Bettis gathered the defense around him. We're better than this. Come on, make your reads. The speech worked. The defense stopped the Rams early in the third quarter, but the Packer offense couldn't take advantage, a sack ending one possession and a holding penalty on Thurston scuttling another. Lombardi berated Thurston as the offense came off the field.
Damn, Fuzzy, that just kills us. Concentrate out there!
Thurston cursed Lombardi under his breath, knowing he would hear about the mistake again Tuesday morning when the team watched film of the game.
Midway through the third quarter the Rams started a series at the Green Bay 49 after a short punt by McGee. On first down defensive coach Phil Bengston smelled a pass and sent Currie rushing in, but Wade countered by retreating to pass and handing off to Matson on a draw. Matson charged into the secondary through a huge hole up the middle, shook off a tackle by Whittenton, and broke into the clear. Packer safety John Symank chased him but Matson, a former Olympic sprinter, was too fast. Legs pumping, he reached the end zone without being touched. The conversion gave the Rams a 21–6 lead.
Frustration swelled on the Packer sideline. The Rams were just so quick, and not just at the skill positions but throughout their lineup—on the lines, in the secondary, everywhere. The Packers couldn't match that speed.
Suddenly, this felt like a 1958 game, the score spiraling out of control as the Packers failed to make stops or generate offense.
On their next possession, a run by Hornung gained just two yards and Rams safety Ed Meador blanketed McGee and Knafelc on second and third downs, forcing another McGee punt. Lombardi shook his head in frustration, thinking McHan needed to do a better job of finding ways to move the ball.
The Ram offense began driving again. Arnett gained six around left end, twisted his ankle, and left the field limping, but his replacement, Tommy Wilson, was just as effective. He caught a screen pass and weaved through defenders for twenty yards, then zoomed around right end for twenty-nine. The Rams rolled deep into Packer territory and right into the end zone, taking a 28–6 lead as the fourth quarter started.
The Packer defense came off the field battered and frustrated, simply unable to stop the speedy Rams.
Fuck those guys!
We're better than this.
Lombardi shouted at the offense as it waited to start a new possession. We still have time. Let's score and put some pressure on them. Scooter McLean never had faith in the team's ability to rally in such situations. Lombardi's positive attitude had an effect. Symank returned the kickoff to midfield, and for just the second time all day, the Packer offense drove deep into Ram territory. Using rollouts to avoid the pass rush, McHan passed to Knafelc for fifteen, ran for six, and passed again to Knafelc for ten. At the Los Angeles 21, he dropped back, found McGee open in the end zone, and hit him with a perfect pass.
Again, McGee dropped the sure touchdown.
McHan lost his composure. What is it with you people? But he steadied himself and kept playing, picking up a first down on a swing pass to Hornung. The offense rolled to the 2-yard line, seemingly set to score. But Jerry Kramer jumped offside, moving the ball back five yards, and McHan was chased out of the pocket and lofted a hurried, wobbly pass for Dowler. Meador cut in front of the rookie receiver and made a diving interception.
Lombardi stopped Kramer as the offense came off the field. You're making enough mistakes by yourself to lose the game. Can't you think?
Then the Packers fell apart. Tired and sore, Hornung fumbled twice as the game wound down. Wade found Red Phillips open behind the secondary for a fifty-three-yard touchdown, and then, a few minutes later, hit Shofner for a twenty-seven-yard score. The Rams added a field goal to push the score to 45–6. This was a massacre.
The fans headed for the exits. The stands were nearly empty by the final minutes. Lombardi removed McHan, who had not performed that poorly, completing thirteen of twenty-two passes in spite of all those drops. Starr finished up, completing one pass to rookie end A. D. Williams and then misfiring on three attempts before ending the game by throwing an interception.
When the gun sounded, Lombardi walked across the field and congratulated Sid Gillman. The Rams had played superbly. They had traded nine players for Matson because they believed they were a championship contender, and if this game was any indication, they were.
But what about the Packers?
"We had a bit of a flat game," Lombardi understated when he spoke to reporters. "I don't know why, but we seemed to be extremely tense today for some reason. It's hard to understand because this was our fourth game so it shouldn't make any difference. But the Rams are a good team, the best we have played, and they had a hot game. We have no excuses. We just got rapped hard."
He paused and continued: "They put us in a hole in the first quarter and we just couldn't climb out. We dropped some key passes that would have made a difference, and we also had some penalties. So, lots of mistakes like that. I saw some good things, and we competed. And, this isn't an alibi, but we only had two healthy backs. We should be in better shape next week."
The locker room was almost silent. The players were taking a team bus back to Green Bay as soon as everyone was ready. The ride would be quiet.
"We were flatter than a pancake. We just have to bounce back," Bettis said.
"I never thought we'd get beat like that. Everything we did was wrong," McHan added.
What about the lopsided final score? Lombardi actually mustered a smile when a reporter asked.
"It makes no difference," he shrugged, "if you lose by one point or a hundred. It's still a loss."
On the ride back to Green Bay Lombardi took the right front seat, opposite the driver, and said little as the bus rolled along. As he feared, the Packers had gotten ahead of themselves with their 3–0 start. They had shortcomings, which the Rams had exposed. They were slow, inconsistent, and just mediocre in places. Their secondary had been embarrassed today. Bobby Freeman didn't cover anyone, and frankly, neither did Bobby Dillon. And what about all those dropped passes? That was just a lack of concentration.
If we don't have receivers who can catch, I'll find some who can.
The feel-good party was over. The Packers' next games were on the road against the Colts, Giants, and Bears.
In a way, their season was just beginning.
15
SINCE THE MERGER between the NFL and All-America Football Conference in 1950, the Packers' league-season schedule had followed the same pattern every year. They played most of their home games early, before the weather in Wisconsin turned nasty, and spent most of the rest of the season on the road, ending with a game at Detroit on Thanksgiving and a December trip to California to play the 49ers and Rams.
What little success the Packers had experienced during the decade had occurred early in seasons, when they were playing at home. Since 1950 they had a .425 winning percentage (17-22-1) during the first third of their schedule and just a .250 winning percentage (18-53-1) the rest of the way. In other words, it wasn't unusual for them to begin a season respectably but then fall apart.
The specter of that recent history hung in the air after the loss to the Rams. The Packers had just two home games remaining now, compared with six on the road. For the holdovers on the roster, it was impossible not to reflect on how they always stumbled at this point in the season, never more sadly than the year before, when they absorbed that 56–0 beating in Baltimore and went into the worst tailspin in their franchise's history. Now, heading back to Baltimore to play the Colts on Sunday, they wondered if it would all happen again.
Lombardi knew the defeatism he had tried to eradicate from the team was still lurking, capable of reemerging. He thought about how to handle the players in the aftermath of a bad loss, with so many tough games ahead.
His natural instinct was to give them hell. After watching films of the 45–6 loss with his staff on Monday, he knew he wouldn't be giving out any crisp bills.
Look at that, Red. What in the hell wa
s Max thinking about there?
It's hard to say, Vince. He certainly couldn't catch the ball.
Bill, the next good block Kramer makes will be his first.
I don't know what the problem is.
Is something wrong with Dillon? He isn't the player I expected.
But as horrid as the loss had been, Lombardi could rationalize it. His design for a winning team was built around having a strong running game that controlled the ball, and the Packers couldn't mount much of a ground game with Jim Taylor and Don McIlhenny out and Paul Hornung banged up. That had put more pressure on the passing game, and the receivers had an off day, dropping balls all over the place. It was left to the defense to keep the Packers close against a Rams offense undeniably on its game—sometimes you have to give credit to your opponent. And even with all that going against them, the Packers trailed by just eight points at halftime and by fifteen going into the fourth quarter. The final score made the game appear more disastrous than it really was.
This was not the time to tear down the players' confidence, Lombardi decided. It was a shaky confidence to begin with, and with so many difficult games looming, the players needed to be supported more than ripped apart. There would be a time to lay into those who deserved it, he thought. And he would make sure the players who screwed up Sunday knew it. But he wouldn't push the gas pedal all the way to the floor. Not now.
On Tuesday morning the players slunk into the film room expecting to be destroyed. Lombardi surprised them. They had played better than the score indicated, he said calmly. Instead of reviewing their mistakes, he spent much of the hourlong film session pointing out what they had done well.
"You're good enough to beat the Colts on Sunday," he concluded.
He believed it, too. McIlhenny would be back, Taylor's burns were almost healed, and the Colts, champions though they were, didn't have the Rams' all-around speed, which had caused the Packers so much trouble.
The players walked out of the film room shaking their heads. This guy was unpredictable, to say the least. Sometimes you just wanted to slug him, but other times he inspired you to dig down and play harder.
Jerry Kramer and Taylor quietly discussed Lombardi as they dressed for practice.
I thought he was going to blow the roof off in there. What's he thinking?
Hell if I know.
Like a lot of the players, they still weren't sure they believed in the new Packer coach. Even though Lombardi had them playing competitively, he could be enough of a sarcastic jerk that you wondered if you were being paid enough to put up with him. And it remained to be seen if he really had turned the team around.
That afternoon, after easing up in the film room, Lombardi turned up the pressure on the practice field. He added five minutes to the grass drill, shouted until he grew hoarse during position drills—dammit, Max, catch those on Sunday!—and ended the workout with an extra set of sprints.
You could tell which players had spent Monday night in Appleton's bars and clubs. They were throwing up.
Lamar McHan was pleased, all things considered. Playing on a new team, in a new town, for a new coach, he had won three of four games as the number one quarterback, throwing six touchdown passes and just three interceptions. The Packers were tied for first place in the Western Division. You couldn't ask for a better start.
During training camp and the exhibition season, when he didn't play well or often, he had worried about being sent back to the Cardinals, the one scenario he didn't want. It seemed clear, at least to him, that he had more going for him than any of the other quarterbacks, but you never knew what a coach might do—the Cardinals had asked him to split time with a rookie who wasn't half as good. Lombardi gave him the shot in the end, though, and now McHan was getting a chance to establish himself.
The loss to the Rams had been a major disappointment, no question; a team wasn't supposed to go into a game undefeated and lose by thirty-nine points. And McHan had lost his cool for a few minutes there, no question about that, either. But he hadn't done much with his arm in the first three games other than throw those four touchdown passes against Detroit, and he had wanted to show Lombardi what he could do in a tough situation. But guys dropped passes all over the place, and his emotions just got the best of him. He kicked himself later for letting it happen.
The season was just one-third over, though. There was plenty of time for him to show what he could do, starting with this next game against the Colts. He had never played them, not once in six years in the league. They had some superb defensive players, starting with Gino Marchetti, and obviously would be tough to beat. But if the Packers could run the ball like they did in their first three games, they could compete with the Colts. They could compete with anyone. McHan believed that.
The Packers took a charter flight to Baltimore on Friday afternoon. On this trip a year earlier they had stayed at a motel far from town as the front office cut costs. Lombardi had put a decisive end to such penny-pinching. This time, they checked into the Lord Baltimore, a French Renaissance-style landmark in the heart of downtown. They wore green blazers, ate team meals together, and went through a light workout at Memorial Stadium on Saturday before meeting a curfew that night.
The Colts had not played especially well so far in 1959 but still had won three of four games, leaving them tied with the Packers and 49ers for first place in the Western Division. They were coming off a road victory over the Bears in which they were outgained in yardage but forced six turnovers.
Bart Starr awoke Sunday morning, attended a church service near the hotel, and took the team bus to the stadium. He had spent the week preparing to play the Colts, knowing he probably wouldn't leave the sideline unless the score got out of hand, as it did against the Rams, when he got in and threw a few passes at the end. Lombardi seemed set on McHan as his number one quarterback, through good times and bad. Starr couldn't do anything about it except practice and prepare hard and keep his spirits up, all of which he did regardless of what his coach thought of him. It was disappointing, but Starr was a team player, and if his job was to back up McHan, so be it.
Still, he felt jealous as the Baltimore game started in front of fifty-seven thousand fans in sunny, fifty-degree weather—a pleasant surprise for October 25. He wanted to be on the field. His best game as a pro had come against the Colts in 1958, when he passed for more than three hundred yards as the Packers narrowly lost. Yes, the Colts had batted him around a few times, too, intercepting five of his passes in a 1957 game and swallowing him whole along with the rest of the Packers in the 56–0 rout. But his one good performance had showed him he could succeed against the NFL's best teams, and he longed for another opportunity.
Instead, he stood next to Lombardi and offered play-calling opinions as McHan tried to get the offense going.
I think Paul can get open in the L zig-out, Coach.
Think so?
I do. And when they go heavy upfront, run the sixty-one.
Lombardi didn't mind having Starr around offering suggestions. The young man spent a lot of time studying film and thinking of ways to attack defenses. It was too bad Starr was so quiet, polite, and mistake prone, Lombardi thought. He could really think his way through a game.
The crowd was frenzied in the first minutes. Colt fans had not forgotten about John Symank sending quarterback Johnny Unitas to the hospital with a knee to the ribs the year before. Unitas never blamed Symank, but local fans believed the Green Bay player had delivered a cheap shot, and now held up signs reading, "We Want Packer Blood."
A McHan fumble stopped one Packer drive in Colt territory, but on the first play of the second quarter Lew Carpenter ran left on a sweep, and when Jerry Kramer and Fred Thurston opened a hole with devastating blocks, Carpenter broke into the clear, accelerating past several bunched-up Colt defenders. He didn't slow down until he crossed the goal line, completing a fifty-five-yard touchdown run that silenced the crowd.
The score seemed to motivate Unitas, who promptl
y started pitching balls to Raymond Berry and Lenny Moore. Phil Bengston had switched around his secondary assignments, putting Bobby Freeman on Berry, but Berry confused Freeman with his precise, impossible-to-predict routes, and Bobby Dillon, who was supposed to help Freeman, went out with a concussion. The Colts moved eighty-one yards to a touchdown, got the ball back, and moved seventy-nine yards to another touchdown.
After trailing 14–7 at halftime, the Packers started the third quarter with the ball. On second down from their 19, McHan dropped back as Max McGee faked a square-out route and burst past his defender, Ray Brown. McHan arched a long pass seemingly too far ahead of McGee, but McGee sprinted all out and caught it on the run at the Baltimore 40. With only grass in front of him, he dashed to the end zone ahead of Brown as the noisy crowd abruptly fell silent.
The players on the Packer bench shouted and clapped. McGee jogged to the sidelines, smiling broadly through his single-bar face mask, still panting after the eighty-one-yard scoring play, and as always, ready with a joke.
Damn, Max! Hell of a play!
Yeah ... yeah ... guy didn't catch me, did he?
Lombardi whacked McGee on the shoulder. Way to sell that fake, Max! Beautiful! He then turned to the defensive regulars and implored them to maintain the momentum. They stopped the Colts on three plays, forcing a punt. That's the way! That's some Green Bay Packer football!
McHan and the offense trotted onto the field, taking possession on their 35. A score would put the Packers ahead, and the fans were plainly uneasy about the possibility, shifting in their seats and making little noise. The Packers sure were improved from a year ago, they thought.
Hornung ran right, behind Forrest Gregg, for two yards, and McIlhenny gained four going left. On third down, McHan called for an option pass, a play he hadn't used since the first game. He handed to Hornung, who swept right behind Kramer and Thurston, pulled up, and lobbed a pass for Gary Knafelc, open twenty yards downfield. A completion would have moved the ball into Baltimore territory, but the pass sailed well beyond Knafelc, incomplete. Hornung stood with his hands on his hips, upset to have missed such an open receiver. Damn, it was there!
That First Season: How Vince Lombardi Took the Worst Team in the NFL and Set It on the Path to Glory Page 21