by Mike Siani
THE WALL OF SHAME
What would Raiders training camp be without a Wall of Shame? Biletnikoff explains.
“We partied so much in our rooms that they became very popular with various female players. At times we had to take reservations. We also began finding, the morning after, various bras and panties that women had left behind. That gave us the idea to start a collection of women’s undergarments. Kind of our trophies. We tacked the garments up on the walls and watched the items multiply. Women readily contributed, with monogrammed panties being the choice donation of the elite.
“Undergarment collecting became an annual rite of training camp. Someone called us the ‘Frederick’s of Santa Rosa.’ In subsequent years, we tended to judge our preseason success not by how many passes were completed or receptions caught, not by how many tackles were made or how much yardage was gained. The bottom line was: how much lingerie did we collect?”
Sometimes the guys didn’t feel like going out, so the entertainment was brought to them.
“There were some nights when we were all tired or maybe needed a night off the sauce and we’d decide not to go out on the Circuit” explained Stabler. “We’d all just sit around the rooms, read, talk, have a couple of beers. It felt damn good—for about an hour.
“Then one of us would feel the need to get some entertainment going. A ball boy would walk past our door and we’d tell him to find the two rookies we named and send them to us.
‘Tell them it’s their ass and yours if they don’t get here pronto.’
“Usually we’d just send the rookies out for pizza or hamburgers. But the really fun times were when their assigned mission, a bit more difficult but one of the more important ones in their young lives, was to bring us back women.”
‘This is a major test of your abilities,’ I’d tell them. ‘Raiders have to be resourceful, determined, and quick-witted at all times. This is one of those times. Raiders are also expected to know how to sweet talk women. So regard this as just part of your training. Failure won’t be looked on kindly.’
‘I’m sure,’ Pete would say, ‘You don’t want to be standing on your chair at every meal singing your rotten school songs.’
‘Go get ’em,’ Tony would say.
‘And remember,’ Freddy would always add, ‘no coyotes.’
“One night, though, we suffered a terrible disappointment. The two girls were so cute, I about felt my eyeballs sweat. Both girls were wearing white short-shorts that did little to disguise what was under them. They were also braless and walked into our doorway like players of the first rank. But when the redhead opened her mouth, it was like we were two TDs down to the Steelers with thirty seconds left to play.
‘Are you guys serious?’ she said with sarcasm you could chew on. ‘We just wanted to check out you jerks who had the balls to send kids to score dates for you.’ Her eyes scanned the room. ‘Did you really think we would be a couple more of your playthings?’ If looks could melt, we would have all gone up in smoke.
“She hooked a finger under the lower edge of her panties, tugged it down on the side of her thigh, and let it snap back. Her girlfriend turned, bent, and mooned us through her shorts, saying, ‘Enjoy yourselves.’ Then they were gone.”
“Win some, lose some,” I thought. “But within ten minutes we were out on the prowl again. No way could we stay in after that simmering short-shorts show.”
Married veterans had to be even more resourceful than their unmarried teammates. Stabler recalls an incident that occurred on the football field when a married vet was kicked in the balls . . . and thankful for it.
“For example, what do you do when you are about to go home to your wife from camp bearing crabs? This story concerns a former teammate who is still married to that wife, so he will remain anonymous.”
“Crabs, back then, were treated with an ointment called Pyrinate A-200. It was so popular with the ‘Santa Rosa Five’ that we pasted a Pyrinate label on our bathroom mirror over a sign that read: COMBAT YOUR ENEMY. But back then it took a week to kill off crabs, and my teammate would have to join his wife in two days after the final preseason game. He would be expected to take care of his homework . . . and what could he do?
“What he did was get lucky. In the game against the Rams, with his wife looking on from the stands, he was kicked in the nuts on a kickoff. It was the only time in his life he was thankful for a kick in the nuts, but he saw that as a solution to his problem.
“After the injury, he was carried off the field into the locker room. At game’s end he had very swollen testicles, and to emphasize this he stuck two athletic socks into his Jockey shorts. He then put on slacks and a sport coat and gingerly walked out to meet his wife.
‘Sorry I can’t go home with you, babe,’ he said, pointing at his bulging crotch. ‘I’m hurting and everyone who got hurt today has to go back to camp for treatment.’”
THE ARRIVAL OF BOB BROWN
In 1971, Rams offensive tackle Bob Brown was traded to Raiders. Brown talks about his way of dealing with fines.
“I didn’t have to sneak out. I’d leave at ten at night and just leave a blank check signed on my bed, and if they came in and fined me, they could just fill out the check.”
Linebacker Duane Benson had this to say on his reaction to meeting Brown.
“He shows up in ’71, the first day, in a Cadillac, wearing a basketball shirt, with this huge upper body. And he’s got a driver. Shit, the rest of us were driving junkers, and he shows up with a driver and a suitcase full of pistols. It was like I told Jim Otto, ‘I don’t think the son of a bitch needs a pistol. He’s got arms as big as your legs.’ Brown immediately fit right in.”
Pete Banaszak recalls an incident between Brown and the goalpost.
“Bob went on to the field before practice had begun. I saw him get into a three-point stance in front of the goalpost, then run into it. I swear, those goalposts were four by fours. He snapped it right in half! My eyes fell out of my head. You got to remember that every weird guy who ever played football those days came through the Raiders.”
Being an offensive tackle, Bob Brown was not a big fan of the headslap. Raiders’ cornerback Willie Brown tells the story that Brown told to him.
“Bob was traded by the Eagles to the Rams,” said Willie Brown. “There he met Deacon Jones. Deacon was famous for his ‘headslap.’ Bob was definitely not a fan of it. He finally asked Deacon to stop using the tactic on him during practice. As usual, Jones ignored his request. At the following practice, Deacon slapped the side of Bob’s helmet and tore up his hand. Boomer had replaced a small screw [that held the helmet pad in place] with a longer screw that stuck out of the helmet.”
Phil Villapiano learned a lesson on dealing with Boomer when he was asked to help him with his pass blocking.
“One day Boomer asked me to stay and help him with his pass blocking. He tells me, ‘I’m going to get back off the ball and you’re going to try and get to the quarterback.’ I fucking come up field, hard, come in, make a move and the fucking guy blasts me in the stomach, nearly fucking kills me. I go, ‘Bob, what the fuck?’ I mean we didn’t even have helmets on!”
As much as Brown was known for his hard hitting, he was also known for his style . . . and for Villapiano to say that Bob Brown was an extravagant dresser would be an understatement.
“I called him ‘El Boomo.’ We’d go to Golden Gate and Bay Meadows and play the horses. You should have seen his outfits. You’d get on the airplane with him, he’d have these tight spandex pants, 300 pounds with a silk guinea T-shirt showing off these large muscles, gold chain, a fucking hat, fucking boots. You’d go, ‘What the fuck is this?’”
In the seventies it didn’t take much for players to stand out, and Bob was no different. As stated earlier, Brown carried a suitcase to training camp that was filled with only firearms. One night he decided to use one of them.
“We were all sleeping when all of a sudden we heard gunfire,” said Villapiano. “
We’re all ducking and running down the hallway like the Black Plague’s here. It turned out that Boomer had shot out his television.”
Another time, Brown riddled Willie Brown’s mattress with bullets.
“Gene Upshaw and I were roommates and down the hall from Boomer’s room. Boomer used to come into our room and raid the refrigerator. Gene and I would be watching TV and I’d be telling Bob to do this, do that: ‘Bob, cut the light out.” Then I’d say, ‘Get me some cheese.’ Then I’d call him back and say, ‘Bob get me a soda.’ Then, ‘Bob, turn off the TV.’ So the next time I call him he comes back and shoots three bullets into my mattress. Not near me; he wasn’t trying to hit me, or anything like that, but that didn’t stop me from backpedaling in that bed so fast that I almost climbed the wall. Hell, I was scared to death. He says, ‘That’ll teach you to make me your servant.’”
When it was time for pay raises, Bob had a way of getting his point across. “The story had it that Boomer was negotiating his contract with Al Davis, and that Al didn’t want to give him a raise, so he pulled out a gun and sat it on the desk,” said center Jim Otto. I don’t know if he got the raise or not.”
Whether on or off the field, Bob Brown brought his own style and personality to the Raiders.
“Bob Brown brought his technique and style to the team and that’s what he taught our guys,” said Madden. “They were tough anyway, but from Bob they learned that even in relatively passive situations they could be aggressive. You feed off Boomer Brown’s aggression on your offensive line, and pretty soon everyone’s playing that way.”
THE INFAMOUS AIR HOCKEY TOURNAMENTS
Raider training camp was famous for its air hockey tournaments. Phil was my roommate and, together, we declared ourselves co-commissioners of all tournaments, games, and activities during training camp.
“It all began during the 1973 offseason when the Raiders and Rams played a charity basketball game. The halftime entertainment included a tricycle race. Phil beat the Rams linebacker Isiah Robertson, and his prize was an air hockey table. That summer at training camp, Phil brought the air hockey table to Santa Rosa and it stayed in our room all summer during training camp. During the day and night when we were not practicing football, Raider players routinely entered our room to hone up on their air hockey skills. Of course, come tournament time, skill had nothing to do with whether you won or lost, it was how well you cheated that advanced you to the championship. The table later found a home at Melendy’s, where it remained for several years.
“As co-commissioners of the tournament, Villapiano and I had responsibilities of that prestigious position which required us to come up with rules and regulations for all such events. So, for our annual air hockey tournament, which was a round robin format, like the NCAA basketball tournament, we came up with thirty odd rules for the tournament, with the last and most important rule reading: Cheating is Highly Encouraged.
“Rule number 30 was taken to heart by all members of the team entered in playing in the tournament, and it also meant that rules 1 through 29 meant absolutely nothing!”
Now veterans Pete Banaszak and Fred Biletnikoff derived a method of cheating that can only be described as genius!
As the tournament progressed, we knew they were cheating, but we couldn’t figure out how they were doing it. They had already won six games in a row and were now in the finals against John “Happy Fella” Vella and Dave “Double D” Dalby, and still no team had scored a goal against them. Vella and Dalby themselves had come up with an ingenious way of cheating as they wore extra long trench coats weighed down with extra heavy sleeves enabling them to block many a shot on goal with those sleeves. But even their ingenuity was no match for Biletnikoff and Banaszak in what was dubbed as the most creative cheating in Oakland Raider tournament history.
“After another resounding 7–0 victory for Biletnikoff and Banaszak as they ripped through the dumbfounded Vella and Dalby on their way to the championship. However, before they walked away with their trophies and a couple of more beers in their hands, all participants needed to know just how they cheated so well. They were not walking out of that bar without an explanation as the door was blocked by 6’9” defensive end John Matuszak. Their explanation was exhilarating as they told how they corroborated with equipment manager Dick Romanski in designing an apparatus constructed of clear plastic, which somehow strapped undetected to their left hand. As they played with their right hand on the stick and hit the puck around the board, they slipped their left hand under the table and into the mouth of the goal. Thus, with the speed of the puck flying around the table, no one—including the co-commissioners—ever realized that the shot of an opponent would occasionally enter the goal and then quickly and simply ricochet back onto the playing surface—truly ingenious! The rowdy and inebriated crowd of Raiders exploded in applause as the champions were lifted in the air and paraded around the bar for their creativity and effort for cheating at the highest level.
“Just Win, Baby” was a phrase coined by Raiders owner Al Davis, and that night Biletnikoff and Banaszak had followed Al’s advice to perfection in doing anything and everything to just win.
“The number one rule for the air hockey tournament was ‘Cheating is encouraged,’” said Monte Johnson. “And, of course, it was only cheating if you get caught.”
Villapiano used to say, “If you’re not cheating, you’re not really trying.”
“What the air-hockey tournament revealed was how we played football. The original rules were lost over time, but here’s an example of what they said:
• Cheating is encouraged
• Motherfuckages and verbal abuse of opponents is encouraged
• No physical abuse to table, players, or judge (penalty: one unmolested free shot; guilty party must cruise with the Tooz)
• Long sleeve shirts are illegal. Tooz will remove all sleeves personally
• All hose bags must be registered with Rooster
• Drunkenness is mandatory—urine must be clear
• Rookies cannot win
• Phil Villapiano Most Disgusting Player Award will be presented to the most outrageous display of baffoonism or illicit behavior
• Ray Guy’s Poor Sportsmanship Award to the biggest shit sport.
Of course the air hockey tournament would be nothing without an appearance by San Francisco’s topless stripper, Carol Doda. She was invited by Fred Biletnikoff.
“Carol Doda, the famous topless dancer of the ’60s and ’70s was our honorary queen. I invited her to the air hockey tournament. She put her tits on the table and blocked shots with them. She was a big hit!”
Rookie night and the annual parade were two of the biggest events in Santa Rosa.
“It was a huge event,” said Banaszak. “It was like a ticker-tape parade. The guys who won the various tournaments would ride through town on the back of our pick-up trucks. Dan Connors used to drive his El Camino with a bra tied to the trailer hitch. We usually had to kick in some money to clean the place up afterwards. We’d always end up throwing food at each other.
“Rookie Night was held at a local strip club. The veterans loved it and the strippers were more than willing to welcome the newcomers to the league.”
The exploits at the El Rancho bonded the players and, at the end of training camp, the Raiders were ready to take on the season.
OAKLAND NIGHT LIFE
ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE
THE EDGEWATER WEST MOTEL was where Al Davis hosted his post-game parties. As Villapiano said, “It was one seedy place. A real dive.
“We had a great time there,” continued Phil. “It was all you could eat and drink for free. But you have to remember that the NFL was just getting started and these teams didn’t have a lot of money to spend. The Raiders were the only team that threw a full-fledged party for all the players, their family and their friends. And if you didn’t go, someone would be down your fucking throat. We all went, we all had a good time . . . and of cours
e, shit happened.
“The one great thing about the Edgewater parties was you’d get to know everyone, and that had a lot to do with the team’s camaraderie.”
John Madden liked family oriented events. The team and their families were family to the Raiders.
“Everything was always family with the team. I used to let my players and coaches bring their kids to Saturday practices for home games. I had my two kids, too. Then when we all went in to take off the pads and shower, the kids would play a game on the field—on the game field, the day before a game. Those were great practices. They were fun. You could still do that back then, you could still have fun.”
Center Steve Sylvester remembers the Tuesday afternoon golf tournaments.
“We had a two-man scramble match every Tuesday. Dave Dalby and Gene Upshaw were always partners, they both cheated, and everyone fell in line after that. Madden used to stand in front of the chalkboard that featured our twosomes and look at the matchups. He always had a towel over his shoulder and a bottle of Maalox in his hand.”
Tuesday night was considered to be Camaraderie Night, and it was mandatory that all players attend. Villapiano explains.
“Everyone had to be there; we didn’t accept excuses. We’d tell the new guys, ‘Tell your wife anything, but you gotta be there.’ No wives. No friends. No girlfriends.
“Our first stop was Big Al’s Cactus Room. It was in the middle of nowhere. During the day the downtown area would be full of life, but by nightfall there would be nothing; nobody . . . except for the Raiders. The Cactus Room would be packed with Raiders and with fans.
“Al was the sweetest man of all the bartenders. He’s also my daughter’s godfather.