Q/A with author of new Manziel e-book: Challenges were somewhat significant

Johnny Football, aka Johnny Manziel, should help deliver Fox Sports a strong rating tonight for Texas A&M-Oklahoma in the Cotton Bowl.

The Heisman Trophy winner as a freshman is the hottest thing going in college football. People want to know more about him.

HarperCollins sought to get in on the hoopla with a new e-book: Johnny Football: Johnny Manziel’s Road from the Texas Hill Country to the top of College Football.

Written by Josh Katzowitz, the book is more like an extended 11,000-word profile. Priced at $1.99, it is designed to capitalize quickly on the interest surrounding Manziel.

In a Q/A, Katzowitz talks about the challenges of turning around the project with such a tight deadline, and what this type of e-book could mean for the future in publishing.

When did you receive this assignment and what were the challenges of doing such a book on short notice?

Let’s see. I got the first email from my editor, Adam Korn, on Nov. 15 about exploring the idea of writing an e-book on Manziel. I sent him my pitch Nov. 20, and I followed that with Chapters 2 and 3 on Dec. 5. I emailed him Chapters 4 and 5 two days after that, and then, after Manziel won the Heisman Trophy on Dec. 8, I had to turn in the first chapter/intro and the final chapter/epilogue two days after that. The challenges for me were somewhat significant. Since I cover the NFL for CBSSports.com, I didn’t pay extremely close attention to Manziel’s season. After I got the assignment, I spent about a week just researching and interviewing before I even wrote a word.

HarperCollins/William Morrow wanted 10,000-11,000 words for the e-book, so it wasn’t a ton of writing. But with the research and the interviewing and the dictating and the re-reading and the editing and everything else that goes into writing a book – aside from just the plain old writing – it was certainly a time crunch. The funny thing is: in my two previous books, I was a little bit late getting my book to the publisher. On this one, I nailed the deadline.

What kind of access did you get from Manziel, his family, Texas A&M coaches?

My access to Manziel was pretty much what everybody else got. Not much, because of A&M coach Kevin Sumlin’s rule about freshmen not talking to the media. Nobody could get him until after A&M’s regular season was complete. Then, it was teleconferences and pre-Heisman press conferences. ESPN obviously got some additional time with him for the Heisman ceremony, but by the time I could have gotten any extra time with him, most of the book was done anyway. I did drive to College Station-Bryan, Texas and spent part of an evening with Johnny’s mother and sister. Despite the media crush they were experiencing (just by being related to Manziel), they were very accommodating.

What kind of behind-the-scenes access did you get during Heisman presentation?

It was tough, if not impossible, to get any one-on-one time with Manziel, but watching the way he dealt with the media and the way he carried himself during this process was really impressive. Plus, I did the typical “reporter who’s desperate for color walks slowly behind the subject praying for something to leap out at him after the final press conference” move, and with the A&M fans screaming at from the floor above him at the Marriott Marquis, I got the final scene of the book. Behind-the-scenes stuff during the Heisman weekend isn’t much different than a pregame MLB clubhouse, in that there’s not a ton of news, but sometimes, you stumble onto something noteworthy.

What were able to learn about Manziel? Any surprises?

I found out some great information about his very colorful family history. Even though his great-great uncle, Bobby Manziel, came to this country without much money, he became sparring partners and friends with Jack Dempsey, and they struck it rich together discovering oil in east Texas. The Manziel’s basically ran the town of Tyler, Texas, and some people think they still do (and those people might be right). As far as I can tell, none of that history was written about during this year of Manziel hype. I enjoy leafing through newspapers of the 1950s and finding out info like this, so for me, that was one of the most rewarding experiences I had during this project.

How tough is it to do a biography on someone who is so young?

It would have been tough if I had to write 100,000 words on a 19-year-old who’d been in the national spotlight for only about three months. But I didn’t have to write that long, so together with his family history, the discussion about why Manziel is perfect for the A&M offense, the highest of the highlights of the 2012 season, and what Manziel’s family was going through at the time, I ended up writing too many words and having to cut. But if I can compare it to the music industry, I wasn’t releasing a 12-song album with this book. Instead, I was releasing a single for the radio. If I had to write a full LP about Manziel, it would have been tough to accomplish.

Anything else?

This was my first experience writing an e-book, and I’m interested to see if they really are the wave of the future for the book publishing industry. It’s hard to imagine the print products dying out completely, leaving us all holding our Kindles and Nooks. But that uncertainty is also what’s kind of cool about working in the media landscape today. I always thought it would have been awesome to have lived in the 1940s, worked for a big-time paper and competed in the real newspaper wars. But this is a really cool time to work in the media, mostly because it’s the Wild, Wild West out here and nobody really knows the future. Hopefully with books like Johnny Football, we can figure out how to get there in one piece.

Sunday books: Story of Sid Gillman, offensive guru; Author Q/A

Sid Gillman doesn’t register much in the rankings of great coaches of all time. But ask somebody like Jon Gruden or Dick Vermeil to discuss Gillman, and they will talk as if he invented the game.

To a degree, Gillman did. Before there was Bill Walsh, there was Sid Gillman.

In a new book, Sid Gillman: Father of the Passing Game, Josh Katzowitz tells the untold story of one of football’s greatest innovators. As a coach with the Los Angeles Rams in the 50s and then with the San Diego Chargers in the 60s, Gillman pioneered the wide-open approach to offense. He was the first coach to set players in motion and to spread the field with receivers. Among the people who worked under Gillman were Chuck Noll and Al Davis.

Gillman had a fascinating, and at times, controversial career. Katzowitz writes that anti-Semitism might have cost Gillman, who was Jewish, the head coach job at Ohio State that eventually went to Woody Hayes. Gillman also had stormy relationships with many players in the pros, including Hall of Famer Lance Alworth and John Hadl, who declined to be interviewed for the book.

Here is my Q/A with Katzowitz:

What gave you the idea to write about book about Sid Gillman?

When I was researching my first book – Bearcats Rising, a book about the University of Cincinnati football program – I got to learn about Sid, because he coached there in the late-1940s to the mid-1950s. For whatever reason, that time frame in American history really fascinates me. It was when my grandparents were in the prime of their lives, and it was around the time when my parents were born. I looked into maybe writing a book on Sid, and I was shocked to learn that even though he was this coach who was in the same pantheon as guys like Vince Lombardi, Paul Brown, Woody Hayes and Bill Walsh (and a guy who had impacted those coaches’ careers), nobody had ever written a book about him. He’s just this very innovative coach whose schemes live into today’s NFL, and he’s fallen through the cracks of history.

Hadl, Alworth and the Paul Brown family declined interviews for the book. Why?

As much as many of today’s coaches have been influenced by Sid, he was not popular among his pro players (he was liked much better by his college players). He was a strict GM who oftentimes would rather cut a player than give him a raise, and players had a hard time separating Sid the GM from Sid the coach. Plus, Sid could simply be a jerk. Former Oilers QB Dan Pastorini summed all of that up perfectly when I talked to him about Sid. I know Sid and Paul Brown hated each other, and that dislike has been filtered down through their family trees. Lance Alworth had a bad experience at the end of his time with the San Diego Chargers. That might be why he didn’t want to talk. I never heard back, so I don’t really know. As for Hadl, I’m not really sure. When I did talk to him, he told me how close he and Sid were (he hired Sid be his offensive coordinator for the L.A. Express, for god’s sake). It might simply be because there was a really well-done ESPN.com piece a few years back that detailed the steroid program Sid was running with the 1963 Chargers, and that might have turned off some of those players to discussing their playing days under Sid.

Were you surprised that he was denied jobs because of his religion?

In retrospect, not really. I’ve never dealt with anti-Semitism on that level in my life, so I didn’t really think about it before I started researching. But then the family tells you that he would have gotten the Ohio State job instead of Woody Hayes if Sid wasn’t Jewish and you start reading Sid’s interviews in which he talked about being black-balled from a Big Ten head coaching job because of his religion, and it dawns on you that it was a real problem for him during the 1940s and 1950s. There was a great line that owner Dan Reeves made when Sid left Cincinnati to take the L.A. Rams job in 1955. Before he officially accepted it, Sid made sure to let Reeves know that he was Jewish. And Dan said something along the lines of, “Hell, that might help you here.”

Was he better as an innovator than he was as a coach?

Considering he never won a Super Bowl and the biggest championship of his life was the 1963 AFL title, I’d lean toward innovation. If Sid wasn’t such an innovator, if his offensive schemes didn’t live on, nobody would think to remember a guy whose career record in the AFL/NFL was 122-97-7. That’s not to say he wasn’t one of the best X’s and O’s guys around at the time, because he was. And that’s not to say he couldn’t turn around a mediocre organization, because he certainly did (he was the first coach in the Cradle of Coaches at Miami (Ohio), he made Cincinnati a power and his work turning around the Houston Oilers won him the AFC coach of the year in 1974). But if people remember him today, it’s because of his vertical stretch offense and his influence in Bill Walsh’s West Coast Offense. Not because he won a couple division titles with the San Diego Chargers.

How much would he have loved today’s pass-first game?

As my CBSSports.com colleague Pete Prisco told me, “THIS is Sid Gillman’s NFL.” You know, even after he retired from coaching and consulting, teams still sent him game film every week to evaluate their offenses and to hear his ideas. If Sid were alive today, he’d be 101 years old. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he was firing up his DVD player every week to watch as much football as possible. He would not be able to get enough of watching guys like Aaron Rodgers, Peyton Manning and Tom Brady and evaluating coaches like Bill Belichick and Sean Payton.

How should his legacy be viewed?

Unless you’ve studied your football history or you’re a football coach, Sid doesn’t really have a legacy. Five years ago, I didn’t know who Sid Gillman was either, and for those of us who were born after Sid was done coaching, he’s basically an unknown entity. One reason I wrote this book was to bring Sid to the masses, to the millions of people who switch over to the RedZone channel every Sunday to watch every touchdown scored. Sid’s innovation is a major reason they’re watching this offensive renaissance and why the NFL is as popular as it is today.

Anything else?

What makes Sid such a fascinating character is not just the football. It’s about his family, his religion, his race relations, and his bad qualities (and he certainly had some). It’s about why everybody who met his wife, Esther, fell in love with her. It’s about how Sid responded when his only son came out of the closet to him, and how that son has lived with AIDS for the past 30 years. In my eyes, the way in which he died just about sums up his life’s work. It wasn’t just about Sid. It was about everybody and everything that surrounded him. In order to write an interesting biography, you need a fascinating character. Sid certainly was that.

Sunday books: Grueling life of football player at West Point; author Q/A

Army is 2-9 this year. That would count as a losing season, right?

But if you read Joe Drape’s new book, Soldiers First: Duty, Honor, Country & Football at West Point, losing is the last word you’d apply to the cadets. The New York Times reporter spent the 2011 season getting the inside story of Army football, and what the cadets have to do through to play the game.

As Drape writes, a grueling three-hour practice can feel like a respite compared to the academic and physical demands the cadets face at West Point. And as he concludes at the end of the book, there’s still only one game that matters for Army: Navy.

Here’s my Q/A with Drape.

What was your motivation for writing the book?

My son, Jack, gave me the idea one night while we were watching the
Notre Dame-Army game. I’m an Irish fan – I had an uncle who taught
there and my oldest brother graduated from Notre Dame. But as soon as
Jack saw the pregame show about Army with the cadets marching in and
soldiers parachuting in with the game balls he was sold. His favorite
toys were those little green Army men and he said, “Let’s go see the good guys, Dad.” I’m a Southern Methodist University graduates and saw
what the best football team money could buy looked like. I also had
covered my share of college football scandals. So I guess I was
looking to restore my faith in college athletics.

How much time did you spend at West Point and how much access did you get to coaches/players?

I spent a full year up there and truly had the run of the place. I was
able to go to classes, see them at their summer training missions, see
them in barracks and attend the ceremonies like Reception Day and
Branch night. I knew very little about the United States Military
Academy and needed and wanted to take my time understanding how it
worked.

I wanted to see what the Cadets were up against. I also wanted
everyone to get used to seeing me so they’d open up. Football-wise, I
was at practice and meetings as well as in the locker rooms and
sidelines during games. It was really a learning experience for me.

What stood out most for you in writing this book?

How much stress the cadets are under and how much is expected of them. They take 24 credit hours of an Ivy caliber education each semester. They are training as soldiers every minute of every day year round. They truly are America’s best and brightest. No one gets a break and that includes the athletes.

They are held to the same standard as their 4,000 fellow cadets and
you really can’t say that about any other college football team. The
easiest thing a varsity Cadet does is play football.

I was struck about the Cadets’ mindset, especially how they were
disappointed about the U.S. pulling out of Iraq. What does that say
about them?

I was struck by it as well. It says a couple of things – that they know what their destination is and are committed to getting there: becoming Lieutenants in the Army and leading men into battle. It also says that they remain 18 to 22 year old kids who feel immortal.

How gut-wrenching was the Navy game?

Ask players at either academy and they will tell you that they play a one game season. Army & Navy can both come in 0-10, but their success will be judged by who gets to “Sing Second” – the moment when the victors gather in front of their fellow cadets or middies and sing the alma mater joyously in victory. Army hadn’t done so in 10 years, and they came close last time.

Would you want your son to go to Army?

I would be the proudest father in the world if Jack went to West Point, and at the same time, I’d be the most petrified. And I know that is the way every parent of a cadet fields – pride in their son or daughter’s commitment and fear knowing that the odds are overwhelming their going to experience combat. Ninety West Point grads have died in the war against terrorism since 9/11.

Sunday books: Epic Duke-Kentucky game covered from all angles; author Q/A

I was watching the Duke-Kentucky game this week when I heard Dick Vitale bring up “The Game.” Sure enough, there was Christian Laettner sitting in the stands being interviewed about his legendary game-winning shot to beat Kentucky in 1992.

Earlier this year, my old friend Gene Wojciechowski came out with a terrific new book: The Last Great Game: Duke vs. Kentucky and the 2.1 seconds that changed college basketball.

Watching this week’s game reminded me that Gene’s book is a must-read if you love college basketball. At the very least, it definitely should be on someone’s holiday gift list.

Gene covers that game in 1992 from every conceivable angle, getting a myriad of perspectives. He also examines all the central characters in that game, from Mike Krzyzewski and Rick Pitino to Christian Laettner and a Kentucky team that had been decimated by recruiting violations just a few years earlier.

I did a Q/A with Gene, asking why that game, which wasn’t even a Final Four game, still resonates with fans 20 years later.

People say this is the best college basketball game ever, and yet it didn’t occur in a Final Four. What lofts this game to that status?

Because it was Kentucky vs. Duke, Pitino vs. Krzyzewski, the soon-to-be-called Unforgettables vs. the virtually unbeatables of Duke. Because the game was played at an incredibly high level from start to finish. Because it went to overtime. Because you need a calculator to add all the great shots down the stretch and during OT. Because a Final Four was at stake. Because Kentucky was back from the near-dead and Duke was going for dynasty status. There were characters and there was character. I just saw Mike Krzyzewski a few weeks ago at Duke and the first thing he wanted to talk about was that game. Twenty years later—that game.

Obviously, this book is much more than about that game. What did you find intriguing about how those programs were built?

Kentucky was at the brink of the death penalty, of irrelevance–which is hard to believe for hoops fans who were too young to remember just how bad it got for that program. Pitino, who would have never come to Kentucky had he known something about the job he was leaving as NY Knicks coach (it’s explained in the book), restored UK basketball to greatness by using the “Hoosiers” movie formula: break the players down, build them up and then find a great player. Jamal Mashburn was the great player. But Pitino was merciless. He almost had no choice. He didn’t have enough talent, so he drove them to the edge with conditioning drills and his particular brand of offense.

Meanwhile, Krzyzewski, who grew up in Chicago and went to Weber High, was hired after a nine-win season at Army. That would never happen today. A nine-win coach getting a major college job? Laughable. But Duke AD Tom Butters did it and then stuck by Krzyzewski three years later when boosters wanted him fired. He had a breakthrough recruiting class shortly thereafter and slowly but surely built his program into elite status. But as late as 1991, there were questions if he could win a national title. He won it in ’91 and then another won in ’92. But he had to get through Kentucky to have a chance for the repeat.

Also, you realize just how much luck goes into building a program. Pitino lucked out getting Mashburn to leave New York City for Kentucky, a school Mash couldn’t locate on a map. Krzyzewski lucked out getting Laettner, Bobby Hurley and Grant Hill. At one point, all three college superstars thought they were going to play at North Carolina for Dean Smith.

The early portions of the book discuss Coach K’s connections to Chicago and then to Bob Knight. How did those aspects influence his career?

Krzyzewski’s is the son of immigrants who came to Chicago looking for a better life. Corny, but true. He went to Catholic schools and at one point wanted to be a priest. Later, he wanted to play basketball in the Big Ten. But no Big Ten school was interested. Nobody was interested–except Knight, the youngest coach in major college basketball at the time. Krzyzewski had no interest in West Point until his parents basically shamed him into accepting the appointment. That would begin a life-long relationship that included coach, mentor, opposing coach, friend and then, for nine years, non-friend, and then friend again. It is a complicated relationship. And at times, it was an unhealthy relationship. But there’s no doubt that Knight profoundly impacted Krzyzewski’s life and career–and, I think, the other way around, too. Through osmosis, Krzyzewski has many of Knight’s best qualities–and very few of his worst. But that relationship–and its twists and turns–is a central theme of the book.

Besides Coach K and Pitino, the most interesting character in the book is Mr. Laettner. What made him the perfect guy to be the hero?

Laettner is a hero and a villain at the same time. He is clearly one of the greatest college hoops players of all time. But he was despised by opponents and often, by his own teammates. He imposed his will on those Duke teams and he didn’t care if he was beloved. He loved his teammates, his school, his coach, etc. But he could be ruthless and calculating, if he thought it necessary. He isn’t a hero in the classic sense. He’s almost an anti-hero. But he was definitely the star of the game and of this book. He had movie-star looks, attended a prestigious Buffalo prep school, but actually came from a very humble backround and had to work his way through high school. I covered him at Duke when I was with the LA Times and enjoyed talking to him then, and now. UK fans still don’t find him enjoyable. Even 20 years later, the mere mention of his name to Wildcat fans sends their blood pressure to astronomical levels.

Northwestern and Duke have much in common: Academics, size, etc. Can it ever happen at Northwestern in basketball, as it did for Duke?

Doubtful. You need an administration willing to be patient. You need to get lucky with recruiting. You need something of a hoops legacy. Northwestern is a great institution, but the era, the patience level, the recruiting are much different today than they were when Krzyzewski was building Duke basketball. I’d love to see it happen at Northwestern, but you have to remember that Krzyzewski has been at Duke since 1981. In many ways, he IS Duke basketball now. There’s nobody at Northwestern with that sort of identity. Plus, Duke actually had basketball pedigree before Krzyzewski arrived. Not so at Northwestern.

Forget about the Dallas Cowboys. Is Duke truly as close to an America’s Team in sports?

Duke and Kentucky are sort of America’s team. If you made a Mt. Rushmore of college basketball, it would feature Duke, North Carolina, Kansas and Kentucky. UCLA used to be on there, but no more. Those programs are regional and yet national too. But if you’re asking which one of those four is America’s Team, then, sure, Duke would be it, based on Krzyzewski’s longevity, all those national championship banners under his watch, that wonderful Cameron Indoor Stadium, the Crazies. . . everything.

One last point from Gene.

The book, of course, is centered around how Kentucky and Duke came to meet that amazing night at the Spectrum in Philadelphia. But after Duke beat Kentucky, it had to beat two Big Ten teams to claim that second consecutive national title: Bob Knight’s Indiana team, and then Michigan and the Fab Five. The win against IU marked the beginning of the cold war between Knight and Krzyzewski, and the win against The Fab Five put an exclamation point on a very heated and, at times, racially charged rivalry.

More fire: Payton author questions whether Walter’s brother knows meaning of “biography”

Walter Payton’s brother, Eddie, is out with a new book, Walter & Me. From the preview:

More than a  decade  after the untimely death of Walter Payton, his older brother  recalls  the moments they shared and the continuing sting of the loss of  a  legend. This glimpse into Payton’s life doesn’t sugarcoat the issues  or  glorify the late superstar, but rather it addresses the subjects of   suicide, drug abuse, and infidelity head-on with intimate knowledge of   the facts. In this candid take, Walter’s older brotherdiscloses the   true life of man simply known as “Sweetness.”

Jeff Pearlman addressed many of those same issues in his biography on Payton, Sweetness. Many folks in Payton’s camp have taken offense to the portrayal, including Eddie.

While promoting his book, Eddie accused Pearlman of misrepresenting himself when the author approached him.

“[Jeff Pearlman] didn’t misrepresent himself. He flat-out lied to me. I never met him. I talked to him on the phone. He introduced himself as a writer for Sports Illustrated; he wanted to come on down; he was thinking about doing an article for Sports Illustrated about Walter; he wanted to meet some of his old teammates, his coaches and yadda yadda yadda. And I was gung ho about that. I introduced him to 10-15 people. And in doing that … about, two … three days later one of the guys comes in and says, “This book ought to sell a bunch of copies.’ I said, ‘What book? He’s writing an article.’ He said, ‘No, he’s writing a book.’ And when I confronted him with it he kind of heed and haaed and heed and haad and said, ‘Well, it may be a book.’ And then we asked him about Walter’s scholarship. And I said, ‘If you’re going to write about the man, you need to help continue what the man was doing.’ And he heed and haaed, and wouldn’t make a commitment, and we pulled. Everybody we knew, we pulled. Because at that point we realized we’d been had. And we’re not gonna go along and be a part of this charade from this a-hole. Who said he’d do one thing and did another. And the book is such a work of garbage and fiction.”

Pearlman should be used to the attacks by now. However, being called a liar is a whole other matter.

On his site, Pearlman addressed the latest remarks. He doesn’t hold back, calling Eddie “a dolt,” and questioning whether he knew the meaning of the word, biography. Pearlman wrote:

To be 100-percent clear: I did not lie to Eddie Payton and I did not misrepresent myself to Eddie Payton. Never. As I always do when working on a book, I introduce myself thusly: “My name is Jeff Pearlman. I was a longtime Sports Illustrated writer, and I’m the author of X books. I’m working on a biography of Walter, and would love the chance …” This is how I’ve done it for years, this is how I’ll continue to do it. Why? Because SI supplies a backdrop to my career, and the books show I’ve done this before. It establishes my cred, so to speak, which is important.

In hindsight, I suspect that Eddie may well not know what the word “biography” means. I’m not joking or being snide. He has a unique way of mangling and misusing words; Walt Frazier without the smarts. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t understand. I’m willing to offer that benefit of the doubt, I suppose.

 

Sunday books: Best and brightest of American sports writing

It seems sports writing is limited to 140 characters these days. Long pieces are multiple tweets.

So it is refreshing to get a reminder that the craft still can produce long, thoughtful, insightful stories that combine the best of reporting and writing.

The Best American Sports Writing 2012 shows you what the genre is and still can be in the new media age. Here’s the link at Amazon.

Series editor Glenn Stout, and this year’s guest editor, Michael Wilbon, have compiled an offering of stories that quite simply will blow you away. And they run the spectrum of platforms. There are stories you likely wouldn’t have seen if not for this book.

The menu includes:

Alex Belth in Deadspin on the wild life of George Kimball, the Boston sportswriter who was a true character.

Paul Solotaroff with Rick Telander in Men’s Journal on the tragic death of Dave Duerson.

John Brant in Runner’s World on Frank Shorter revealing the secrets of the torment from his incredibly abusive father. This is truly a harrowing story.

Michael Mooney in D Magazine writes a terrific profile of Ron Washington despite the Texas manager declining to sit down with him for an interview.

Tim Layden in Sports Illustrated on a school’s forgotten college football hero.

And there’s more, so much more. Be sure to get the book. It’s a good reminder that sports writing still is alive and well.

 

 

 

New Sports Illustrated book: Ranking NFL’s greatest; TO No. 6 receiver?

In recent years, Sports Illustrated has published these magnificent coffee table books on baseball, football, basketball, hockey and golf. Terrific writing, and pictures, unforgettable pictures.

Yet SI barely scratched the surface of its vast inventory. So naturally the magazine decided it was time to do more.

Its latest book is Sports Illustrated: Football’s Greatest. The premise is a select panel of SI’s NFL experts (including Peter King, Jim Trotter, and Don Banks) ranking the top 10 in various categories.

In the no-surprise department, Joe Montana is No. 1 for quarterback, and Jim Brown is the best running back. However, Terrell Owens at No. 6 for receivers? And Hines Ward 10th? Do you think that Arrowhead in KC is the second best stadium in the league?

Of course, you won’t agree with the choices, and that’s the point. Debate is a big part of it.

The foundation of the book is the writing and pictures. You’ll read classic excerpts from Paul Zimmerman, Dan Jenkins, Frank Deford, Roy Blount Jr. and John Schulian, among others.

The real stars, though, are the pictures, especially the vintage shots from the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s. I loved the photos of players in the mud. In one of the opening pictures, you couldn’t even make out the No. 32 on Brown’s uniform.

The game looked so much grittier back then. There’s a terrific shot of Jack Lambert’s pants, stained with blood. Says it all about that era of football.

I had a chance to talk with Bill Syken, who edited the book for SI. Here’s my Q/A.

What’s behind doing another book, besides a terrific excuse to roll out more of those pictures?

We go back to 1954. The magazine and the league rose at the same time. This is a way for us to take of that great writing and pictures. Coming up with top 10 lists allows us to organize it and to take advantage of our depth of knowledge.

Talk about the pictures. Why are those old pictures so striking?

In picking out the photos for the book, we tried to figure out why the ones from the 50s, 60s and 70s all looked so great and capitivated us. Is it something about the fabric of those uniforms and the way the light hit them? There’s a picture of the ’62 Packers. The colors just pop out. It’s really pleasing to look at.

You also had some great shots of players’ eyes. The intensity of Dick Butkus; Jerry Rice’s concentration while catching a pass.

When we look at a picture in the dark room, one of the great things you see is a player’s eyes. If we can’t see his eyes, the photo is disqualified.

Talk about the writing in the book. What was it like to sort through all those stories?

If there was one category that was interesting, it was picking excerpts for best franchise. I knew we had all the big games covered, and players. But franchise is a bit more abstract. So it was great to find this description of the Packers (from Bud Shrake) from a man in a sauna in Green Bay going to his first game. Or Frank Deford, talking to Richard Nixon about the Redskins.

Terrell Owens sixth best receiver?

We have Cris Carter eighth, and he can’t get into the Hall of Fame. It’s an interesting category. It is the one where the statistics have changed the most.

The great thing about going through the lists is trying to see which guys are going to be slotted in the middle. Who’s coming in 9th or 10th? Who isn’t going to make the top 10? When you consider the credibility of the people voting on these list, it’s hard not to get caught up in it.

What’s next in the series?

If we do another one, the forerunner will be baseball.

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday books: Q/A with author of Montana/Young book; Collision of two Hall of Famers

Forgive me, but living in Chicago, it’s hard to get used to the notion of a franchise having back-to-back Hall of Fame quarterbacks. Sid Luckman, who retired in 1950, still holds many of the passing records for the Bears.

The San Francisco 49ers, meanwhile, were blessed to have Joe Montana and Steve Young run the show for two decades. Both wound up in Canton.

However, it hardly was a smooth transition. In a fascinating new book, Best of Rivals, Adam Lazarus examines the uneasy relationship between Montana and Young when their Hall of Fame careers intersected in San Francisco.

Here’s my Q/A with Lazarus.

How did you get the idea for the book?

One of the real sparks for this book was the idea that a quarterback controversy is so sexy and so interesting. It seems like everyone in the media wants one to happen or wants to make one happen. Just look at what the Mark Sanchez-Tim Tebow story has done this year. So I wanted to tap into that powerful and emotional element of the NFL and immediately the Young-Montana story popped up.

But from a personal standpoint–even though I wasn’t a 49ers fan and lived in the Midwest–I grew up watching Young and Montana. They were two of the biggest names in that era and I remember how riveting it was when Joe was in Kansas City and Steve was in San Francisco. It was such a classic story of redemption for Montana and validation for Young that I wanted to bring that part of the story alive too. Just because the 49ers traded away Joe doesn’t mean the “rivalry” between the two ended.

What kind of access did you get from Montana and Young? What was their reaction when you told them the subject of the book?

I was very fortunate to interview both of them and they were really great to talk to, but I don’t think either one was too eager to discuss the specifics of their relationship with one another. They both were delicate and I think “politically correct” with their answers. The book isn’t really about Joe and Steve’s personal like or dislike for one another (although it’s certainly addressed) so that allowed me to talk with them about other parts of their careers and their lives and how those previous experiences shaped the quarterback controversy later on. But it’s a touchy subject for both men because I think they both have hard feelings from that time period: I think Joe didn’t like being pushed out of town and regretted that he couldn’t finish his career in San Francisco while Steve didn’t like sitting on the bench during his prime then being constantly measured against Joe’s towering achievements.

How different/similar are the two men?

As much as anything, this book highlights the differences between the two. Most people know that they played the game much differently: and not just that Joe was a righty and Steve a lefty. Joe did all he could to hang in the pocket and distribute the ball. Steve was often eager to tuck the ball and run. But the off-the-field element helped make this book more than just a “football story.” Joe came from a blue collar Catholic background; Steve a white collar Mormon background. Joe was an only child whose parents did all they could to make their son enjoy his childhood; Steve was part of a big family and all the kids worked multiple jobs growing up.

So it’s no wonder that Joe owned several houses and more than half a dozen sports cars during his career, while Steve (who had already made millions) lived in a rented a room in a teammate’s house and drove a 20-year-old car with two-hundred thousand miles. And their personalities were completely different as well. Joe was renowned for being so calm and carefree and just a laid-back teammate.

Chiefs teammate Neil Smith told me that Montana was “the coolest white guy that God ever made.” Steve was much more high strung and antsy, on and off the field. Brent Jones chalked that up to a real sense of urgency to make good on all that was expected of him. But what I liked most about the story was–and this is something Jerry Rice told me–that the two shared one trait that is so critical to playing quarterback. Joe and Steve commanded so much respect in the huddle and just had that “it” quality when it came to leadership.

What struck me about Montana was the physical beating he took and all the off-season surgeries. Do people underestimate his toughness?

What Montana was able to achieve during his career was almost mind boggling. Not only was he small for a quarterback (he played at about 190 pounds) but he wasn’t built solid. Several people used the word “fragile” when they described him and he didn’t do very much weight training. Yet he survived in the NFL for 15 seasons. Sure he missed games and missed practically two full seasons but he had this uncanny ability to recover and endure. And some of the hits he took were absolutely heinous, like the famous one Leonard Marshall delivered in the 1990 NFC Championship Game. He had two injuries (spine in 1986 and elbow in 1991-92) that many doctors and team officials considered career-ending yet he still returned to win Super Bowls, MVPs, and playoff games.

It is a bit ironic because what really ignites the quarterback controversy (i.e. the 49ers trading for Steve Young in 1987) is the front office underestimating Joe’s toughness. He had two brutal injuries the previous season and the front office didn’t know how much longer he would last. As it turned out, he lasted eight more seasons.

Would Young have achieved similar HOF success in a different system other than Walsh/49ers?

Young very well may have been the most physically talented quarterback in NFL history: he ran as fast and tough as a running back and, based on what he was able to do in college, was a very successful passer. So I think–Walsh and the West Coast system or not–he would have eventually put it all together to be a very good quarterback. That’s something Mike Holmgren once said, that Steve liked to figure things out for himself.

But watching Montana and studying that offense for all those years I think helped him take that step from very good to Hall of Fame. Those years he sat behind Montana he saw–in games, in practice, in the film room, in game planning meetings–how arguably the best offense of all time was constructed and executed. So his talents combined with that first-hand experience led to a special marriage.

Is your next book going to be on the Favre-to-Rodgers transition in Green Bay? Looks like back-to-back HOF QBs for the Packers.

Many people compare the Montana-Young story to Favre-Rodgers and there definitely are some parallels, but in some ways, I think it’s apples-to-oranges. Montana was only 30 when the 49ers made the trade for Young and Young had already been a pro for four seasons (two in the USFL, two in the NFL). So the on-paper gap between them wasn’t quite as wide as it was for Favre and Rodgers.

Favre was 35 when they drafted Rodgers, who had never played an NFL game. Furthermore, when Rodgers and Favre were on the same roster there was never really a “competition” between the two. Recall that in 1988, Bill Walsh publicly announced that the quarterback job was up for grabs between Joe and Steve. In Green Bay, Favre never missed a game so Rodgers didn’t have a chance to showcase his skills. Then he retired (sort of) and left (sort of) and Rodgers inherited the job outright.

In San Francisco, Montana missed significant time over the years due to injury and Young stepped in and played very well at times so he did showcase his skills. That gave the rivalry and the debate over the two more legitimacy. And since Young and Montana were together on the same roster for six seasons, while Rodgers and Favre were only together for three it’s not quite the same.

Anything else?

What makes this story special is that we’ll never see the likes of it again. Sure there may be another case of two Hall of Fame quarterbacks being on the same roster, like Rodgers and Favre. But because of the salary cap and free agency teams aren’t able to stockpile talent for long periods of time anymore. And considering how much money starting quarterbacks demand teams can’t afford to concentrate their funds on a position where their is no sharing of playing time like at running back or defensive end. And–unless you’re winning Super Bowls at tremendous pace like the 49ers dynasty did– organizations won’t tolerate the circus and distraction associated with a quarterback controversy.

Teams want one, unquestioned, unchallenged leader at quarterback. If Eli Manning or Matthew Stafford or Matt Ryan somehow became embedded in a quarterback controversy next year with a hot-shot young quarterback, it wouldn’t last nearly as long as Montana-Young and therefore it wouldn’t be nearly as epic.

 

 

Sunday books: How Gary Bettman changed hockey

With Gary Bettman into another major work stoppage, and hopefully not his second cancelled season, it seems to be an appropriate time to evaluate the tenure of the NHL commissioner.

Jonathan Gatehouse took on the task in a new book: The Instigator: How Gary Bettman Remade the NHL and Changed the Game Forever.

Tom Hoffarth of the Los Angeles Daily News did a recent interview with Gatehouse. Here are some of the excerpts.

Q: What prompted the idea to do a bio on Bettman? I imagine the process starting a year or so earlier, knowing there’d be a labor issue approaching and he’d be a targeted person again? Was that the thinking?

A: The idea came about initially because it dawned on me that this winter will mark Bettman’s 20th anniversary as NHL commissioner and nobody had really taken a step back and tried to evaluate the impact he has had on pro hockey. And when you think about it, it’s not hard to conclude that he’s become the most influential–and powerful–figure the game has ever known. But at the time I started researching the book, more than 18 months ago, it wasn’t so clear that a lockout was looming. At that point, Bettman was still talking about “tweaking” the current arrangement with the players, not blowing it up. The timing just ended up being great for me, and lousy for the fans.

Q: What caused the word ‘instigator’ to come up as the title to describe him? That’s really eye-drawing.

A: It just seemed to fit. He’s instigated so many changes to the league during his time as commissioner–on and off the ice. And in that very specific hockey sense of the word, he’s the guy who gets paid by the owners to drop the gloves and start the fights.

Q: Going forward, does he seem to be the right guy to “carry on” and lead the league another 20 years?

A: Listen, if Gary Bettman wins this lockout — which I’m convinced he will–he’s emperor for life. Whether he’s the right guy to carry on will be immaterial. The owners respect money, and he’s made them plenty.

Author Q/A: SI’s Mark Beech’s book on Army’s last great team and legendary coach Red Blaik

It’s been a long time since Army was relevant in college football beyond its annual game with Navy. As in basically, my entire lifetime. Army’s last great season was 1958. I was born in 1959.

However, back in the ’40s, Army was Alabama and Red Blaik was Nick Saban; Blaik even helped groom a young assistant named Vince Lombardi.

The Black Knights ruled the game. Then after sliding a bit in the early 50s, Army and Blaik had a final blast of glory.

Sports Illustrated’s Mark Beech documents it all in a new book When Saturday Mattered Most: The Last Golden Season of Army Football. Army went 8-0-1 in 1958 with Pete Dawkins winning the Heisman Trophy, and “The Lonesome End” becoming the stuff of legend.

Blaik is at the centerpiece of this story. A confidant of  Gen. Douglas MacArthur, the coach was a complex man. He ultimately decided to retire after the ’58 season. Army never reached those heights again.

Beech captures all the layers of the coach and what it was like to play football for Army in his excellent new book. He was gracious enough to do a Q/A.

How did you get the idea for the book?

I have had this idea banging around in my head for years. My father graduated from West Point in 1959—he was classmates with the seniors on Army’s 1958 team, which was the last in West Point history to go undefeated and boast a Heisman-Trophy winner. It was really a magical year. I went to West Point myself, class of 1991, and the idea seemed to be sitting out there calling to me. I’m very lucky that there was a great untold story right in front of my face. Not every writer gets that.

My fascination with this team stems from the time I would spend as a kid poring over the pages in my father’s West Point yearbook, The Howitzer. This was in the 1970s, when Army football was mired in an especially unsuccessful period, and it was amazing to me that the Black Knights had been not just good when my father was a cadet, but truly great.

How big was Army football during the 50s?

It was still big, though not as much of a powerhouse as it was in the 1940s, when coach Red Blaik led the Cadets to five undefeated seasons, two outright national championships and a disputed third title. In the ’50s, Army was regularly ranked, but usually around the margins of the top 10, at best. By 1958 it had been a long time since they had been undefeated and a contender for the national championship.

Red Blaik was a complex guy. And he had this relationship with Gen. Douglas MacArthur. How would you describe him for people who haven’t heard of him?

Complex is a pretty good start. He was austere and aloof. He rarely ever spoke to his players, and when he did, he almost always addressed them by their last names.

He was a beast at preparation and practice. The cadets on his team were only available for drills two hours out of every day, so Blaik kept his sessions tightly organized and very detailed. The Army playbook was not big. Blaik chose to rely on a small number of highly effective plays that he would practice to perfection. He was also passionately devoted to film study, breaking down game footage with his assistants endlessly, searching for any advantage. It’s fair to say he won most of his games before Army ever took the field on Saturday.

He was also a coach of coaches. Twenty-two men who worked for him at West Point went on to lead programs at the collegiate and professional level, including Sid Gillman and Vince Lombardi, two men who were integral in shaping the modern NFL. Lombardi, in particular, was an acolyte of “the colonel’s,” and rarely missed an opportunity to tell people that all he knew about organizing and preparing a team to win he learned from Red Blaik. The influence on Lombardi is especially evident in the way the Packers used to endlessly drill the famous Packers Sweep.

Blaik was also controversial—a fact that remains true even today. Rightly or wrongly, he was blamed by many at West Point for the 1951 cheating scandal, which the evidence shows probably began within his own team. Among the 90 cadets who were expelled from West Point in the wake of the scandal were 37 members of Blaik’s varsity team, including his own son, Bob, due to be the Black Knights’ starting quarterback that fall. The incident remained a bitter pill for Blaik for the rest of his long life, and he only stayed on as the coach at West Point at the urging of his idol, Douglas MacArthur, who told him, “Don’t leave under fire.” Blaik didn’t, and with the 1958 season, he restored Army to what he saw as its rightful place atop the college football heap. He retired after that season, but the acrimony and bitterness remained. Even today, there is controversy at the academy any time there is a move to honor his legacy at West Point.

Would he be able to succeed in today’s environment?

Without question. Blaik was not an innovator—his exploits with the Lonely End offense in 1958 aside—but he was thoroughly aware of movements and trends within the game. He never counted himself a great game coach, and there is some evidence to back up that assessment, but his devotion to preparation and study would ensure his success. I don’t have any doubts on this point.

What was it like talking to some of the former players, many of whom went on to lead interesting lives? How did playing for Army and Blaik shape them?

Bill Carpenter, the Lonely End himself, said that every important lesson he learned at West Point, he learned out on the football field. Carpenter is a fascinating character, a genuine hero and a soldier’s soldier. He’s really worthy of a biography himself, though he told me several times during our interview that if I was trying to undertake such project, our communications would be terminated. He lives at a far remove from most of the rest of his teammates, in a log cabin in Whitefish, Montana, where he retired after he left the army in 1992. He dubbed his house, “The Lonesome End,” and it really fits.

Pete Dawkins, the halfback who won the Heisman Trophy in 1958, has never stopped living a life of remarkable achievement. There’s been so much written about him that when we met for an interview two summers ago I told him that I only wanted to talk to him about football—there were more than enough resources to help me reconstruct his life story! Like the rest of his teammates, he was devoted to Red Blaik. The coach valued Dawkins not just for his abilities as a receiver (he averaged over 30 yards a catch in ’58!) and his determined running, but also for his ability to see the whole field and dissect the game as it was happening. Dawkins, a Rhodes Scholar, is extremely smart and perceptive, and it’s no surprise that he is the one who called audibles at crucial moment during the victories over both Notre Dame and Rice. Talking football with him was one of the most fascinating conversations of my life.

Will we ever see another Army team like the one in ’58?

Unfortunately for myself and other old grads, no. Current Army coach Rich Ellerson has said that his goal for the Black Knights is to be consistently good and occasionally great. And I think that is a very realistic and ideal goal. He’s talking about finishing above .500 most years, and maybe someday winning 10 games or more. If Army does reach something like 10 or even 11 wins, the best ranking I think they could hope to achieve is something around the margins of the top 20. They’ll never again be No. 1, as they were for about three weeks after they beat the Fighting Irish in 1958. Those days are gone. The same kind of guy still goes to West Point to play football at Army as in 1958—a driven, duty-conscious kid who’s interested in a challenge and in being part of something bigger than just a football team. But because of the pull of professional football, the same kind of athlete does not go to West Point, which requires five years of service in the army after graduation.

Anything else?

Only other thing I can think to add is what a sensation the Lonely End was in 1958. Beyond the mystery of why Carpenter never returned to the huddle and how he knew what play to run, it was just a devastatingly effective weapon. Army transformed from a ground-and-pound team—columnist Red Smith described Red Blaik as “the high priest of the overland game”— into a air-raiding juggernaut. The Black Knights actually led the country in passing offense in 1958. Though the offense never again caught on, we can see its lasting influence today in a defensive adjustment that has become a major part of pro football: the inverted safety. Essentially, an inverted safety is one who plays in the flat, just off the line of scrimmage and between the offensive line and the wide receivers. Think Troy Polamalu of the Pittsburgh Steelers, who has made a living playing in the flat and either dropping into coverage or rushing into the backfield for a sack. Before Bill Carpenter split wide in 1958, nobody had ever seen that.

*****

To here more from Beech, here’s the link to a podcast he did with SI’s Richard Deitsch.