 1976, the dynasty that Walsh created in San Francisco might’ve been created in Cincinnati. Ken Anderson might’ve become what Joe Montana was. It’s a whole different NFL history if Brown had tapped the more deserving Walsh rather than Tiger in 1976.
Neither of these historic anecdotes should be considered a condemnation of Bill “Tiger” Johnson. He was a terrific football player and coach. It just happens to be that his most notable, or humorous, moments weren’t necessarily his best moments.
