McGee punted on fourth down, and the Colts' John Sample caught the kick, found a seam in the Packers' coverage, and sprinted twenty-five yards before being shoved out of bounds at the Green Bay 36. The fans awoke, encouraging Unitas to regain control of the game. He turned the good field position into a touchdown in seven plays, the score coming on a short pass to Alan Ameche. Baltimore led, 21–14.
Lombardi, McHan, and Starr debated what to run on the next series, deciding passing plays could work. On second down, McHan dropped back, looked right, and saw Knafelc open on a sideline route, but threw an abysmal pass, well short of his target. The ball flew right to Colts linebacker Bill Pellington, trailing the receiver. Pellington intercepted on the Green Bay 30, eluded the lunging Knafelc's grasp, and raced untouched to the end zone.
Lombardi kicked the ground in frustration as the crowd cheered and McHan walked off the field slowly, almost dazed, wondering how he could have thrown a ball so poorly.
Starr moved away on the sideline, avoiding what he thought might be a confrontation between the coach and quarterback, but Lombardi didn't say a word as McHan walked past on the way to the water cooler.
The offense was right back on the field after the kickoff, now down by two touchdowns. McHan, trying to stay clam, handed to Hornung and McIlhenny and picked up a pair of first downs. At midfield, he dropped back, saw no one open downfield, and threw a swing pass for Hornung, stationed in the left flat. But he threw errantly again, leading Hornung by too much, and the Colts' Ray Brown grabbed it and took off with blockers in front of him. Weaving around several tacklers, Brown appeared set to go all the way, until Carpenter tossed him to the ground at the Green Bay 18.
The crowd howled, thrilled by the big plays and dramatic momentum shift, as Brown and Carpenter fell in a dusty heap on the sideline. The game had been tied a few minutes earlier, but the Colts had blown it open. The noise swirled around McHan, who was on his knees near midfield, having failed to tackle Brown during the return.
Shit! What is wrong with me?!
As the Colts celebrated on their bench, McHan slowly rose to his feet, dusted off his pants, and trudged toward his sideline. Lombardi, palpably stewing, again didn't say a word as McHan reached the bench. They stood together, watching in silence, as Unitas quickly turned the mistake into points, hitting Berry for a touchdown.
The game had gotten away from the Packers, 35–14.
McHan tried to pass the Packers back, scrambling, improvising, boosting his yardage total, and throwing a late touchdown to Boyd Dowler to make the final score more respectable, 38–21. The Packers had given away five fumbles and four interceptions, ruining their shot at an upset.
Furious, Lombardi slammed the locker room door shut after the game. He picked up a towel and slammed it down.
We're as good as they are and you damn well know it! You better start showing some guts and desire!
He kicked a metal locker, the hollow clang echoing in a silent locker room.
If you don't there are going to be a lot of changes around here! I can guarantee you that.
Speaking more calmly to reporters a few minutes later, Lombardi praised Unitas, who had also beaten Lombardi's team in the championship game a year earlier. "He's the greatest I ever saw," Lombardi said flatly. "He does everything well and he had himself a great day today." Asked if he wanted to elaborate on his "greatest I ever saw" statement, Lombardi shook his head no. "That speaks for itself," he said.
He also complimented McHan, who had compiled more passing yardage than Unitas but also thrown four interceptions.
"He's going to be a great one for us someday," Lombardi said. "He's starting to take charge despite the fact that he's not entirely familiar with his team yet."
But Lombardi was less charitable about the quarterback in private when he discussed the game with his assistants.
Four interceptions! We just gave it away! We can't have that! We have to be more sound at that position!
When Lombardi watched films of the Baltimore game back in Green Bay on Monday, he saw a lot of mistakes—penalties, fumbles, blown assignments. McHan had thrown into heavy coverage on interceptions.
He lashed out at the quarterback in the film session on Tuesday.
Did you think your arm was so strong you could throw the ball right through all those defenders, McHan?
No, Coach.
Did you see them? I'm asking, did you see them?
Yes, Coach.
Well, dammit, read the play! Read your keys! Read the coverage! Think out there, McHan! That was just dumb. We can't afford to be dumb.
Yes, Coach.
Of the many mistakes, one especially infuriated Lombardi. On the interception in the third quarter that changed the game, Lew Carpenter was supposed to run a downfield pass route out of the backfield, occupying the linebacker on his side, the Colts' Bill Pellington. But when the ball was snapped, Carpenter, fearing a red-dog, stayed in to block. That left Pellington without anyone to cover, and he slid sideways to help cover Knafelc. McHan's toss was off-target and sailed right to Pellington, but the linebacker wasn't supposed to be near the play.
Lombardi blistered Carpenter with sarcasm in the film session.
Carpenter, do you think we design plays because we think you might want to try it our way?
No reply.
Do you think it's a good idea to ignore your assignment and just make up some goddamn thing to do?
No, sir.
Well, it sure looks like you do think that's a good idea. Because you did it on this play, and because you did, a man intercepted a pass and ran it in and we lost a game we could have won.
Silence.
So the next time you're inclined to ignore your assignment and make up some half-assed thing, do you think you will?
No, Coach.
I'm not sure I believe you. Let's look at this play again, everyone. Let's look at the interception that killed us because Carpenter thought he was so smart and didn't do his job.
The room was silent except for the clicks of the projector buttons Lombardi manipulated to rewind the film and show the play again.
Are you watching, Carpenter?
Yes, Coach.
Later, after the film session, Carpenter, a quiet veteran, was consoled by his teammates as he dressed for practice.
Hang in there, Lew. We've all been there.
Yeah. He acts like I was intentionally trying to lose the game or something, the asshole.
Yeah.
What a prick. He can shove that projector right up his ass.
Lombardi had circled the Packers' next game as a special occasion from the moment he saw it on the schedule. They would play in his hometown, New York, against his former team, the Giants, on Sunday, November 1, at Yankee Stadium. He told reporters it was just another game, but no one believed him. He had lived and coached in and around New York for his entire life until now. He wanted to go back and show how well he was doing on his own. Earl Blaik would be watching. Jim Lee Howell and his former players would be on the other sideline. His father, Harry, and other family members would be in the stands. How could it be just another game?
The Giants, he knew, would be a tough opponent, especially at home. Still running his offense and Tom Landry's defense, they led the Eastern Division with a 4–1 record. Their defense hit hard and yielded grudgingly, as the Packers had discovered when the Giants shut them out in their exhibition game in Maine. Frank Gifford was out with broken ribs, but thirty-eight-year-old Charlie Conerly was having another strong season at quarterback, and he was surrounded by playmakers.
The Packers, meanwhile, had issues—a growing list. McHan had emerged from the Baltimore game with a sore right shoulder; Lombardi kept him out of throwing drills all week, expecting the soreness to disappear by Sunday. The secondary had been picked apart in the past two games. And although Jim Taylor's burns were healed enough for him to practice and suit up on Sunday, his doctor said he couldn't carry a heavy load. The backfi
eld was still short-handed.
Lombardi drove the players hard during the week, shouting in practice and jamming his chalk into the board so violently it shattered. His players sensed he was uptight. When Hornung moved before the snap during a drill, he stopped practice to berate the Golden Boy, loudly making a scene.
Can you count to three, Hornung?
Yes, sir.
Let's hear it.
Hornung didn't respond, unsure if the coach was serious.
He was.
COUNT TO THREE, HORNUNG!!
One, two, three, Coach!
Good. That's easy, right? Don't get confused when we're running a damn play.
Early Sunday morning in his suite at the Hotel Manhattan, Lombardi stared at his image in a mirror and adjusted his tie. Every thing had to be just right. It was a big day. He remembered the Packers and Giants playing NFL championship games in the late 1930s and early 1940s, when he was coaching at St. Cecelia's. The rivalry had diminished with the teams now in different divisions, but it was still a couple of old lions.
He had put on a dark worsted wool suit, one of his favorites. His camelhair overcoat would go on top. Nice. Looking good.
Get that tie just right.
He had enjoyed his weekend, hosting a Five O'clock Club party in the suite, entertaining Big Apple writers with tales from Green Bay, and visiting with Blaik before Army played Air Force at Yankee Stadium on Saturday. Marie had enjoyed herself immensely. They had eaten well, seen family and friends. The game might not be as much fun, he feared. The Giants could batter his young team. The Packers had some good things going for them, but he needed more time to put together a team that could go on the road and beat a winning veteran team like this.
Lombardi took an elevator down, strode purposefully across the lobby, and boarded the team bus. On the twenty-minute ride out to the stadium, he sat upright in the front row, opposite the driver, staring ahead with a stern expression, like a general leading his army into battle. No one dared speak to him.
During warm-ups he chatted on the field with Gifford, who wasn't dressed, and also visited with Landry, a good friend. They agreed it would be an interesting day. Before kickoff, Lombardi told the players they would need to give their best physical effort of the season.
The Giants are damn tough. But so are we. Hit them!
McHan tried to run the ball on the first possession. Hornung swept right, but Sam Huff, the Giants' agile middle linebacker, broke through and tackled him for a loss. Then Carpenter ran between Gregg and Jim Ringo, but Rosey Grier, the massive defensive tackle, shed the blocks and stood Carpenter straight up before slamming him to the ground. The crowd of sixty-eight thousand loved the big hit, sending up a cheer.
On third down, McHan dropped back, saw no receivers open, turned, and tossed an outlet pass toward Hornung in the left flat. The Golden Boy was wide open but McHan threw the ball over his head.
McHan shook his head and trotted off the field, chalking up the mistake to jitters. Lombardi shouted at him. Come on, McHan. Hit those passes. Take what they're giving us.
The Packer defense started well. Dave Hanner and Henry Jordan stopped fullback Mel Triplett for no gain. Dan Currie fought off a block and tackled halfback Alex Webster on a sweep. Tom Bettis red-dogged and forced Conerly into a hurried incompletion.
But the Packers' second offensive possession went no better. McIlhenny ran left on a sweep but Huff and Harlan Svare shot past Kramer and Thurston and tackled the runner for a loss. Hornung tried to find a hole by Forrest Gregg, but the Giants' Jim Katcavage eluded the block and slammed into Hornung. On third down McHan again missed an open receiver, forcing another punt. Lombardi paced the sideline, his frustration evident. We have to hit those throws. We have to do something.
He started to think about pulling McHan, who looked like a quarterback who hadn't thrown all week because of a sore shoulder.
Late in the first quarter, with the game still scoreless, a Giant punt rolled deep into Packer territory, stopping at the 3. On second down, McHan handed to McIlhenny on a slant play off left guard. Svare beat Kramer and hit McIlhenny in the chest. The ball popped loose and Giants tackle Dick Modzelewski fell on it. It happened so quickly some fans didn't see it. They clapped, surprised, when a referee signaled that the Giants had the ball. What a gift! Just three yards from the end zone!
Conerly knelt in the Giants' offensive huddle and called for a left sweep, still using Lombardi's terminology. Webster took the handoff and rolled into the end zone behind a pair of clearing blocks. Kicker Pat Summerall's extra point put the Giants up, 7–0. The crowd didn't make much noise. It was so easy.
Early in the second quarter McHan tried Hornung, Carpenter, and McIlhenny going left, right, and up the middle. Defenders filled every hole. As Lombardi had feared, Grier and Andy Robustelli were too quick for Thurston and Norm Masters, Gregg couldn't budge Katcavage, and Huff read plays and moved to stop them before Ringo could get to him. And without a running game, McHan looked lost. The Giant secondary blanketed his receivers, and McHan either threw into coverage or misfired on outlet tosses. It was a miracle he wasn't intercepted.
Increasingly agitated on the sideline, Lombardi finally had seen enough by the middle of the second quarter.
Francis!
The reserve quarterback raced up, helmet in hand.
Yes, Coach?
Get warmed up. You're going in for Lamar.
"Pineapple Joe" grabbed a ball and began to throw on the sideline. McHan nodded when told of the change, knowing he wasn't one hundred percent.
Standing near Lombardi, Starr sagged. He couldn't believe the younger, inexperienced Francis was getting the shot before him.
Lombardi stared out at the field, jaw set. Francis had faded into the background recently, but had played well in the exhibition season. Lombardi had kept him around for a situation such as this, when the offense was stymied and needed a spark. Francis, with his natural athleticism, might be able to make a play and get things going. The circumstances called for his boldness more than Starr's deliberate approach.
When the Packers got the ball back, Lombardi sent not only Francis onto the field but Jim Taylor, seeing action for the first time since the second week of the season. Francis tried a different tactic, throwing to the backs rather than handing the ball to them. A pair of completions to McIlhenny picked up a first down. Then Taylor gained eleven yards off left tackle, as Masters opened a hole. Francis scrambled for seven after finding no receiver open. Lombardi nodded. Yes, yes, just what I thought might happen. Francis moved the offense deeper into New York territory than it had been all day. But the Giant defense finally made a stop, cutting through blocks to bring down runners before they got going. Hornung kicked a twenty-nine-yard field goal.
Lombardi nodded at Francis as the offense came off the field.
Good job, excellent, way to get things going.
After Summerall kicked a field goal to put the Giants up, 10–3, Francis again moved the offense. Hornung made a lunging catch to gain twenty yards. Francis passed to Knafelc on a square-out for seventeen. A tripping penalty moved the ball to the New York 17 with a minute left in the half. A touchdown would tie the score, giving the Packers a huge lift considering how badly they had been outplayed.
Hornung and Francis ran the ball down to the 8. On third down, Francis rolled right and threw for McGee on a curl route just over the goal line, but the pass sailed high, incomplete. Hornung stayed on to try a fourteen-yard field goal with a few seconds left. Lombardi counted on the three points, but the Golden Boy banged the easy kick off the left upright. The crowd gave its loudest roar of the day as the teams jogged to the locker rooms. All that work for nothing, ha!
The Packers were relieved to be just seven points down at halftime. Lombardi, encouraged by the spark Francis had provided, sat with the young quarterback and discussed how to get the offense into the end zone. Coming back onto the field for the second half, the Packers thought they had a shot at
an upset.
But the Giants came out with a renewed sense of purpose. Howell and Landry didn't want to lose to Lombardi. The Giant offense drove downfield on its first series of the second half, using Lombardi's plays to crush him. Webster sprinted behind Bobby Freeman on a swing route, caught Conerly's pass in stride, and picked up thirty-two yards. Then Webster got behind Freeman again and the frustrated defender grabbed the receiver. The interference penalty moved the ball to the Green Bay 7, and Webster swept to a touchdown around right end. The Giants had a 17–3 lead.
The Packers were in trouble, needing two touchdowns against a defense they had barely dented. When Francis missed two passes, Lombardi yanked him for McHan, going with the better thrower. But the Giants, knowing McHan had to pass, fiercely red-dogged him, forcing him to scramble and throw hurriedly. Quickly realizing McHan wouldn't be leading any comebacks, Lombardi went back to Francis, hoping the athletic youngster could make plays. Starr, bypassed again, moved away from Lombardi and watched Francis spray incompletions. Summerall booted a forty-five-yard field goal late in the third quarter to put the Giants up 20–3.
Lombardi was a forlorn figure on the sideline in the fourth quarter, the brim of his hat pulled low, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his overcoat, his team knocked cold. The Packers weren't ready for Broadway.
Starr was beyond disappointed. It had crushed him to see Lombardi sub in Francis for McHan—not once but twice!
A loyal team guy and military officer's son, Starr believed in the chain of command; you didn't second-guess your coach, especially one as shrewd as Lombardi. But as he watched Francis try to rally the Packers, he couldn't help entertaining dark thoughts. Did he belong in pro football? If, in his fourth season, he couldn't even beat out a raw, second-year guy for a number two spot, maybe he needed to accept that he just wasn't going to have much of a career.
That First Season: How Vince Lombardi Took the Worst Team in the NFL and Set It on the Path to Glory Page 22