America's Trailblazing Middle Linebacker: The Story of NFL Hall of Famer Willie Lanier [Illustrated] 1538109514, 9781538109519

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A M E R ICA ’ S TRAIL B LAZING M ID DLE L INEBAC KER

A M E R ICA ’ S TRAIL B LAZING M ID DLE L INEBAC KER

The Story of NFL Hall of Famer Willie Lanier Joe Zagorski

ROWMAN & LITTLEFIELD Lanham • Boulder • New York • London

Published by Rowman & Littlefield An imprint of The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706 www.rowman.com 6 Tinworth Street, London SE11 5AL Copyright © 2020 by The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Zagorski, Joe, author. Title: America's Trailblazing Middle Linebacker : the Story of NFL Hall of Famer Willie Lanier / Joe Zagorski. Description: Lanham : Rowman & Littlefield, [2020] | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Summary: “This book explores the life and times of pro football's first African American middle linebacker, Willie Lanier. Lanier was a Super Bowl champion, an eight-time All-Pro, and NFL's Man of the Year in 1972. This book delves into Lanier's college and NFL exploits and discusses his many successes off the gridiron, providing an inspiration for others”—Provided by publisher. Identifiers: LCCN 2019043434 (print) | LCCN 2019043435 (ebook) | ISBN 9781538109519 (cloth) | ISBN 9781538109526 (epub) Subjects: LCSH: Lanier, Willie, 1945– | African American football players—Biography. | Linebackers (Football)—United States—Biography. | Racism in sports—United States—History. | National Football League—History. Classification: LCC GV939.L36 Z34 2020 (print) | LCC GV939.L36 (ebook) | DDC 796.332092 [B]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019043434 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019043435

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The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

To all those who—like Willie Lanier—never give up on their dreams.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments Introduction 1 A Common Beginning for an Uncommon Man

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2 A Chance to Play Pro Football

23

3 Coming Close to a Title

47

4 The Challenges of 1969

71

5 The 1969 AFL Playoffs

91

6 The Super Chiefs

113

7 To Be Champions Again

131

8 The Longest Game

147

9 To Retire or Not to Retire

165

10 A Business Suit and the Real World

183

11 The Pro Football Hall of Fame

193

Conclusion: Final Musings from a Trailblazer

205

Notes

217

Bibliography

233

Index

239

About the Author

245

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank several important people who have helped me out quite a lot with this book. They are listed in random order, and each one has been very important in making the completion of this book possible. Bob Moore, the official historian of the Kansas City Chiefs, was extremely helpful to me. He is one of the most knowledgeable men alive when discussing the history of the Chiefs, and his recollections of the playing career of Willie Lanier were invaluable in lending scope and factual information. He was also a much needed conduit for me to the Kansas City Chiefs football team. Most of the photos in this book are thanks to Bob Moore and the Chiefs. Speaking of photographs, Tricia Gesner of AP Images has been a big help to me for each of the three books I have written. Tucker DiEdwardo of Globe Photos, LLC, also deserves my thanks. A couple of friends of mine at NFL Films provided me with plenty of help. Chris Willis is the company’s chief archivist and historian, and his willingness to provide me with important films and interview transcripts of the Chiefs and Willie Lanier, Len Dawson, and Jim Lynch were hugely important to the completion of this book. Todd Schmidt of NFL Films was also important, thanks largely to his work on numerous films throughout the years, some of which he made available to me. Chris Willis is also a noteworthy pro football author, and it was he who put me in touch with Christen Karniski of Rowman & Littlefield. ix

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Christen and her editorial staff shepherded this book from its origins of acceptance, to its “middle days,” and to its final draft. A lot of thanks go to her for giving me advice and helping with the many different chapters and challenges of this book. Jon Kendle, a research historian at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio, was vital in helping this book reach its finished state. Jon offered me access to many volumes of published newspaper files and interviews, and my time spent at the Hall’s Ralph Wilson Jr. Pro Football Research and Preservation Center provided me with the framework this book needed. A special thanks also goes to Pete Fierle, who like Jon, wears many hats at the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And a very special thanks goes to the president and CEO of the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Mr. David Baker. Former pro and college teammates and opponents of Willie Lanier’s, such as, Raymond Chester, Joe DeLamielleure, Johnny Robinson, and Mark Washington, were also helpful in offering me unique and personal stories and anecdotes about the great Morgan State University and Kansas City Chiefs middle linebacker. Lamar Hunt, the late Kansas City team owner and founder of the American Football League, also unselfishly gave me several moments of his free time when I interviewed him in 1985. Thanks to the members of the Pro Football Researchers Association (PFRA). The PFRA has been around since the mid-1980s, and I have been fortunate to learn about the history of the game from such PFRA members as Ken Crippen, Lee Elder, Mark L. Ford, John Grasso, John Hogrogian, John Maxymuk, Rupert Patrick, Andy Piasik, and Ivan Urena (among others). These men have put a microscope to virtually every aspect of pro football history, and their disseminated information regarding the sport has done much to celebrate the NFL’s past. T. J. Troup also has several decades of pro football knowledge in his portfolio. The former college coach and current pro football film and data expert—and pro football author in his own right—has been very helpful to the completion of my own research. His willingness to show me statistical comparisons between Willie Lanier and other famous

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middle linebackers has helped me add necessary information to several chapters of this book. Thanks to the Morgan State University Athletic Department, and to Morgan State Public Relations and Communications Director Clinton Coleman. Thanks also to Larry Jones of Morgan State University for his help. A big thanks to the staff of Vokal Media, Inc., for their help with the Talk of Fame network podcasts, which they graciously made available to me. Thanks also to the following men who have given me a boost of inspiration when I needed it most: Pro football author Michael MacCambridge has been undeniably the greatest writer of the sport for the past several decades, and his advice has been invaluable to me. John Thorn is best known for his historical knowledge of Major League Baseball, but his knowledge of pro football is also top-notch. I thank him for a solid dose of momentum whenever I hit a wall. The late Frank Sassaman was a childhood friend of mine, and our many conversations about football and great players like Willie Lanier return to my mind when I need them most. The late Ed and Steve Sabol of NFL Films gave me my first reason to fall in love with the sport, and Joe Horrigan at the Pro Football Hall of Fame has given me important advice for the past 35 years. Last but never least, I want to thank my late parents, Stephen and Natalie Zagorski, for giving me a great childhood, filled with great and happy memories. My love to them always. Joe Zagorski December 2018.

INTRODUCTION

Sports biographies have been around in the United States for many decades. Virtually every area of information on the people involved in those biographies has been addressed in many different ways throughout the years. The challenge to any writer is to make his or her biographical subject seem unique. The particular subject of this book was unwilling to participate in this project, but I had no difficulties in obtaining information on him. I relied on numerous interviews from a wide variety of public source documents to account for many of his quotes throughout the years. Many of his words and actions never even made it into this book. That is because Willie Lanier is one of the most unique individuals in pro football history. His vast number of accomplishments on the gridiron are just a part of his matchless narrative. One reoccurring theme of this book centers on the fact that he would have been a success story regardless of which occupation(s) he chose to follow. Today in his 70s, Lanier has accrued more noteworthy achievements in many different vocations than two or three people combined—maybe even more. The listing of those exploits takes time to recite, and they run the gamut from professional football player, to college graduate student, to stockbroker, to movie actor, to business CEO—you get the idea. Where most people have a “bucket list” of items that they want to complete or accomplish before they die, Willie Lanier has several xiii

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“bucket lists.” It is of note that he has already checked off many of the items on those lists. Perhaps the most important and accurate description of Lanier is that of a trailblazer. He was mature enough and intelligent enough at an early age to never accept the established norms that permeated American society as being the final word on anything. He would look for a new road, and it would be a different path—always challenging and sometimes strewn with voices from those proclaiming their dissent. His decisions and actions throughout his life were and are indicative of a man who was (and is) continually seeking how things can be done better, how success can be achieved, and how to best maneuver past and sometimes through the roadblocks and detours in the modern world. If he was slated to be the first person to achieve a certain level of success and thus serve as a glowing example for others, then so be it. He is very capable of standing out and representing what worlds can be conquered. Lanier started blazing the trails in his life by making the most of his own talents. But he also worked and sweated to achieve a means to an end. A majority of the citizens in the United States during the 20th century knew the value and rewards of hard work, and Willie was no different. Of all the adjectives one could use to accurately describe him, “lazy” would definitely not be one of them. He may have bulked up his muscles by regularly lifting weights in high school and college, but he also lifted plenty of textbooks during those years. Lanier earned good grades by reading and studying, and finding value in books and paying attention in his classes. By the time Lanier became a professional football player, he already possessed a firm foundation of learning. By that time, he would also own a public speaker’s prowess, as well as a stellar ability to debate and discuss his viewpoints on many subjects, and always with a sense of dash and verbal artistry. Another common theme of his story involves his efforts to constantly soak up knowledge he could draw from and use every single day. He would continue to build on that foundation of knowledge with every new challenge during the course of his life.

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One of those challenges had its origin in something Lanier had no say in when he was born. The blight of racism in the United States, particularly in the Southern states, was still visibly evident for any openminded person to witness during the early years of Lanier’s life. The ugliness of the specter of one group of people being treated differently than another group of people, based solely on the fact that the former group had a different skin color, would leave an indelible impression on the youthful Lanier. Whether he realized it at such a young age, Lanier knew prejudice had no part in the “American way” or the “American dream.” The America of Lanier’s youth attempted to keep the promise of ample opportunities for all of her citizens. To achieve one’s dreams in this nation, all one had to do was have a dream—and work your butt off. By the time Lanier left his home state of Virginia and traveled to Maryland for college, he was destined to experience a positive change in his life. He wanted to do whatever he could to live a life that would prove that many people—and, indeed, many stereotypes—were indelibly wrong and inaccurate. Lanier also proved something else along the way, the result of which provided a springboard for so many other good things in his life. He proved that he was one heck of a football player. He excelled on the gridiron at linebacker while at Morgan State University in Baltimore, Maryland—so much so, in fact, that he was named most valuable player in the 1966 Tangerine Bowl in Orlando, Florida. That was quite a feat, considering that most MVP awards during that era were seemingly always reserved for offensive and not defensive players. Once again, Lanier proved to be too good on the football field to be ignored, at least by some onlookers. But the prevailing belief among college and pro football personnel alike in the 1960s stated that the players who attended the bigger colleges were better than the players who went to smaller schools. As a result, the players from the Division I schools received much more attention from the vast majority of pro scouts. Indeed, small schools like Morgan State would often see pro scouts show up later in the season and usually only after the scouts were done observing players from a larger school that happened to be nearby. In

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Lanier’s case, the pro scouts would spend more time at the nearby University of Maryland in College Park than at Morgan State. Lanier started to see a trend forming in his life: overcome one stereotype or bad break and another one would immediately swoop in and take its place. Rather than getting discouraged at the onset of this trend, however, Lanier accepted the new challenge and used it as motivation. He then proceeded to once again ignite a high level of determination within himself, and that special brand of “Lanier determination” would eventually defeat the obstacles and prove the stereotypes false, over and over again. Pro football scouting was an inexact science during the 1960s. Many people say it still is. Some teams performed their scouting duties better than others a couple of generations ago, but new ideas were starting to show themselves. Teams like the Dallas Cowboys and the Kansas City Chiefs were spending more and more time at the smaller schools throughout the nation, especially south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Scouting gurus Gil Brandt of Dallas and Lloyd Wells of Kansas City were employed to currycomb the countryside and visit as many small colleges as possible. To his credit, Wells scanned through a wealth of historic black colleges during the 1960s, knowing full well that American Football League (AFL) teams were much more willing to sign African American talent than National Football League (NFL) teams. Kansas City head coach Hank Stram maintained a strong personal belief that it didn’t matter what a player looked like or what his collegiate background was. Stram wanted players who could play well in the pros and help his team win games. It was a refreshing outlook to be sure, during a time when racial strife was enveloping many parts of the country. Because the pro football draft in that era would often last for 17 rounds, Lanier held a pretty strong feeling he was going to get drafted by a team in one of the two leagues in 1967. What he was not sure of was which team would select him and in which round he would be chosen. Lanier had to wait until late in the second round before he was contacted about the results of his selection. The Kansas City Chiefs

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were not really sure what they would be getting when they drafted the fairly unknown linebacker from Morgan State, but within a short period of time, they would become gleeful at their discovery. Lanier would become the missing piece of Kansas City’s defensive puzzle, and a competitive team would become a dominant team in the span of just a few months. The journey to a starting position for Lanier was one of the first hurdles he would face in pro football. Naturally, he would do what he did best. He would rely on the accumulated knowledge from earlier in his life and work his butt off. His excellence soon shined on the sweltering summer Kansas City Chiefs practice fields at William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri. Lanier would eventually be named the team’s starting middle linebacker in 1967, something unheard-of in either league in a player’s rookie year. But when you mention the fact that Lanier became the first African American middle linebacker in pro football history, you have a historical event. It was indeed a breakthrough in the racial tenor and the makeup of those times. Lanier did not disappoint. His label of greatness stands undeniably firm and etched in the annals of the pro game forever, as evidenced by his enshrinement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Yet, that was just one more hurdle. He would face more challenges in pro football. He would leap over some roadblocks with no problems, and others would force him to take a roundabout way to achieve success. Still others would sometimes force him to face his own fallibility and his team’s own reality. Regardless of the results he recorded in the sport, Willie Lanier would have the happiness and the satisfaction of knowing that he gave it his best, and to many onlookers familiar with his story, that would be good enough. The challenges Lanier had to face would not stop after he left pro football in 1977, however. After his retirement, he faced different types of challenges, of the sort Lanier had never dealt with before. Where do you go when you have to start a new career? Is there something you can devote the rest of your life to, to make a living? Can any new occupation provide at least a little taste of the sense of fulfillment and excitement of

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pro football? These and other pertinent questions weighed moderately on Lanier’s mind in the years before his retirement from the sport, and they were present after he exited the game. In recent years, many Americans have had to deal with abrupt career changes due to a floundering economy and a lack of good, decent-paying jobs. Many can find solace in the examples of Willie Lanier’s life after pro football, observing that he too faced many of the same challenges. His decision to go back to college to attend graduate courses would eventually open the door to the rest of his life. It would be a life of more fulfilled promises, more glorious successes, and also more decisions to make. Lanier’s decision to don a business suit after he completed his pro football career would not surprise too many people who knew him well. His analytical mind was well-suited for such subjects as finance, the stock market, and real estate. He now had the education to back up his beliefs and methods. He was now a famous former athlete by this stage in his still-young life. His name and face were recognizable in the public eye, and that fringe benefit of celebrity from playing pro football was not lost on Lanier. He used it as an assist in achieving still more success in his journey in the business world. But his pro football shadow would be overcome on occasion by Lanier’s abilities, knowledge, and work ethic in corporate America. The myriad of people who worked with Lanier in the 1980s and beyond would soon come to realize that this man was, first and foremost, a solid businessman with a solid business background. He just happened to be one who previously played pro football. In the United States, respect among your peers has to be earned. It had to be earned when Willie Lanier was just starting out in his postfootball career, and it still has to be earned today. A person’s fame does not guarantee that respect. Lanier would be the first to tell you it should not be guaranteed. Lanier had to earn respect as an African American in a business world that in the 20th century was dominated by Caucasians. He would again succeed in this environment by using the same methods he had used throughout his life: hard work, dedication to obtaining increasingly more knowledge, and an insatiable desire to be

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the best he could be at any given job. Lanier expressed a strong faith in courageously stepping out on his own, despite the incomplete puzzle settling before him, which, in time, would become his future. “You’re the first one taking steps going forward,” Lanier once remarked. “You don’t have anybody to give you answers to questions. But you believe that there’s importance in your quest. So, therefore, you are engaged in trying to get to a future to see whether it really made sense to you.” 1 As you read this book, you might come to the conclusion that a biography on Willie Lanier is long overdue. An inspirational narrative like his is always timely, especially in this era, when young minority citizens continue to search for direction in their lives. You might also notice the repeating trends and patterns in Lanier’s life, most of which have been related to his struggles and victories, and the choices he made to find success in the midst of the situations he faced, from the time he first began making tackles on a football field to his time as a CEO. He accepted the roadblocks in his life as challenges that were important in telling his story, because those challenges helped to make him the man he is today. They helped to make him a trailblazer.

1 A COMMON BEGINNING FOR AN UNCOMMON MAN

Willie Edward Lanier was born on August 21, 1945, in the small, rural town of Clover in Halifax County, Virginia. He did not spend much time there, however. Hardly any time, in fact. Lanier’s mother, Florine, was only visiting her parents in Clover when she gave birth to Willie. The future Hall of Fame middle linebacker for the Kansas City Chiefs actually spent his youth in the much larger city of Richmond—the capital of Virginia. In retrospect, it was probably better for the budding youngster to grow up in Richmond, mainly because Clover possessed so few cultural and career opportunities. Clover’s population is listed in the 2010 census as a whopping 438 people. In the 1950 census, it was a mere 274 people. But even if there were thousands of families that hailed from Clover in the past century, it is doubtful that any of their sons would have accomplished as much as Willie Lanier has accomplished throughout his life. His story represents an example of the famous Horatio Alger “rags-to-riches” chronicle, the one that gives credence to the United States being labeled the “Land of Opportunity.” It was (and still is) a nation where a young man coming from a poor or modest childhood can somehow, with pluck, desire, and hard work, climb to the top of the wealth and society ladders. The United States was (and still is) a country where anything is possible. Willie Lanier stands out as a living and truthful validation of that axiom. 1

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There is not too much that is publicly known about Lanier’s childhood. His father, Robert Lanier Sr., was a shipping clerk for an electrical supply company, and his mother was a beautician. They were responsible and dedicated parents who worked hard to provide for their children. “We had the necessities and a few luxuries,” recalled Willie. “We had a nice home, clean clothes, and good food. We didn’t want for anything. My parents were religious people and strict. They stressed the difference between right and wrong. But beyond that, they gave us a lot of personal freedom to grow up in our own ways.” 1 Willie grew up with a younger sister and two older brothers. Like many kids in the mid-20th century, sports would occupy much of his and his brothers’ free time outside of school. He attended the segregated Maggie L. Walker High School, one of the more popular high schools in the commonwealth. While there, Lanier played football for the Mighty Green Dragons under head coach Fred “Cannonball” Cooper. Standing at approximately six feet tall, his size was common for young men in their teens in the early 1960s, and there were some players on the scholastic football teams throughout the state during those years who may have been bigger, faster, and stronger than Lanier. This would be just one of the early times that Lanier would be standing against odds of one sort or another. Not surprisingly, his shortcomings only served to make him try harder, spend more time working at his craft, and develop his own avenues to better obtain success. That formula for achievement suited him well both on and off the football field. He was a studious student in the scholastic environment at Maggie L. Walker High, and he would wisely recognize the importance of every subject as a piece to the puzzle. On the football field during his high school days, Lanier quickly came to the realization that whoever hits the hardest usually has a better chance of neutralizing his opponent. Thus, his legacy of legendary hits had their origins during his teenage years on the grass and dirt football fields of Richmond, Virginia. He eventually bulked up to 205 pounds, and people started to take notice of him. Several of Lanier’s

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hits resulted in some of his adversaries leaving the gridirons with such injuries as shoulder separations and broken legs. “The one [hit] that stands out most in my mind was made against Leroy Keyes while I was still in high school,” Lanier recalled. I was a senior, and Leroy was only a freshman, but he was still a star at the time. I was playing linebacker, and he was running a sweep. I came from the other side of the field and hit him just as he was making his cut up the field. I hit him harder than I’ve ever hit anyone. As I was getting off him he looked at me and said, “Where did you come from?” He stayed in the game for the rest of the half, but he didn’t play the last half. 2

The Walker football teams during Lanier’s time there were hardhitting squads, and they were very competitive. They lost only three games while Lanier suited up for them and went undefeated during Willie’s senior year. Just like today, high school football teams throughout the country in the 1960s would put their best players in starting positions on both offense and defense. Lanier easily fell into that category, playing as both a guard and a linebacker. He got his first lessons on how offensive lines operate while playing on offense in high school, and that knowledge would help him as he began to excel while playing on defense. “I had a history, I guess, going back to high school,” said Lanier. “It’s interesting looking back at my history. I had an instinctive understanding of how to play that position [linebacker]. That was something my high school coach saw. My high school coach told me I had this great lateral move, and he made me a linebacker my senior year in high school.” 3 The moves of the Mighty Green Dragons would eventually enable them to win the Virginia IA Group I Football Championship in 1962. Willie played a big role on that team, and the championship would give him a taste of victory the likes of which he had never savored before. But it did not satisfy him. He knew there was always something more— some other level of victory or success he wanted to experience, and his

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desire to reach that level would be a hallmark of his entire life. He just kept reaching for a higher rung on his life’s career ladder. Young people in the United States crave recognition and attention, regardless of its source. A youthful Willie Lanier was no different. Be it at home, in the classroom, or on a football field, being favorably recognized by adults for one’s accomplishments has always been a major factor in inspiring any youngster. It is as true today as it was in the 1960s. But in the mostly African American schools of Richmond, notoriety of any sort was rare in the 1960s. Unfortunately, the lack of college football scouts visiting the high schools in that area kept a lot of promising young minority athletes from playing college football and, worse, obtaining a post–high school education. “Many black high school athletes don’t get much publicity,” confirmed Lanier in 1971. “But the possibility of becoming players at colleges such as Morgan State and Grambling, where they’d get the exposure, is something exciting for young boys to look forward to. I played at a high school in Richmond, Virginia. We won 18 straight games, but we didn’t get much publicity.” 4 Lanier graduated from Maggie L. Walker High School in 1963, but just before he did, he was faced with a choice. At least a few football recruiters throughout Virginia were vying with one another to see which college would be fortunate enough to secure the services of this special and talented student-athlete. Lanier received at least one scholarship offer, 5 and he had a major decision to make. He did not make a hasty choice, however. He did his research and quietly compiled information. He finally enrolled at Virginia State College, after being offered a sports scholarship there. Lanier would never attend that school, however. Before the summer of 1963 was over, he was having second thoughts. You might want to call it buyer’s remorse, but leering in the background was a matter Lanier could not control. The ugly specter of racism was showing itself in the city of Richmond and, indeed, throughout Virginia and many other Southern states. It was hard to find an African American citizen in the 1950s and 1960s who had not overheard the “n” word directed at

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them, a friend, or relative at least once in their lives. Lanier was probably not the exception to this hateful norm. Fortunately, the civil rights movement in the United States was developing and gaining momentum at the time Lanier finished high school, in the hopes that racism in all its destructive forms would one day be eliminated throughout the nation. But until that hoped for day arrived, Lanier had come to the realization that the Northern states were more integrated and more understanding of the plight of African Americans than the Southern states. Like a lot of African Americans, Lanier saw a more tolerant and more forbearing racial climate in the North. Maybe just as importantly, Northern states offered more economic and educational opportunities for minorities. Lanier eventually decided to rescind his earlier acceptance of a scholarship at Virginia State College. Even in his youth, Lanier was a young man who fostered strong principles in his life. By changing his mind as to which college to attend, he was actually proving he had the courage to change his mind—indeed, the courage of his convictions—in the hopes that his next decision would work out better for his future. Morgan State University, in Baltimore, Maryland, was a historic black college that appealed to the young Willie Lanier in the summer of 1963. He decided to enroll there with the goal of gaining an undergraduate degree in business. But there was still the tugging of football seizing his heart. In the last week of July, Lanier made a phone call to Earl “Papa Bear” Banks, the head football coach at Morgan State. Banks had heard of Lanier and knew he was a good athlete. According to newspaper reporter Paul Woody of the Richmond Times-Dispatch in a February 13, 1998, interview with Lanier, the young linebacker told Banks he wanted to enroll at Morgan State and play football. “He (Banks) told me there was no scholarship available,” recalled Lanier, “and I told him I wasn’t asking for a scholarship. I told him I just wanted to go to school there.” 6 Such a showing of character is rarely seen with young men, even today. Lanier put a chance at earning a quality education above a chance at playing college football. He would have been happy to be a

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walk-on player for the team, as long as he could attend school at Morgan State. To him, the education was the true benefit of college, not making the football team. Banks was naturally impressed with Lanier’s approach, but he was still somewhat skeptical. He informed Lanier that he would have to take the school’s entrance examination. The young Lanier was fine with that. He boarded a Greyhound bus in Richmond, headed for Baltimore, and took the exam. Not surprisingly, he scored in the top 10 percent of the entering freshman class. Willie Lanier had found his college. Coach Banks was happy to give the young lad a chance to make the team. He did not know for sure what kind of football player he was getting, but he knew what kind of student he was getting. Willie Lanier realized that a college education was the key to a better life, and he continued to place learning at the top of his list of priorities throughout every stage of his extraordinary life. The story of how he obtained admission to Morgan State is important, because it is a lesson youngsters today can learn from. “He (Lanier) tells that story as a way of illustrating to young people that it’s important to make good decisions, even at a young age,” said Woody of the Times-Dispatch. “And he points out that he wasn’t kidding when he told the coach that football wasn’t his motivation for attending Morgan State. Lanier really did want to earn a business degree. Becoming a professional football player had never entered his mind.” 7 Lanier’s beliefs evoke a time when amateur athletics were not thought of as anything more than a specific route to take to obtain a college education. He felt that if students had the desire, dedication, and smarts to attend college, they were expected to graduate in four years. That was the motivation and expectation Lanier held strongly to. There was no battle about which came first in Willie Lanier’s train of thought. It would be textbooks over touchdowns and tackles, and that was fine with him. But his collegiate studies needed a little bit of a boost, and he held himself responsible for taking care of that. “When I first went up there [to Morgan State], I thought I’d just go easy on the books and spend most of my time in football,” Lanier

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recalled. “When I saw that my grades weren’t too good, I started to study more. I didn’t have any more trouble after that.” 8 When compared to the state of college athletics today, where the most common goal of young players on the top college teams is to succeed more on the football field or basketball court than in the classroom, Lanier’s contrasting approach is refreshing. There still remained a fairly big problem for Lanier in 1963, however. Yes, he was qualified to be a bona fide member of the freshman class, but how would this young student-athlete pay for his education with no scholarship? Lanier diligently searched for remedies to his problem. He decided to finance his first semester by obtaining student loans and family loans, and then participating in a work-study arrangement. He earned money one winter as a janitor in the school cafeteria and as a truck driver one summer for a brewery. Then some good luck found its way into Lanier’s life. His head football coach, Earl Banks, did some more digging and managed to find a scholarship for a young man who would one day become the greatest football player he would ever coach. “Coach Banks and the other coaches instilled academics,” recalled former Morgan State running back Earl Mayo in 2016. “He knew that was more important at that time than football.” 9 “Coach Banks spent a tremendous amount of his life trying to inspire young men, primarily black men, to realize that they had an opportunity to go forward in this country and to excel,” Lanier said, “regardless of what the view was of them prior to their arriving. That once the opportunity was there, you had to excel at what you did.” 10 Willie no longer had to worry about paying for his education. All he had to do now was earn good grades and make a lot of tackles on the football field. He managed to do both extremely well. The Morgan State football team was virtually reborn during the years Willie Lanier wore a uniform for the Golden Bears. Yes, the team was very competitive before Lanier arrived on the Baltimore campus. But after he became a member of the squad in his freshman year, the exploits of the Morgan State defense took on a mythical quality. From

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1963 to 1966, they would permit an average of just 58 points—per season. “I think that in 1966, our defense held teams to an average of minus yards,” opined former Morgan State tight end and future NFL star Raymond Chester in 2017. “The defense was just awesome.” 11 The opposing teams were common foes in the Central Intercollegiate Athletic Association, a designated category of the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics (NAIA). The NAIA was considered a step below the larger student enrollment numbers of the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA). Most of the teams Lanier and his teammates would be facing were classified as historic black football college (HBFC) teams, with large numbers of African American students on their rosters. Most of those schools were located south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and most neighbored the Eastern Seaboard. Morgan State would traditionally face such teams as North Carolina Central, Virginia Union, Delaware State, Hampton, Maryland Eastern Shore, Howard, and Virginia State. None of these schools were considered juggernauts in comparison to the larger Division 1A schools. But many of those HBFC schools played a hardened and tough brand of football. You knew you were going to get hit hard when you faced teams like Morgan State and North Carolina A&T. During the 1960s, most of these second-tier college football programs operated on much smaller budgets than the top-tier schools. The gridirons themselves that Lanier and his teammates played on exhibited a lack of luxuries that many of the bigger schools had. They were domains where the stadium fields were often only in slightly better shape than the team’s practice fields. Today, many high school stadiums are larger and in better shape than what was found in small U.S. colleges during the years Lanier attended Morgan State. But these small college football fields were emblematic of the proving grounds. They were the memorable places where an athlete like Willie Lanier could learn the game and display his drive and determination to succeed. In actuality, these fields, often muddy and dirty with dying grass and white chalk lines, measured a young man’s desire to play football. They were where

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he and his teammates paid the price to earn a greatness that was both laborious and time consuming. But it was worth it to Lanier, because he wholeheartedly believed in the possibilities of his future in business, through the means of playing football. Freshmen were typically asked to do more than the upperclassmen to prove their willingness to sacrifice for the team. For most players like Lanier, this meant playing more than just their usual position. Lanier was such a splendid athlete that in addition to his linebacker duties, he was also asked to play offensive guard. And almost every first-year player would see action on one special teams squad or another. Platooning a player on both offense and defense does not happen much today, but in the 1960s, many small college teams employed the practice. Such a sacrifice was second for Lanier. “Willie was the leader of our team,” recalled Chester. “He was the guy that many of us looked up to for an example of how to do things right.” 12 Morgan State did things right in their opening game in 1963, a 38–0 victory against Maryland’s Hampton Institute. The win may have given the Golden Bears a sense of overconfidence, because the following week, against North Carolina Central, Morgan State’s defense would allow the second-most points of their season in a 25–20 defeat. It was a wake-up call for the team, especially for the defense. Lanier and his teammates had tasted embarrassment with this loss, and they were determined to avoid similar occurrences for the rest of the season. As things turned out, the Golden Bears defense would not give up 25 points in a game for the remainder of their regular schedule. An impressive seven-game winning streak was in store for Morgan State, with three of those seven wins coming thanks to shutouts. Morgan State’s stellar defensive play early in the season included a 10–0 blanking of Maryland Eastern Shore and a 53–8 triumph against Howard University of Washington, D.C. During these early games, Lanier was focusing on how to improve upon his overall performance. He honed his maneuverability and agility, particularly while backpedaling into the short zones of the defensive secondary to break up oppos-

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ing passes. He also improved his ability to read and react to whatever play an offense was trying to run. Finally, in his collegiate years (and indeed during his pro years as well), Willie dealt out a wealth of hard hits. Those “Lanier hits” helped the Morgan State Golden Bears to become much better on defense. But Lanier and the Golden Bears could not get too cocksure about their early successes. Banks reminded his young charges that Howard had not won a game all season when they played Morgan State. Banks wanted his team to avoid complacency at all costs. This lesson was certainly not lost on the young Lanier, who saw the wisdom in not underestimating the potential of any opponent, regardless of their record. Coach Banks was a no-nonsense type who saw the big picture in college athletics. He believed in stressing the fundamentals to his players and simply did not tolerate anyone who did not put the team above their own interests. “If you showed off after making a tackle or knocking down a pass, you’d go back to your locker and find a bottle of French’s mustard and a package of hot dogs,” recalled former Morgan State quarterback Daryl Johnson. 13 The humiliating lesson was clear to every player: No showboating, regardless of the situation. It was a message that stuck with the players well after college. Scouring the vaults at NFL Films, a diligent and thorough search of highlights from many Morgan State players who went on to play pro football shows zero outward examples from any of those players—including Willie Lanier—of showboating on the field. The Golden Bears continued their 1963 season with a 46–14 thrashing of Delaware State. That result was expected, because the Hornets were not a powerful opponent. The next two opponents for Morgan State would be, however. The North Carolina A&T Aggies were undefeated, at 5–0, coming into their game with the Golden Bears, and they had scored at least 60 points in two of those wins. Nevertheless, they would not remain undefeated after running into Lanier and his teammates. The Morgan State defense shut out the Aggies, 23–0, setting the expected team standard for the remainder of the season. More of the same punishment was meted out the following week to the Virginia

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Union Panthers. That team owned a 5–1 record entering their meeting with the Golden Bears. They would quickly suffer a 28–0 spanking, which boosted Morgan State’s record to an impressive 6–1, with just two more games remaining on their 1963 regular-season schedule. If they won both, they would qualify for a NAIA bowl game. Coach Banks carefully explained the challenge to his players, and the team responded in the way he had hoped. Young men like Willie Lanier were fired up to provide more dominating play from the defensive side of the line of scrimmage. They did so against their next opponent, the Shaw Bears, but it was the Morgan State offense that accounted for its best outing of the 1963 season. The Golden Bears accumulated eight touchdowns in a blistering 54–8 triumph. The Virginia State team was the last squad that Morgan State would play in the regular season. Banks knew full well that the Trojans would represent a tougher challenge than what they received from Shaw. “They’re the kind of team that has the potential of surprising you,” admitted Banks in an interview with the Baltimore Afro-American on November 23, 1963. Coach Banks almost always made sure to discuss how impressive the Golden Bears’ upcoming opponents would be with his players, regardless of how many games they had won or their statistics or quality of personnel. He did this to keep his team from becoming too complaisant or overconfident. “They [Virginia State] are also a better team than their record [4–3] indicates,” Banks continued. “They are a first-division team, and they should not be taken for granted.” 14 One thing that both teams took for granted was the scheduled date of the game. But before the two schools would face one another on the gridiron on November 23, a national tragedy occurred the day prior. President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963, and that tragic event would have ramifications for collegiate athletics as well. Most of the college football games that were scheduled for November 23—one of which was Morgan State’s game against Virginia State—were either postponed or cancelled on short notice. The sobering thought of playing a football game in the midst of the nation’s mourning was too much to accept. Officials from the two

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schools in Virginia agreed to reschedule the game. The new date for the contest would be Thanksgiving Day, November 28, at Morgan State’s Hughes Stadium. When the two teams finally did meet, the Golden Bears kept their momentum going. They soundly defeated the Trojans, 30–6, earning an invitation to the Orange Blossom Bowl on December 14. It was an edifying moment for Lanier and his teammates, as they realized they would have the opportunity to play one more game, for the championship of the HBFC. Their opponents would be from Florida A&M University, a team from the Southern Intercollegiate Conference, and a team that, like Morgan State, also had a superb defense. The Rattlers (8–2 going into the game against Morgan State) notched an incredible five shutouts during the 1963 season, which was one better than the Golden Bears. On paper, it looked like it was going to be one heck of a defensive struggle. But it turned out to be a one-sided affair, and unfortunately for Morgan State, it did not turn out the way Coach Banks and his players had hoped. The Golden Bears lost to the Rattlers in Miami in what would be their final game of the 1963 season, 30–7. Florida A&M dominated the game, as the score indicates, but there was no shame for Morgan State, as the Rattlers had dominated almost every team they played in 1963. Losing their bowl game was a bitter experience for Morgan State’s players and coaches but one that would provide Lanier and his teammates with the impetus and inspiration to try harder the next time. The 1964 season would be reminiscent of the 1963 campaign for Morgan State. They started that season off with five straight victories, each one quite impressive. Their first game was against Hampton, a school Lanier would play once in each of his four college years. Morgan State would not lose to Hampton from 1963 to 1966. Even more remarkable was the fact that Lanier and the Golden Bears defense would give up only one touchdown in those four games. Now that is dominance. “I remember that our defense was absolutely ferocious,” said Raymond Chester. 15 That defense limited their first five opponents to a

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total of 21 points, an average of just more than four points a game. The team’s offense was no less dominating during the first five games of the 1964 season, as they accounted for a total of 145 points (an average of 29 points per game). “Let me tell you something . . . at Morgan State, I bet that we didn’t have but 50 offensive plays,” recalled Chester. But everybody on our offense could execute those plays backwards and forwards against any of the defenses that we went up against. When in doubt, we knew what to do. In other words, we knew how to improvise, [because] everybody finds themselves out of position sometimes on the football field.

Chester, Lanier, and the rest of the Golden Bears team would soon find themselves in a position they wanted to avoid, going up against North Carolina A&T in the sixth game of the 1964 regular season. They had crushed the Aggies the previous year by a score of 23–0. In what can only be described as a shocking upset, the 3–2–1 Aggies surprised the 5–0 Morgan State squad by an embarrassing score of 29–8. The defeat did much to harm the chances of Coach Banks’s team reaching a bowl game. While it is probable that Banks would never have allowed his young men to have any feelings of complacency, it is also true that North Carolina A&T should have been completely outclassed by Morgan State, at least on paper. The depressing loss represented one more important statistic for Lanier and his defensive teammates: They would not permit another opponent to score that many points (29) against them for the next two years. The reaction of the Golden Bears to the one-sided loss to the Aggies was predictable. They were steaming mad, and their anger was readily apparent the following week against Virginia Union, a team that had been doing well in 1964. They had compiled a competitive 4–2 record before their meeting with Morgan State. It was an onslaught, as the Golden Bears destroyed the Panthers by a score of 53–0. The Shaw Bears were next, and they also were no match for the Morgan State team. Lanier and his defensive fellows surrendered a lone touchdown

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in a 40–7 win, giving Morgan State a 7–1 record heading into their final game of the regular season against Virginia State, a team the Golden Bears had handily defeated the previous year. Unfortunately for Morgan State, they would suffer another upset. Their 13–6 loss at Virginia State effectively ended Morgan State’s 1964 season. It would, however, be the final loss that Willie Lanier would have to endure as a college football player. The Golden Bears defense of 1965 and 1966 exhibited two of the best overall team defensive efforts in college football history. They played 18 games during that two-year span, and shut out 10 of those opponents. The team statistics are staggering. Morgan State’s defense surrendered just 69 points during those 18 games—a mere 3.8 points per game. Even a team with a mediocre offense could win all of those games, but Coach Banks’s offense was very good, as proven by their point production during the same two years. In 1965, Morgan State scored 303 points in nine games, an average of 34 points per game. They scored even more in 1966, accruing 332 points in nine games for an average of 37 points per game. It was domination in every phase of the sport, and it was during these two years that Lanier began to exhibit his true character. In his final two college years, Lanier grew as a student, football player, and man. He honed and perfected his abilities to be a total team player in 1965 and 1966, and his efforts were felt and seen by everyone on the team. “We had great leadership on our team,” acknowledged Chester. “Willie was not just a great linebacker, but he was versatile enough to play offensive guard and special teams. Pretty much anything that they (the coaches) needed on the play, he was willing to play that role.” Lanier’s dedication to leadership turned out to be contagious for other members of the team, as many other players learned from him and began to become leaders themselves. Personal sacrifices abounded, as players were giving extra effort to produce victories. As Chester recalled, “Guys like Willie Lanier, [guard] James Phillips, [running back] Earl Mayo . . . guys like that were great leaders on the field and

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off the field. We had a lot of great players on that team along with Willie. The big thing that we had was camaraderie and leadership.” 16 That leadership also extended from the gridiron to the classrooms and study halls. “Life as a student athlete was very rigorous, but it was also very rewarding,” said former Morgan State cornerback Bob Wade in 2016. “We kind of pulled together academically. We would help each other. We would communicate with each other. We would go to the library when we could. We would try to pull together and help each other, because we didn’t want to lose anybody.” 17 Another important factor in the overall success of the Morgan State Golden Bears in 1965 and 1966 involved the performance of the team’s coaches. Like their players, they too were driven to make the necessary sacrifices to win games. “We had great coaches. We had really great coaches,” admitted Raymond Chester. Our practices were long and pretty comprehensive. We studied film. We didn’t have all the tools that they have today, [but] we studied tendencies. We studied the individual matchups on the team that we were going to play against . . . looking for any little idiosyncrasy . . . something that would tip off what they did. 18

Perhaps the main ingredient that determined the success of the 1965 and 1966 Morgan State teams involved basic chemistry. The Golden Bears simply had a bunch of really good football players on their roster and a handful of good coaches on the sidelines directing them. “Let me tell you something,” explained Chester. There’s so much talk about film study and this and that. Let me tell you something. Football is just like . . . in my opinion . . . like the game of chess. The game of chess is over a thousand years old. A person who was a chess expert a thousand years ago would be a chess expert today. Football is much like that. In spite of all what they say about tendencies and this and that, football is a game of adjustments. And it’s about people who are able to adjust—like the kids say now— in real time . . . on the field, in the action, while they’re in the game.

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You can have all the film study in the world. You can know everything that you need to know. You can’t recognize and react if you can’t adjust in mid-stride on a football field. [If you can’t do that] you’re not going to be a great football player. 19

Those abilities to react and adjust in the midst of the action while chasing down a ballcarrier or trying to read the intentions of an opposing quarterback were honed to a delicate edge by Willie Lanier and his defensive teammates at Morgan State in 1965 and 1966. Aside from displaying sheer excellence on the football field, however, the Golden Bears also paid special attention to right the wrongs of the previous two seasons. They lost games to North Carolina Central and Florida A&M in 1963, and to North Carolina A&T and Virginia State in 1964. They would avenge each of those losses in 1965, and in a blowout fashion to boot. After handling Hampton, 41–0, to start the 1965 campaign, the first revenge came against the Eagles of North Carolina Central, which ended in a 33–0 Morgan State victory. The next team on their schedule—Maryland Eastern Shore—fell to the Golden Bears in each of the four years Lanier donned a Morgan State jersey. In 1965, the Hawks lost to the Golden Bears by a tally of 33–21. Things got easier for Lanier and his teammates throughout the remainder of 1965. They shut out Virginia Union, 7–0, and Delaware State, 34–0, giving Morgan State an incredible four shutout wins in their first five games. A 31–6 victory against North Carolina A&T represented another revenge triumph, and it was followed by two more shutouts. Morgan State blanked Norfolk State, 33–0, before paying back Virginia State, 53–0, to avenge their bitter 13–6 loss to the Trojans on the final day of the 1964 season. The 1965 regular season was now officially over, and the Golden Bears owned an impressive 8–0 record. They were headed back to Florida to play in the Orange Blossom Bowl against Florida A&M, the same team that easily beat them, 30–7, in the 1963 Orange Blossom Bowl; however, Morgan State would win this time around in a convincing fashion, by a score of 38–7. The undefeated Golden Bears had

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earned the HBFC championship, as well as the accepted CIAA championship. Willie Lanier would have his final year as a college student and college football player in 1966, and both he and his teammates were determined to defend the CIAA championship. That season would be one of the most remarkable in Morgan State football history, as the Golden Bears would finish the season as a participant in the Tangerine Bowl. The players could not have known at the beginning of the year that they would make college football history in that game. But before that important moment could occur, Morgan State had to address the rigorous challenges of the regular season. Morgan State’s opening contest pitted them against North Carolina Central, a team they had defeated in each of the past two seasons. In 1966, they would make it three years in a row with a 21–0 victory against the Eagles. This was followed by a tough 12–8 win over Maryland Eastern Shore. Next, the Golden Bears offense racked up some big numbers in a 66–7 massacre of Virginia Union. The offense then “cooled off” a little by scoring only five touchdowns the following week against Delaware State in a 38–6 win. This high scoring was good, but it is often difficult to keep up such a blistering scoring surge, regardless of the quality of your opponent. Morgan State came back down to earth with a tough 13–8 victory against the highly competitive team from North Carolina A&T in the fifth week of the 1966 season. This win was too close for comfort, however, and the Golden Bears defense knew it. They were determined to make sure that no opposing team came that close to beating them again, and no team did during the remainder of the regular season. Lanier and the other members of the Morgan State defense notched three straight shutouts to complete the 1966 regular season. Also doing their part was the team’s offense, a unit that accounted for an astounding 168 total points in the final three games of the CIAA season. The first of those three romps was a 69–0 crushing of Hampton Institute, a win that represented the most one-sided triumph in Willie Lanier’s football career. Norfolk State was the next to fall to the Golden Bears,

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by a score of 34–0. Virginia State was Morgan State’s final opponent in their 1966 schedule. They suffered a 65–0 defeat at the hands of the Golden Bears. Earl Banks’s team had achieved their second straight 8–0 regular-season record as they awaited word on the available bowl games. They had been to the Orange Blossom Bowl in two of the previous three years. The conclusion to the 1966 season would be different, however. Morgan State’s opponents during each of the years Lanier was a member of the team were comprised of teams that were members of the HBFC. In the back of their minds during that time was how well the Golden Bears—or any other HBFC team—would do against an integrated team comprised of mostly white players from any of the northern football conference schools. In 1966, Morgan State had the opportunity to find out the answer to that question when they were invited to play the West Chester Golden Rams of West Chester, Pennsylvania, in the Tangerine Bowl in Orlando, Florida. West Chester was a small school from a northwestern suburb of Philadelphia with many more Caucasian athletes on their roster than Morgan State (which had two white players at that time). The novelty of having a “mostly black” football team play a team of “mostly white” football players may have been thought of as somewhat impossible in the 1960s, considering that this was an era of civil unrest in the United States. Nevertheless, the idea of pitting two such schools against one another on a football field was a curiosity that was growing in the minds of many sports fans throughout the country. On December 10, 1966, the idea of such a football matchup became a reality. Coach Banks and his players eagerly accepted the challenge to play the Golden Rams. It was an opportunity, albeit on a sports stage, to send a message to the entire nation—a message that might help destroy (or at least deliver a strong blow) to the evils of prejudice and racism. As Willie Lanier stated in a brief telephone conversation in 2017, “I’ve been fighting against the idea that one person is better than another person, or that one person receives more opportunities than another person, based solely on one person’s physical appearance, because he

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looks different than someone else. I’ve been fighting against that notion for over 50 years.” 20 It would be the biggest game of their lives up to that point, but at that time, the Morgan State players never would have known it. That was primarily because of the way that Coach Banks addressed the moment. “It’s hard to recall the whole experience because Coach Banks treated it as just another game,” remembered Morgan State running back Earl Mayo. As young ballplayers in our 20s, most of us had the same opinion. It was just another game on our schedule. We didn’t know the impact [that it would have]. There wasn’t a whole lot of pressure, but you know that other [HBFC] coaches like [Eddie] Robinson [of Grambling], [Jake] Gaither [of Franklin and Marshall University], and [John] Merritt [of Tennessee State] put in a phone call to coach to wish us luck.” 21

Mayo and Lanier, and their teammates, would certainly need some good luck, because they would have to fight against the unfairness of the rules governing college football bowl games in 1966. At that time, a team in a bowl game was not allowed to suit up its freshman players. Morgan State typically dressed 53 players during the course of the regular season, but they would be limited to just 32 players for the Tangerine Bowl. West Chester University, in contrast, was eligible to suit up most of their full roster of players because they did not have that many freshmen on their roster to begin with. This obvious disadvantage might have derailed most HBFC teams. The Golden Bears, however, used it as further ammunition to incite their growing level of motivation. In hindsight, the Golden Rams probably wished no such rule had ever existed, particularly when one considers the game’s outcome. But before the two teams met on the gridiron on that December day in 1966, they first met several days prior during bowl festivities. According to Bob Wade, both teams stayed in similar hotels, and both mixed with one another in integrated events. “They even had events like cook-

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outs, bull roasts, and both teams attended,” remembered Wade. “We were not separated. We mingled.” 22 The niceties underlie the fact that both West Chester and Morgan State were equally matched in many statistical categories. Both had exceptional defenses, and both had quality offenses. The Golden Rams defense had limited its opponents to less than 50 yards rushing per game throughout the 1966 regular season. The Golden Bears ranked in the top 10 in the nation in scoring in 1966. And including a bit of irony to top things off, both head coaches—Earl Banks of Morgan State and Bob Mitten of West Chester—were each offensive guards during their college football playing days. It amounted to an intriguing matchup. Several of Coach Banks’s starters—including Lanier—played most of the game on both the offensive and defensive sides of the line of scrimmage, due to the aforementioned “no freshman suiting up” NAIA rule. Some of Banks’s players later admitted that had they been allowed to use all of their players in the lineup, they might have won the game by 50 points. As it turned out, West Chester gave Morgan State one of its toughest battles of the year. The game settled into a defensive standoff, which was just fine for Morgan State. They managed to keep the powerful West Chester offense off of the scoreboard until there were only 31 seconds remaining in the game. “Coach Banks said, ‘The best way to win is to not let the other team score.’ That made sense to us,” remembered Daryl Johnson. 23 The Golden Bears managed to score first when halfback Roland Savage powered into the end zone from one yard out to give Morgan State a 7–0 lead with 4:31 left in the second quarter. Savage’s touchdown culminated a 17-play, 80-yard drive, easily the best drive of the game for either team. No more scoring occurred until 3:33 remained in the final quarter. The Golden Bear pass rush poured in on Golden Ram quarterback Greg Milnes, who threw a desperation pass from deep in his own territory. Morgan State defensive end Jeffrey Queen found himself in the right place at the right time. He intercepted Milnes’ throw and trotted 11 yards into the opposing end zone untouched for an insurance touchdown. Morgan State held on for a 14–6 triumph.

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The outcome was more important than just the successful completion to a super season for Coach Banks and his players, even though they downplayed it as such. It was the message that the victory sent to everyone throughout the nation—that a football team comprised of mostly of African Americans could defeat a football team comprised of mostly Caucasians. It was a watershed moment, whether or not the players recognized it. Today, it stands as a moment of pride for not only the Golden Bears players, but also Morgan State University. “It was very rewarding, but at that time, I did not realize the significance of that game,” said Wade in 2016. But now, of course 50 years later, I realize the significance of that ballgame. It was the first time that a predominantly all-black institution played a predominantly all-white institution. And the game was of course played on national television. It was just a tremendous experience. 24

Willie Lanier’s college football experience was over, and it had ended on a successful note. He had been a member of a team from an unheralded school that had just finished two straight seasons without a single loss or tie. “During my four years at Morgan State, we lost only four games,” Lanier proudly admitted, “and two of them came when I was hurt.” 25 Most importantly, he had earned his business degree at Morgan State, which would open more doors for him in the future. But maybe just as important to Lanier as his accomplishments on the football field and in the classroom were the friendships made and the invaluable lessons learned while at Morgan State. Along the way, he would extend the knowledge he had gained to his teammates and classmates. Mark Washington was a freshman defensive back for the Golden Bears during Lanier’s senior year. He would eventually become a two-time Super Bowl champion with the Dallas Cowboys. His memories of Willie Lanier while at Morgan State are as much about bestowing life lessons as they are about the dissemination of football strategy.

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“What Willie was doing for me and for the other guys on the team was modeling what a student-athlete should be,” recalled Washington in a 2017 interview. He was, in his own way, trying to help us become successful in the classroom as much as on the football field. I remember one Friday night before a Saturday game, I was sitting with my girlfriend—who eventually became my wife—on a bench on campus. Willie comes walking up to me, looks at me with a serious face, and asks me, “What are you doing?” I can’t remember how I answered him (chuckles), but I had so much respect for him that I think I told my girlfriend right away that I had to hit the books (more laughter). That was Willie. He knew that your time in college goes fast, and he wanted me to make the most of my free time . . . just like he did. He was a great example of a student-athlete, and he wanted us to be a great example for future students at Morgan State. I eventually earned my degree in chemistry, through no small measure thanks to the examples of hard work and dedication that I saw in Willie. 26

Winning and success would prove to be addictive for a young Willie Lanier, and he wanted more of it. Pro football scouts took notice. But they were also taking notice of a lot of players who wore Golden Bears jerseys. Men like Raymond Chester, Mark Washington, George Nock, John “Frenchy” Fuqua, Carlton Dabney, and Daryl Johnson each found their way from the Morgan State campus to the AFL or NFL. Although unbeknownst to him at the time, Willie Lanier’s trailblazing football journey had only just begun.

2 A CHANCE TO PLAY PRO FOOTBALL

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Lanier got a little taste of pro football while he was still a college student. Well, that statement might be a bit of a stretch. But he did get a chance to meet and talk to several pro football players during that time. Because Morgan State’s campus was located in Baltimore, several members of the NFL’s Baltimore Colts football team took time out every now and then to visit the young collegiate players at Golden Bears practices. While there, they discussed their lives as pro football players. They also lent advice and explained practical techniques to help the young athletes. It proved to be an invaluable education for the impressionable linebacker. “Once I got into college at Morgan State, I was around many of the Colts players who would come out to talk to the players at Morgan State,” recalled Lanier. “John Mackey, Willie Richardson, Jim Parker, Sherman Plunkett, and all of those fellows would come around and talk to us and let us have an understanding of what kind of skill you might have to have, (and) the kind of maturity that would be required, if you have the chance to go forward.” 1 That chance to go forward for Lanier arrived early in 1967. At that time, the AFL and NFL were embroiled in a heated competition for the best college football talent in the nation. It was a bidding war where players were drafted by a team from both leagues and coaxed to sign with one of them. The enticing lure of money usually became the key 23

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ingredient used by representatives of those teams to persuade players in question to put pen to paper. But Lanier hit an untimely pothole that did some damage to the front end of his wallet. The two leagues agreed to a merger just before the 1967 collegiate player draft, and that accord effectively put an end to the battles over who signed which player quicker and for how much. Starting in 1967, a few teams with the worst records from the previous season in the NFL made the first few draft selections. Then a few teams with the worst records from the previous season in the AFL made the next few draft selections. Teams from both leagues thus alternated their turns until the draft concluded a full 17 rounds later. It was a fair and equitable compromise for both leagues, but as a result the incoming rookies would get offered less money to sign with their respective teams than if they had been rookies prior to 1967. “So since I was coming out of college as a business major, I was hopeful that there would still be two [player drafts], because that would obviously create a bidding for one’s service,” Lanier said. “Then the common draft was the rule for 1967, which meant that it was only one team that drafted you. So it was one where the NFL and the AFL, all the teams, had merged their [selection] order.” 2 Lanier also commented, “In high school and college my game was hitting. Most coaches like players who can hit, so I felt I would make it in the pros.” 3 Like many prospective rookies preparing to play pro football, Lanier had one team he preferred to play for. He did not get his wish. He was drafted in the second round by the AFL’s Kansas City Chiefs, as the 50th player selected. Astonishingly, he was not the first choice of the Chiefs. They had two previous picks, which they used to select defensive end Gene Trosch out of the University of Miami late in the first round and linebacker Jim Lynch out of the University of Notre Dame, who was nabbed by Kansas City just three choices prior to Lanier. “No, Kansas City wasn’t the team that I wanted to go to,” admitted Lanier. I had attended college in Baltimore. With that being the case, I was very close to the Baltimore Colts, because a number of them would

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come over to the Morgan State campus. It gave us a chance to know them. And primarily, I’d grown up on the East Coast. So I was very familiar with the Mid-Atlantic (region). I’d never been to Kansas City. I’d never been west. So with the draft occurring, and then having been drafted happily by a team which happened to be in Kansas City, I didn’t quite know what to feel, because it was something that was going to be a new adventure. It was just going to have to unfold from that point going forward. 4

It is easy to see why both Lynch and Lanier were chosen by the Chiefs. In the history of professional football, 1966 is a very important year. The merger in 1969 between the AFL and NFL finally saw its first tangible outcome with the meeting of the finalists of these two leagues. For the official record, it was called the AFL–NFL Championship Game. Unofficially, it was called Super Bowl I. The Kansas City Chiefs represented the AFL in the first Super Bowl, and they faced a bona fide juggernaut. The NFL’s legendary Green Bay Packers were huge favorites to win the game—expected by everyone except the most diehard Chiefs fans to emerge victorious. The contest was surprisingly competitive, however, at least in the first half. The Chiefs trailed by only four points at halftime, but they eventually succumbed to the relentless Green Bay defense and the powerful rushing attack of the Packers offense. But what seemed to hurt Kansas City’s defense the most was the passing prowess of Green Bay’s veteran quarterback, Bart Starr, who completed a bevy of third-down passes in key areas of the middle of the Chiefs’ pass defense. Following the Packers’ 35–10 victory in Super Bowl I, Kansas City head coach Hank Stram knew that he had to find a way to shore up his pass defense. He also needed to obtain a defender who could fill running gaps and limit opposing ballcarriers to meager yardage. But what he needed most was a linebacker who could rapidly drop back into the short and deep zones—a player who could adjust quickly to anything happening around him and agile enough to make tackles and disrupt the passing lanes. Stram believed that this type of athlete would most likely be found in the upcoming draft, and he was right. Stram was

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searching for a gem of a player who could not only make a lot of great plays on the field, but also serve as a great team leader and inspire the other men on the roster. Surprisingly, he found a couple of players to fill that void for the Chiefs. He chose the fairly well-known Jim Lynch, as well as the rather unknown and underpublicized Willie Lanier. “But I noticed that there was not the strong interest [in me],” admitted Lanier. “The greater interest in Willie Lanier came from the American Football League, and, obviously, that interest was strong enough for them to have drafted me in the second round. So, therefore, it allowed [my football] history to go forward.” 5 The tenor of the times in the 1960s was still showing signs of prejudice in U.S. society, however, and, interestingly enough, even in professional sports. The belief that minorities could not succeed in pro sports was somehow still showing up in the thoughts and tenets of that era. This was unfortunate, because a large number of African American athletes were consistently proving to fans how well they could perform on football gridirons, basketball courts, and baseball diamonds throughout the nation. Willie Lanier somehow found himself in the midst of these swirling opinions about the degree to which a player with a different skin color could help a particular team. Even more contentious were opinions about how a black man might affect team chemistry, both on the field and in the locker room. Some of these archaic feelings were not always the product of pro football coaches but rather team owners. Most owners were very wealthy men, and they received great prestige and notoriety for owning a pro football team, even more so than by owning their other business enterprises. Some team owners were (and still are) more “hands on” than others, preferring to direct their general managers and head coaches to make decisions they favored. Most owners did not openly or publicly prefer having more white players on their roster than black players. Some never outwardly expressed an opinion on the matter. Nevertheless, possessing a majority of white players was the state of affairs in the 1960s, especially on the older NFL teams. But regardless of the origins of those trends, one thing was certain and proven

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throughout the 1960s: The AFL was much more willing to give larger numbers of African American athletes an opportunity to play than the addled and more sedentary NFL. “So being a minority player and observing the patterns (and) the levels of interest, I remember there was a scout from Detroit who had told me he had given a very sterling report on what he believed my talent was to the Detroit Lions,” Lanier described. “But he also indicated he understood Detroit had a problem with a minority playing the middle linebacker position, and all those other factors that could be a part of it.” 6 One of those factors was a carefully hidden belief held by many members of coaching staffs at that time that African American athletes were not intelligent enough to play the position of middle linebacker in pro football. Today, we know that such beliefs are ridiculous and insulting, but in the 1960s many coaches actually believed that hogwash. The game’s strategy has become increasingly complicated since the advent of the forward pass in 1906. Even Willie Lanier admitted as much when he first came to the Chiefs. “I’m having to learn a new system,” he said. “But I should be able to know it well before too long. It just takes time.” 7 He also commented, It was hard making the change from college ball to pro ball. The pro defenses are more complex, and the pass coverages are so much different. In college there was no specific coverage. We played a 4–4 defense because most of the teams ran a lot. Pass coverage is the main thing in pro ball. You have to recognize patterns, and of course the offense is doing everything it can to keep you from recognizing them. 8

If a person with the intelligence of Willie Lanier was having some difficulties in recognizing and cracking the codes of pro football’s defensive strategies, then everyone had similar difficulties. No one stays in the professional ranks very long if he is not intelligent enough to understand game plans and strategies, regardless of his position on the team, or his race, or his nationality.

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The inaccurate stereotype that football players were “dumb jocks” was (and still is) a complete fallacy and an insult. Middle linebackers, for example, were expected to call defensive plays in the huddle. They were also expected to rapidly call out adjustments to their defensive teammates with regard to the offensive formations and audibles given from the clues dispatched by the opposing quarterback and the presnap motions of opposing running backs and receivers. In the 1960s, it was believed that only a Caucasian defensive player could be successful in performing those tasks because he was assumed to be the only one intelligent enough to do so. Whether or not pro coaches wanted to believe it, however, black athletes were equally as intelligent as their white counterparts. The position of middle linebacker naturally fit a guy like Willie Lanier. He had the perfect size, better-than-average speed and agility, and the superior hitting ability to play that position in pro football. He was also extremely intelligent, and judging by the success he has had throughout his life, he was much more intelligent than many white middle linebackers. Nevertheless, the year was 1967, and many African American athletes trying to make a pro football roster were facing an uphill struggle. “So I think historically it was one that was understood that the NFL was still not open in many positions,” affirmed Lanier. “So it could be linebacker, middle linebacker, quarterback, whatever. But there was still the thought that there were sometimes stacked up positions, so you keep the numbers down. And you want even numbers of players so that they could room together instead of odd numbers.” 9 He also stated, “I was very much aware of this situation when I joined the Chiefs. I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to play middle linebacker, but I was just hopeful that times had changed enough so that if a man was qualified for a job, he’d get a chance at it.” 10 The idea of a quota system for the number of African American players on a pro football team’s roster is troubling to even think about in the 21st century, but quite a few players from the 1960s observed and dealt with its reality during their pro careers. It obviously speaks to how much minority players wanted to play the sport. Having to grapple with

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such injustices measured a man’s willingness and desire to earn a roster spot. It was part of the reality many African American players heard, saw, and experienced from time to time during those years. Fortunately for Lanier, he soon found himself in the right league and on the right team to ply his trade as a middle linebacker. The AFL—and Kansas City head coach Hank Stram, in particular—was not concerned about a player’s race. Before long, many young black players coming out of college were labeling the AFL the “Freedom League”— and for good reason. Many rookies—regardless of race—probably would not have had a chance to continue playing pro football if not for the AFL. They were fortunate to have the opportunity to continue playing their favorite game for money and, in some cases, fame. Many of those same players who earned roster spots in the AFL developed a strong loyalty to the upstart league. Incidentally, the person who founded the AFL was quite willing to embrace the social trends of the future, and he eventually became Willie Lanier’s new boss in 1967. Kansas City Chiefs owner Lamar Hunt was a member of the billionaire Hunt oil family. He was a generous man who initially wanted to own a NFL team. When he could not acquire one, he started a new professional football league. A candid conversation with him in 1987 uncovered his hopes and plans for the AFL and how that league managed to succeed while going up against a giant monopoly, the NFL. “I wanted to buy an expansion franchise in the NFL pretty bad,” recalled Hunt, “but the owners got together and told me that it wasn’t the right time for expansion. The owners weren’t really biased in their choices for team expansion. It was just that they weren’t really knowledgeable about the parts of the country that were growing.” 11 After forming the AFL, Hunt moved his team from Dallas to Kansas City. The new league managed to survive in spite of low ticket sales during the early 1960s. The ensuing bidding war for player talent was also a big reason why these upstarts eventually achieved success. “Media coverage was very good in any city that the AFL had a team in,” remembered Hunt.

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Pro football is a business in the context of a game. The AFL won its share of the talent. We had a major advantage in that the AFL had only eight teams (until 1966, when the AFL expanded to nine teams), where the NFL had 14 teams. We only had to sign about one out of every three top players to get our share. This we did easily. 12

Willie Lanier finally got a chance to meet Lamar Hunt in person when he joined the Chiefs. But he was already acquainted with Hunt before he was even drafted, at least on paper. “I was a business major, and I had done a senior class paper on the monopolistic aspects of professional football,” revealed Lanier. Having done that paper, I had researched football. Everything about it. Lamar formed the American Football League, I had interest in the business side of the sport, what it meant and how it was developed, and the issues surrounding it. So with that being the case, he [Hunt] was a central person in that research. As it turned out, I would end up being drafted [by the Chiefs] and come to know him. But I already knew him, if you can understand that, from the work that was done in developing the paper. 13

Lanier wasted no time in developing his abilities as a professional football player. He worked hard to study the Chiefs defense. He kept his body in excellent physical shape for the rigors of the upcoming 1967 AFL season. In the back of his mind, however, loomed yet another challenge. He knew that a much more heralded rookie by the name of Jim Lynch had been drafted by Kansas City just ahead of him. He also knew that both he and Lynch would be competing for the same middle linebacker position. Lynch had the perfect pedigree for what the pros were seeking at that time. He had graduated from Notre Dame as a nationally known prospect. Moreover, Lynch had played and succeeded in many nationally televised games during his collegiate years; therefore, he was used to the media pressure and attention. On paper, Lynch was entering training camp as the odds-on favorite to win the position. But Lanier

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could not control what was happening around him on the peripheries. He could only control his own decisions and actions. “I realized that I had an intuitive understanding of how to play the position,” said Lanier. I couldn’t control the opportunity. Once the opportunity was there and once I arrived in Kansas City, I could measure myself against the players who were on the Chiefs team. I really had a rather dominant attitude in my approach to the game. I was blessed with tremendous quickness. That was going to serve me well in how to play the position. I think the other (positive) thing (in my favor) was that I played offensive guard in college, so I knew what offensive linemen had to do to try to have an opportunity to block someone with my kind of skill. But it was just a belief that I had the kind of talent, and I knew I had the intuitive ability and feel for the game. 14

Intuition and reaction on the football field are important skills for every player to master. But for any rookie in pro football, being willing and able to learn the complexities of the game’s strategy often gauge a player’s desire to make a roster. It many cases, it also determines how successful a player will be in the game. Willie Lanier had to diagnose what opposing offenses were doing in a fraction of a second. To do so, he and all of the Chiefs defensive players had to spend time studying the game. “I’ve learned, but being able to diagnose plays is the big thing,” opined Lanier in a 1968 interview. “When you begin to know a team and its personnel, and have an insight on what they like to do in certain situations, their inclinations in a game, their tendencies—this is experience.” 15 He further stated, “I was trying to play very aggressive ball . . . when a coach chooses you for a certain position you always feel a great obligation. I wanted to prove the coach’s decision to start me was a valid one.” 16 “You might have the God-given physical ability to play, the speed and quickness, but knowledge—it takes a little longer.” 17 The long, arduous battle between Jim Lynch and Willie Lanier in the hot and sweltering temperatures of the 1967 Kansas City Chiefs

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training camp was a competitive one, but it was also friendly. Both men wanted to earn the position by means of their own abilities, not press clippings from their college days. Surprisingly, Lynch found himself at an early disadvantage. He was selected to play in the College All-Star Game in 1967. That contest was an annual event where the best college players from the previous year played the Super Bowl winners. Naturally, players from the more renowned schools got invitations to play in the game more often than players with small-college credentials. As a result, Lynch missed the first few weeks of training camp to play in the game. Lanier used Lynch’s absence to his own benefit and kept training hard with the Chiefs. “He was with the Chiefs right from the start of training camp,” recalled Jim Lynch. I had played in the Chicago All-Star Game, so I didn’t really join the Chiefs until they were a couple of weeks into their exhibition season. Willie made it a special point to come over and introduce himself. We were both drafted in the second round. We were both drafted as middle linebackers. We were both All-American middle linebackers, and Willie had great success at Morgan State. But he wasn’t as well known (as me), obviously, because I went to the University of Notre Dame. So when I got there, Willie was way ahead because he knew the system a lot better than I did. He was really making waves by the time I got there. 18

During the 1960s, pro teams had a longer exhibition season [usually six games] than they do now [four games]. The first preseason game Lanier played in was a historically monumental contest, in as much as an exhibition game can be. The Chiefs were fresh off of their Super Bowl I loss versus Green Bay. On August 23, 1967, Kansas City played another NFL team in a game that meant nothing in the standings. In the mind of Chiefs head coach Hank Stram and his veteran players, however, the preseason game versus the legendary Chicago Bears meant a lot. Stram and his squad desperately wanted a taste of revenge

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after the way the Packers had defeated them on the national stage several months prior. They avenged that loss in a 66–24 rout of the Bears. Author Joe McGuff, in his book Winning It All, likens the onslaught to one of the most famous beatdowns in U.S. history from the previous century. “General Custer’s reception at Little Big Horn could scarcely have been more hostile,” McGuff concludes. “All the frustrations and bitterness that had built up in the Chiefs for seven months were unleashed that night. Never had the Chiefs been emotionally higher for a game. The Bears just happened to show up in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 19 The rout of Chicago sent a statement to everyone in the professional football world that the Chiefs were better than what the nation had seen in Super Bowl I. Willie Lanier was mostly a spectator in the massacre, being a rookie and sitting on the bench until the fourth quarter. It took most of the game until the revenge-lusting Kansas City veterans were finally satisfied with their pounding of NFL flesh. The Chiefs rookies scratched their scalps in disbelief as they witnessed the event. “At that time it [the game versus the Bears] was more important than many of us rookies thought it was,” Lanier remembered. We being rookies . . . I’m talking about Jim Lynch and myself because we were very close . . . were trying to understand the essence of the practices the week before the Chicago game and the kind of seriousness that seemed to have overtaken the way that Stram was preparing for that game. And not only Stram, but the seriousness of the veteran players on the team, because they were the ones who lost to the Green Bay Packers. We hadn’t lost to the Green Bay Packers. We were rookies. So we were just trying to grasp the reality of what makes one game in preseason more important than the others. But the seriousness of the veteran players on the Chiefs team who had played in the Super Bowl . . . you could see it visually. And it unfolded in ways that were just incredible to see. The Chicago game was an offensive explosion and performance, and was just one that there was an explosion of offensive skill that started at the beginning of the game and lasted until the clock had triple zeroes. And I don’t

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think I ever saw a team play at that level for all four quarters. I think what Hank (Stram) was doing was setting a foundation for anyone else to see that his team may have lost the Super Bowl, but they can still play, and play well, against the big boys from Chicago. It was beyond comprehension. We were rookies. We go to college, we have big games that you play. When you [get to the pros] and you see a level of performance that’s beyond anything that you could have imagined, you don’t quite know where to put it psychologically, but you then would know that if that’s the level that it takes to play and win, you certainly were going to have to uplift your game to be a significant part of this team. So it was great from that standpoint, because it then lets you know that if you were going to win and if you were going to win a championship, there was a lot of work that you were going to have to do. And you would have to know what skill and excellence was. And that showed that kind of thing. 20

The conquest of the Bears was just the start of something big. As a result of the more numerous preseason games, the rookies had a longer period of time to showcase their abilities to the coaches. The Lanier–Lynch battle was drawing the attention of almost everyone, and it quickly appeared to most observers that the team as a whole was benefitting. Both men were destined to make the team’s 40-man roster. But the summer struggle between the two rookies turned out to have a fringe benefit for both. It was actually the beginning of a friendship that has withstood the test of time. “I’d never personally seen anybody hit as hard as he (Lanier) did and play, quite frankly, as well as he did as a rookie,” admitted Lynch. And it was a sight to behold. We were absolutely competing for the same job. But it never got to be a personal thing between us. I think both of us were really trying to figure out what the system was, and how best to fit into the system, and how best to contribute to the team. How that was going to happen really wasn’t going to be our decision. We were just going to have to work as hard as we could doing what we were doing at the time. I think Willie was very benefi-

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cial to me and very helpful to me. We got to the point where we got to be very good friends. 21

Hank Stram, in all likelihood, probably could not believe his good luck in securing such draft choices as Lanier and Lynch in 1967. “Either one of them could have played the middle,” Stram contended. Both of them are highly intelligent football players and have outstanding physical ability. Since Lanier is bigger than Lynch it seemed we’d be better off using him in the middle. We had trouble before with people running up the middle on us. I know they wouldn’t do that with Lanier there. 22

Having a minority ballplayer become pro football’s first nonwhite athlete at the middle linebacker position was a watershed moment in sports history. And if there was ever going to be one man to make such history, Willie Lanier was the perfect pick to do so. But it did not happen right away, and when it did occur, there was little fanfare. Former Chiefs public relations director and current team historian Bob Moore did not think the honor of becoming the first African American middle linebacker in pro football history was a mere afterthought in 1967, but it was not as highly regarded as it is in retrospect. “What I know of Willie, I don’t think that he sat around and thought of things along those lines,” said Moore. Willie is a pretty cerebral guy. I’m sure that when he started playing pro football, he didn’t even know that [he was the first African American middle linebacker], unless someone would have said that to him. I think the fact that he was black had nothing to do with him starting at that position. By that point, the AFL and Lamar in particular didn’t care about that. Lamar didn’t care about that at all. 23

There was certainly too much going on at that time for Lanier and the Chiefs to reflect on the accomplishment. Lanier has the right to be proud of the honor that is his alone as the first African American middle linebacker in pro football history. We tend to celebrate the firsts in our

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collective history as Americans—the first man on the moon, the first battle in the Civil War, the first female Supreme Court justice, and so on. Lanier’s accomplishment may not rank high when compared to some of the nation’s other more noteworthy historical firsts, but in the realm of pro football history, it certainly should receive more attention and honor. The label undoubtedly seeps back into Lanier’s mind every time he is interviewed, but during his rookie season he was primarily thinking about getting off of the bench. “I’m not programmed to sit and wait,” admitted Lanier. Once Kansas City drafted me, and even though they had come off of a Super Bowl performance the previous season . . . that once I was there I expected to start. I had to worry at that time since I was a middle linebacker and there were no other middle linebackers who were black playing. Would I really have the opportunity to show my skills at that position? 24

Lanier received that opportunity shortly after arriving at summer camp. The Chiefs tried him out at outside linebacker but eventually discovered he was ideally suited for playing in the middle. Both Lanier and Lynch spent time at the middle linebacker position throughout the remainder of the preseason, and both impressed their coaches. But Hank Stram gave the job to Lynch to start the 1967 regular season. By September, the two men had built a strong friendship, however, boosted by their shared experiences at training camp. There would not be any hard feelings on either man’s part as to who would be named the starter. Lynch did well early on, but within just a few weeks, Stram changed his mind and inserted Lanier in his starting lineup as his middle linebacker. Stram described the competition between his two rookie linebackers as a “healthy situation.” 25 Lanier was simply a better fit for the middle linebacker position, and he would stay there for the next 11 years. Coach Stram was a fair man. He knew Lynch was too talented not to see game action. He also noticed how well his two young linebackers got along with one another, how well they covered the short passing

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zones together, and how well they hustled together to make tackles. So Stram decided to move Lynch to outside linebacker. It was yet another of the coach’s genius decisions. Just like Lanier, Lynch would stay at his new position for the next 11 years. Jim Lynch showcased a high level of maturity and understanding after Coach Stram removed him from middle linebacker. Like Lanier, Lynch was a team player. Moreover, he treated Lanier and the rest of the African American players on the team as his equals. So too did the rest of the Caucasian players. The Chiefs were focused on only one thing: winning football games with the best players possible. Nothing else mattered. They proved to Lanier with their actions that they were not concerned about his race, and this spoke volumes to the young African American middle linebacker. “I saw the opportunity for myself occur in Kansas City,” Lanier said. What it [Lanier being selected to start at middle linebacker] really meant to me was that Kansas City was committed to winning. Kansas City had moved away from the mindset of other teams that had been historical in the NFL. We had always heard of quotas or stacking, where if you had more black players coming to training camp, [they] were pitted against one another. So, therefore, you wouldn’t have as many on the team, and that was something that we heard a lot. But having over 20 (black players) on our team made me realize that Stram had a commitment to win. Stram was not trying to maintain something that one would say today might be thought of as politically correct back then, in terms of the number of minorities that you would have on a team. But he was allowing the talent that could perform to play. As evidenced by my coming to Kansas City as a rookie from a minority college, I started the fourth game of my rookie year. So there was no question in my mind that there was commitment in Kansas City to try to do those things that were correct. And I was very proud of the organization for really taking that kind of position, because for anyone who’s growing up in a segregated society, you always question whether the opportunity is really real or whether it’s something that’s just said for that which is correct in

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print or media. Is it really real? Well, Kansas City showed that it was real. 26

Kansas City’s example would soon be observed and copied by many decision makers in the AFL. Winning football games changes minds, attitudes, and strategies, and the Chiefs were winning a lot of football games. Throughout the 1960s, player scouts in the AFL were small in number, but a few were sent by the fledgling league to small HBFCs in the Southern states. The coaches and front-office people were witnesses to how well these African American players could adapt to the pro game and how well their addition to their respective teams equated to more victories. One of the first scouts the Chiefs relied on for this purpose was Lloyd Wells, who spent most of his time during the 1960s driving from college to college throughout the Deep South. He had a wealth of connections that few other scouts could match. According to noted pro football author and historian Michael MacCambridge, Lloyd would get in his car and just make the circuit of black colleges in Texas. He’d go down to the Southeast—Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, and work his way up. He eventually got to Morgan State and Maryland Eastern Shore. That became his beat. You had other scouts going down there, but they didn’t have the access, the history, or the relationships that Lloyd had. 27

Wells’s job was to inform Hank Stram of which players might be a good fit to help the Chiefs. The idea of giving minorities a chance did not just involve the players on the team, however. Lloyd himself was an African American civil rights protagonist, a confidant of heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali, and a professional photographer to boot. The Chiefs also felt he was the ideal man to talk to the players and coaches of the mostly minority schools in the South. He did not disappoint the team, as many of his scouting verdicts were heeded, leading to a positive outcome. Several household names in AFL history, like Otis Taylor, Buck Buchanan, Emmitt Thomas, and Willie Lanier, were

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scouted by Wells. Those players eventually took the Chiefs to the summit of pro football. “The amount of talent that Wells brought in (to the Chiefs and to the AFL as a whole) should be acknowledged,” admitted Willie Lanier. 28 By the time the 1967 pro football season began, practically every AFL team was signing increasing numbers of African American players. Those players, for the most part, were demonstrating their worth on the field, and it was a beautiful thing to observe—black men and white men meshing to become a team in the truest sense of the word. This mindset was slowly—but surely—changing many rigid and old-fashioned opinions predominant in pro football. Thanks to the diverse nature that was growing in the sport, history was being made. “It was not just in Kansas City . . . it was throughout the American Football League that you saw a lot of black talent having a chance to play,” affirmed Lanier. I think that probably helped the entire league, because it allowed other teams to see the same thing occur. With the advent of the American Football League, it allowed opportunities for more minority players. The recognition of the general managers and personnel directors . . . [they] noticed that there was a lot of talent in those minority schools, and that just continued that process in terms of moving forward. 29

Jim Lynch bore witness to what was happening. He saw how integrating a team’s lineup with African American ballplayers was producing positive results on both the offensive and defensive sides of the ball for the Chiefs. By 1968, Kansas City listed black men in eight of its 11 starting positions on defense. Today such ratios are common, but in the 1960s, it was quite extraordinary. “You gotta remember the times,” Lynch explained. When we fielded our starting team my second year with the Chiefs, I was one of three white guys on our defense. That was not the norm by any stretch, but I think Hank Stram, to his undying credit, looked at the great minds of great football talent that was in a lot of these

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black schools, especially in the South, and came out with some absolutely tremendous football players. 30

Those African American players quickly endeared themselves to Lynch and the rest of the white players on the Kansas City roster. They were men of substance, and they brought much more to the stage than their obvious football-related skills. They were exceptional people who, for the most part, had lived much different lives than their white teammates. Yet, they blended their abilities, personalities, and opinions together with everyone else on the team. It was an eye-opening experience for Lynch and one that he remembers to this day. “Forgetting about the fact they’re tremendous football players,” said Lynch. They’re tremendous people. [Defensive tackle] Buck Buchanan is one of my personal heroes in my life, God rest his soul. What a wonderful human being. We had a great amount of players with great character, and Buck Buchanan was a tremendous leader. Willie Lanier was a tremendous leader. [Outside linebacker] Bobby Bell is one of the finest people you ever want to be around. And so it was a real honor to play with these guys. I think that the part of the thing that was most impressive to me is that you go into an organization with some people that you really don’t have a common bond. I was a product of 16 years of Catholic education. Everybody that I met was going to Mass on Sunday, not eating meat on Friday, and all that sort of thing. Now you were in a completely different ethos, if you will. Great, great guys coming from great backgrounds [and] terrific stories. [Cornerback] Emmitt Thomas can tell you about picking cotton at times back when he was a baby. So it was such an education to me, but it was also something that I think would make you very proud that you were a part of it. You were a part of this Kansas City Chiefs team that was made up of this quality of people. 31

Those quality people wearing red and white uniforms with the “KC” arrowhead emblazoned on their helmets embarked on the 1967 regular

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season with combined hopes of greatness and abounding victories. After all, this was the team that had won an AFL championship just eight months prior. They were considered by most pro football prognosticators as a team that stood as good a chance as any to make it to Super Bowl II. That did not happen, however. The Chiefs were certainly a good team, defeating the up-and-coming New York Jets twice and shutting out the Miami Dolphins in two games by a combined score of 65–0. But the Chiefs also had their bad moments, as evidenced by losses to two teams (Oakland and San Diego) in their own division. Nonetheless, the Chiefs did finish the 1967 season with a winning record. Their 9–5 mark was good enough for second place in the AFL’s Western Division. Their offense ranked second best in pro football, with an astounding 408 points scored. Their defense allowed only 254 points throughout the season, third best in the league. Kansas City had twice won three games in a row, including their final three games against the Buffalo Bills, New York Jets, and Denver Broncos. Naturally for Willie Lanier, his most memorable moment of the 1967 season occurred in Kansas City’s Municipal Stadium on October 8. On that day, the Chiefs played their first home game of the year, against the youthful Miami Dolphins, an expansion club that was only in its second year of existence. Lanier ran down the ramp from the home locker room on that day as Kansas City’s starting middle linebacker. “I was aware that I had not just won a job, but broken down a barrier,” remembered Lanier. “I’m proud of having blazed a trail.” 32 The historic event could not have been a better omen for the potential that lay ahead for the team. The Chiefs crushed the Dolphins by a score of 41–0. Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson threw five touchdown passes, and placekicker Jan Stenerud was perfect, kicking all five conversions and going two-for-two on field goals. Finally, the defense sacked Miami quarterbacks seven times for 77 yards in losses. The win boosted the Chiefs’ record to 3–1.

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“It helps to have two guys like Lynch and Bell on either side of you,” admitted Lanier. “You know they’re going to do their job and you don’t have to worry about anything except your own responsibilities.” 33 But the good times did not last for the Chiefs—or for Willie Lanier. He sustained a concussion in the fifth game of the season against the San Diego Chargers, a debilitating 45–31 loss. Lanier’s injury occurred on a play that is common in football. He saw San Diego quarterback John Hadl hand off the ball to fullback Brad Hubbert, and Lanier immediately filled the hole, lowered his head, and braced for the impending collision. Lanier made the tackle, but when he did, the 227pound Hubbert also delivered a powerful blow. Lanier’s helmet was hit head-on by Hubbert’s knee, and the ensuing shock was felt immediately by the young linebacker. “I recognized that it was a concussion,” Lanier recalled. “I didn’t say anything about it at the time. I didn’t fall to the ground, and I didn’t have any pain.” 34 The concussion came with a delayed reaction for Lanier’s cranium. He played the remainder of the game at San Diego with a headache and, at times, double vision. “John Hadl rolled out and I went for him, and suddenly there were two of him and I didn’t know which one to tackle,” Lanier recalled. 35 But the following week in a game against the visiting Houston Oilers, Lanier was surrounded in the defensive huddle by his teammates when he began calling the formation and the coverages. He then inexplicably stopped speaking. The other players in the Chiefs defensive huddle looked at their middle linebacker with quizzical expressions on their faces. A second later, Lanier fell to the turf. The scene was shocking to everyone who witnessed it. The hit from the previous week had affected Lanier much worse than he had thought. “I was out for two hours,” Lanier said. “It was a contusion of the skull.” Lanier further commented, “When I woke up in the hospital the first thing I remember thinking was, ‘Am I dying?’ My wife was pregnant at the time, and I lay there wondering how my family would get by without me. I was aware that my football career might be over, but I was a lot more concerned about my health and my family than I was

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about football.” 36 Said Lanier, “I spent a week at Mayo Clinic being tested and a lot longer worrying if I would be all right again.” 37 He added, “Even after I started to get better I was bothered with double vision. The doctors told me that it would go away in time, but you always wonder.” 38 Even more frightening was what Lanier was informed of at the end of his pro football career. Ambulance personnel and team physicians who attended to him on the day he collapsed from his concussion claimed that his pulse was lost three different times on the way to the hospital. He was blessed to have been attended to by some skillful emergency personnel—and to have had the divine hand of God present in his moment of dire need. Lanier fortunately survived his concussion. A couple of changes needed to be made for Lanier to finish his first pro season and continue his athletic career. One was his approach to tackling ballcarriers. Lanier had earned the nickname “Contact” because of the missile-like hits he delivered with his helmet. He adjusted his tackling techniques after his concussion, however, by starting to use his upper body and his arms more, and preferring to squeeze his opponents when grabbing them. He decided not to lead with his head anymore. That change virtually eliminated the chances Lanier would purposefully experience another concussion (which he did not). According to author William C. Rhoden of the New York Times, the hard-hitting middle linebacker was bucking the traditional tackling methods of the 1960s: Lanier, like everyone else in his generation, had been trained to put the crown of his helmet between a ballcarrier’s numbers and hit, lift, and drive. In the [new] approach, he utilized his chest, shoulders, and arms to wrap up, or bear hug, a ballcarrier when bringing him down. The change was not ordered by the Kansas City coaching, training, or medical staffs. The league did not order it; indeed, the league did not know. Lanier said that he was not reacting to a rules change but to a reality that he had to change for his own sake. Lanier took ownership of his body [and] his health. 39

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“When I came back last season I hit as hard as I ever did,” admitted Lanier, “but I used my shoulders instead of my head. Because of the injury, I’m now using the part of my body that should be used, and I think that hit has probably made me a better tackler. When I talk with young football players, I tell them the head is for thinking and the shoulders are for tackling.” 40 Lanier’s new nickname after recovering from his concussion was “Honeybear.” It was indeed a more affectionate label for a man who now used bear hug techniques to tackle opposing ballcarriers—and prolong his pro football career. The new tackling method also improved his tackling efficiency. Longevity was the key. After 1967, he only missed one more game for the remainder of his 11-year pro career. “There is no way that I could have survived if I had not changed my style of play,” admitted Lanier in a 1973 interview with author Bob Oates Jr. for his book The Winner’s Edge. In Oates’s book, Lanier recalls his concussion and his thoughts on his own physical well-being. “I know that if I play recklessly on every play, I’m exposing myself to serious injury,” Lanier continued. “I’ve been there, and if I can control it, I’m never going to be there again. I’m not going to simply throw my body into the action in any shape or form. I’m not going to take a chance on a fractured neck. There’s no way I’ll ever try to hit anybody head-on again.” 41 A second change Lanier made was of the cosmetic variety. Chiefs equipment manager Bobby Yarborough fitted him with a different style of helmet, the likes of which had never before been seen in pro football. Yarborough added a four-inch-wide strip of rubber padding that extended from the front of the helmet to the top and down the back to the bottom edge. It resembled a painted red mohawk sitting on the top of his helmet. The new look became Lanier’s trademark image, and it was futuristic in nature. The results were, too. Initially, most people thought the padding was designed to protect Lanier from another injury to his cranium, which it did. But the padding also protected his opponents from receiving an injury after being hit by Lanier. The young linebacker’s concussion led him to an impor-

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tant realization. He began to see his opponents as part of a greater whole, where they needed one another. It was not that he was purposefully trying to become a compassionate defender, but that was certainly a result. In truth, he was becoming a much more understanding hitter. He knew that injured football players did little to promote the sport or bring fans to the stadiums. “Lanier said his mentality changed from one bent on destroying the opposition to one that ultimately looked out for his opponent,” recalled Rhoden. “For the sake of the game, they needed one another . . . on the field.” 42 Lanier’s time on the playing field in 1967 was curtailed by his injury. He missed four games in the middle of the season. But he played in 10 games, which was highly commendable in an era where rookies in any position rarely saw a lot of playing time on the first string. He had made history as the first African American middle linebacker in pro football history. And through it all and like all rookies, he learned a lot about pro football strategy. The Chiefs also improved their defense, thanks largely to the play and promise of their young tandem of linebackers, Lanier and Lynch. The 1967 campaign may not have been the ultimate success Kansas City had hoped for, but the team was able to win its final three games, and those victories gave them a good taste in their mouths heading into the offseason. The 1967 season was thus thought of in retrospect as a stepping-stone for both the Chiefs and for Willie Lanier.

3 COMING CLOSE TO A TITLE

In 1968, the United States experienced one of the most monumental and troublesome years in its history. It was a year that few people alive during that time would ever forget. The country was in the midst of watching their children go off to fight in the Vietnam War, where the Tet Offensive led to an escalation of the conflict and equated to many more dead U.S. soldiers. The assassinations of Dr. Martin Luther King and presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy were detrimental to the overall peace of the nation. Protests and riots at college campuses and cities from Berkeley to Boston gelled in the midst of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in the summer of that fateful year, where 10,000 protestors squared off against 23,000 police officers and members of the National Guard. That pitched battle was witnessed by millions on national television. It was an anguish-filled year, and the penetrating details of those events were absorbed each day on the front pages of every American newspaper. Paling in comparison to these momentous events in overall importance to U.S. society was professional football. In the 1960s, the sport was not regarded by the populace as the near-religion that it is today. The game did, however, manage to provide a brief respite from the depressing and worrisome national news in 1968. The conclusion of the pro grid season that year witnessed the greatest upset in the history of the game, a newsworthy event in and of itself. New York quarterback 47

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Joe Namath and his Jets were 17-point underdogs to the NFL’s juggernaut that year, the powerful Baltimore Colts, a team that had lost only one game throughout the season. Namath had the incredible nerve to publicly guarantee a victory against the Colts in Super Bowl III. He then went out and produced a 16–7 win, shocking the pro football world. “It really meant everything,” admitted Willie Lanier in discussing the Jets’ stunning victory against Baltimore. One thing that was interesting is that we went to the Gold Ocean Mile where the Jets were staying after that game, and as we were getting off of our bus, and as the Jets were getting off of their bus, Joe Namath looked over and saw Emmitt (Thomas), Buck (Buchanan), and I (sic) in the parking lot. He came over, and we gave him a hug. It was one of thanking them for having achieved something that was very important to the American Football League. So this goal, collectively, we were acknowledging all of the other players in the American Football League over that period of time, trying to show that they had relevance, that they had ability, that they could compete with the thing called the NFL. 1

The AFL was being taken seriously by many fans for the first time. The league Lamar Hunt had begun nine years earlier was suddenly considered competitive overnight. The Kansas City Chiefs became increasingly more competitive in 1968. They improved upon their won–loss record from the previous year, compiling an impressive 12–2 mark, compared to the 9–5 record they earned in 1967. Their offense, however, ended up scoring 37 fewer points in 1968 than in 1967. Nevertheless, in 1968, the Chiefs offense still managed to score 371 points, which ranked as the seventh-best mark in pro football. But it was on the opposite side of the line of scrimmage where the team really shined. The Kansas City defense permitted only 170 points, easily the lowest amount of points surrendered in the AFL’s 10-year history. A healthy Willie Lanier was a major reason why the defense experienced such incredible success that year. Lanier came into his own as a middle linebacker. He did not miss a game, and

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his consistent play and overall team leadership supplied the Chiefs defense with a foundation for victory. “It was really in my second year, once I was able to be cleared from a health standpoint, in coming back to really reestablish the way I played the game,” recalled Lanier. It had been shown in [my] first year that I was a person who came to play and could really help the team win. I think the whole point (is) if you show the ability that you can help the team win, then there’s the support of those coming around you to help you move forward to really help them. 2

A clear understanding of Lanier’s overall football strategy and decisions with regard to his defensive actions and reactions can be garnered by studying his mental and physical journey through the schemes and thought-provoking elements of the game. They travel a fundamental and yet sometimes difficult road from a basic plan, to a subset of various other plans, to a final movement to produce a successful result. With Lanier, there were several stages and levels he had to go through to reach a superior understanding of the strategies that made the most sense to him and the Chiefs. It began with learning for learning’s sake, and included a variety of moves and countermoves. In short, it took a lot of different steps for Kansas City’s defense in 1968 to excel. Lanier was eager to help the team take those steps. Like every good football team, the Chiefs benefitted from the symbiotic and strong relationship of an individual like Lanier meshing with the rest of the defense. Lanier and company blunted most of the ground attacks they faced in 1968, surrendering a meager 1,266 rushing yards in their 14 regular-season games. Their pass coverage did not excel as much as Coach Stram may have hoped, but they did see some progress compared to the previous year. Kansas City’s defense found pride in shutting down the strongest weapon in their opponents’ arsenals, whether it was a strong and agile runner or a swift and glue-fingered receiver. The Chiefs defense was also keeping more and more teams from crossing their goal line. Kansas

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City’s defense permitted only 18 touchdowns, including a league-low four rushing touchdowns scored against them. Lanier was lightning quick to notice what the opposing offense was trying to do from the moment they lined up in formation. He then directed his teammates where to go, what zone to protect, and what section of the field needed to be covered immediately. Naturally, he also scoped out ways to improve his own performance. Lanier was interested in the bottom line: keeping the opposition from gaining yardage and scoring touchdowns—the ultimate goals for every defense. Kansas City was in the presence of a born leader, and he was wearing number 63. “I thought it was important that you understand what the other side is trying to do to give yourself an advantage,” explained Lanier. “And everything that I looked for was the minute advantages that would give me a chance to do something a little bit better from the position I played.” 3 Fortunately, Lanier’s concussion from the previous year did not affect him. He was the most analytical middle linebacker to ever play pro football up to that time—and perhaps of all time. He saw a problem, developed a hypothesis, worked out a solution, and carried it out to its successful conclusion. For Willie Lanier, football was not only a strategic challenge, but also a competitive undertaking, where his talents and abilities were required to mesh with those of his teammates. “With the way we played our 4–3, we didn’t work as hard on protecting the middle guy as letting our overall defensive scheme work out,” described Lanier. 4 The 4–3 defense, for those not familiar with defensive football strategy, denotes a lineup with four defensive linemen and three linebackers a couple of yards behind them. “I had the kind of size that I could take on the tackle or the guard and still win,” continued Lanier. So we allowed those kind of factors to let the big guys up front trade more pressure in getting upfield, trying to utilize their skill. Then I would have the quickness to get away from [the blockers]. I also was

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one just being able to have that kind of skill management. It really helped us to be better. 5

Another part of the defensive strategy that helped the Chiefs was centered on the innovative ideas of head coach Hank Stram, which streamed out of his head and onto the blackboard and into the playbooks in quick order. He noticed that the average height of his defensive linemen was 6-foot-5, easily one of the tallest defensive lines in pro football. Because of this, Stram decided to employ a tactic known as a “stack.” In the stack formation, his linebackers lined up directly behind those gigantic defensive linemen, which made it more difficult for the opposing quarterback to read who the linebackers were keying on. The stack formation also made it more difficult for the opposing offensive linemen to block those linebackers. Lanier and the rest of the Kansas City linebackers were the beneficiaries of Stram’s stacking strategy because they simply had more free area where they could observe what was happening in the opposing backfield, enabling them to be in a better position to make the tackle. “They [the Kansas City defense] were born football players,” recalled Buffalo Hall of Fame offensive guard Joe DeLamielleure. Curley [Culp] and Buck Buchanan [defensive tackles] kept blockers off of Willie. It wasn’t easy to get to him. But Willie could run, and he could hit. Most people can run, but they can’t hit. Willie could do both. He could motor, and he was quick, and his anticipation was unreal. He could read plays. He was pointing stuff out as soon as we came out of the huddle. You know like where the ball is going. How in the hell does he know that? He just knew it. That was my thought. 6

Another important thought regarding the stack had to do with constant movement. Stram had the players on his defensive line shift their stances on a particular signal to hover over the nose of the center or line up in front of the tight end. This move was designed to cause confusion and possibly consternation among the opposing offensive players. The Chiefs defense could then create the over (or the 4–3 look) or the 3–4

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look, using the same personnel in a 4–3 defense. The “over” occurred when a defensive lineman shifted his new position “over” to the side of the offense, where the tight end lined up. Conversely, an “under” shift occurred when a defensive lineman would move his new position to the opposite side of the offense, where the tight end did not line up. The 3–4 look pertained to a formation that used three defensive linemen and four linebackers. The movements were possible for Kansas City’s defense, primarily because of the abilities of the men who comprised their overall lineup. While the 3–4 was not their predominant defensive strategy, the Chiefs were skilled and experimental enough to employ it when Stram felt specific situations warranted it. Thus, Kansas City was better than many other teams at making these kinds of intricate adjustments because they had the type of players with the necessary physical and mental abilities to pull them off. The result of this shifting along the line of scrimmage just a second or two before the snap of the ball produced frequent moments of discombobulation among the opposing offense. It also led to an increased number of tackles being made by Lanier and company behind the line of scrimmage. Team defensive strategy and the overall selection of plays and movements relied on the natural subcomponents of individual strategies and abilities. Every man had an important role to play on the Kansas City defense, and no one wanted to let the others down by not doing their best. Willie Lanier certainly did his best not to let his teammates down. He knew fairly well what type of action he was going to take on every play and in every situation. Every man who has listened to Lanier describe the theories behind defensive football has marveled at his analytical and mathematical reasoning when delineating the nuances of how to best stop an opposing offense. It was much more than just the way he studied game films, however. In actuality, Lanier did not spend too much time doing so. “I didn’t like to look at films,” Lanier admitted. “I had to make my decisions on the field, as to how I played.” 7 But Lanier did look at films of his opponents, if only to familiarize himself with what defenses might

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work against a particular play and, conversely, which defenses failed to do so. The sport of football involves many questions. Some involve how players view a problem and how to reach a solution. It was not uncommon for one to see Lanier toting a notebook around the Chiefs practice facility, referring to his notes often. He learned successful study strategies while at Morgan State. Learning the efficient ways of analyzing data and information served Lanier well both in school and on the football field. To accomplish the desired results on the gridiron, he first had to know what he and his teammates were capable of. Then he had to know the same information about his opponents. From there, he could work on plausible answers to the problems he faced when looking across the line of scrimmage. In listening to him talk about defensive football, one gets the notion that Lanier might be the most scientifically minded and evaluative middle linebacker in pro football history. “I think it’s something that becomes an understanding of the game,” said Lanier. I know going back to high school it was the same thing. It was the math, it was the geometry, and the physics. I had the physics end because you have to go against offensive tackles and guards who are 300 pounds, and you had to be able to create the leverage to give you the advantage, obviously, if you are not as large as they are. Also the thing that will happen is that since the offensive lineman fires out, he’s already moving with force. So you have to understand the physics of how to ward off the force and then be able to move away and get into the play. 8

Lanier also possessed the agility to become successful at the linebacker position. He was able to ward off blockers, which was a necessity for any defender if they planned on making the tackle. Willie planned on making a lot of tackles. To do so, however, his search and desire for continual self-improvement meant constantly requiring more of himself. He saw that the techniques he learned from his coaches would often blend perfectly with his innate knowledge of mathematical and

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geometrical principles to win the battles he faced on the football field against the laws of physics—and against his opponents as well. That knowledge, in turn, led to him winning many individual struggles against the blockers and running backs he confronted on every play. “But the angles and the geometry were such that my approach was that I wanted to be precise, down to the half step,” admitted Lanier. Once the play starts, I don’t want to be wrong by a half step (or) by a full step. It was an attempt to tighten it that closely. Then all of the angles, based on the speed and what the offense is trying to do, that you set your angles up, and you became very precise. Everything was precision. It was to a point that you could really play the game in your head before the game. You could play the game mentally about how the team is going to do what they do [and] what the angles [are] that you’re going to have. You design it down to the fact that you have a running back like a Payton or a Simpson. You stay on his hip most of the time because you don’t want them to create the problem of cutting back underneath [your angle of approach]. They [the opposing running backs] try to extend out [past your angle of approach]. You can accelerate to it [the point of the tackle]. But you have to try to really play a control game. A highly, if it is, violent game, but all within the confines of the control of the angle, because that was the thing that would make the difference. 9

The planning and strategy that Hank Stram and Willie Lanier employed each week were needed for the defense to succeed. These two men were a pair of competitors, and in some aspects they were very similar in their approach to the game. Both were natural thinkers. Stram was constantly drawing up offensive and defensive formations and plays, even to the point of drawing them on restaurant napkins when he ventured out to dine. Stram also watched game films for many hours, searching for that one nugget of information he could use as an advantage. His starting middle linebacker loved the game’s strategy, too. Lanier took the tokens of information he gained from the celluloid spewing out

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of the film projector and transferred that data to the practice field. Lanier also took the knowledge he obtained from the designs and data of his playbook and disseminated that knowledge to the rest of the players on the defense. He wanted everyone to understand as much as possible—what they were going to see from their opponents on game day and what they were going to do to thwart those plans. Here was the defensive team leader Coach Stram had been searching for following his team’s loss in Super Bowl I. And Lanier was taking that role very seriously. What Stram and Lanier both wanted was to earn the postulate that the Chiefs were not going to be fooled by their opponents. In a short amount of time, Lanier was becoming a reliable player-coach on the field, buoyed by his studious preparation. Make no mistake, it was rapidly becoming Lanier’s defense, and Coach Stram was fine with that. Lanier was taking ownership of a defense he cared about and had a stake in, and in that respect, both he and Stram shared the common goal of playing good football. The two men shared an understanding of one another and their individual approaches to the game, and that was a positive factor for the team as a whole. But Lanier was not content with knowing what his own head coach was trying to do. He was equally interested in discovering what the opposing head coach was trying to do. What was his background and theory of offensive football? Lanier wanted to know, because it might give him a slight edge in figuring out what particular play an opposing coach might call in any random situation on the field. Studying the strategies and tendencies of his opponents and the psyche of the opposing coaches was time consuming, to be sure. But it was a necessary requirement if the Chiefs were to become one of the best defenses in pro football. Lanier knew and accepted this. He was more than willing, even at this early stage of his career, to put in that necessary time. “You try to understand the general,” described Lanier. The general was the coach. The players that played for him—offensive players—were his troops. You’re getting into the mindset of the general who calls the plays and what he’s trying to do from a play

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selection standpoint. What perceived weaknesses did they see on your side? You’re trying to stay a step ahead in the process of knowing where to be. So it wasn’t one of just reading a play. It was trying to get ahead of their mental process, where you’re really creating a chess match. You’re trying to play them as a grand master, and you’re trying to beat them mentally with what they tried to do. 10

One of Lanier’s strategic goals was to react to a play almost instantaneously. This was very important, because the pace of the game was getting faster by the year. A rapid response to what an opposing offense was trying to do against the Kansas City defense was one of the byproducts of Lanier’s hard work each week. Making tackles, hustling to cover a running back out of the backfield, or blitzing a quarterback were the results of his physical and mental training, and Lanier was taking note of these actions during every game. Lanier’s reactions to his opponents’ movements were quickly becoming second nature for the Morgan State product. By 1968, every team in the AFL was starting to recognize that the Chiefs had an impressive middle linebacker—a quick, agile, hard-hitting, and intelligent middle linebacker. By the end of his athletic career, many of his foes would readily admit that Lanier could predict what they were going to do in any given situation, even before they called a play. And so, the gridiron chess matches between Willie Lanier and the players and coaches on the opposite sideline continued in earnest each week. Lanier enjoyed it immensely, because the game’s strategy represented a tension-filled but exciting challenge for him, and he thrived on such challenges. Lanier’s drive to succeed in his second pro season was also fueled by his desire to become the best middle linebacker in pro football. To earn that honor he needed a measuring rod or an example of a recognized player who he could strive to equal and then surpass as the best of the best. In 1968, pro football coaches and players alike in both the AFL and NFL readily accepted Dick Butkus of the Chicago Bears as the best middle linebacker in the game, as did most fans. Butkus was said to be the meanest, quickest, most skillful, and most powerful middle linebacker in either league. His legend was so established by the latter part

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of the decade that virtually every offensive ballcarrier feared him, and certainly every offensive coach stayed up late worrying about how they might keep him from annihilating their quarterback or running backs. Willie Lanier’s opinion of Butkus was similar to the one he held of most of his contemporaries. “Butkus had a mean, nasty approach to playing the position,” said Lanier. [Butkus] was very demonstrative in the way he went about playing the game, and he would just wreak havoc on anything that was close or near. Those who played against him realized that if you came into his area, that you would have to pay the price because he was going to be more dominant than you. I really had a five-year plan to work towards unseating Butkus as the dominant middle linebacker from the All-Pro kind of team standpoint. That Butkus was the fellow that everybody talked about. He was the one that I decided I was going to try to go after in terms of expanding my game. My game was not modeled after anybody’s. My approach was to play the game as physical as you could on a [running play] standpoint. But [I also wanted] to be involved much more in the pass coverage aspect of it, to be a much fuller middle linebacker, and hopefully, all of that coming together would have a benefit. 11

(More information about the Lanier–Butkus comparison can be found in chapter 8.) Indeed, a more well-rounded middle linebacker began the 1968 AFL season for Kansas City. Lanier was surer of himself following his injury from the previous year. He was becoming more successful in calling defensive plays, making crucial tackles, and dropping back in different zones to cover opposing tight ends and running backs who were out on pass patterns. He was determined to learn quickly from whatever mistakes he made. In short, he was becoming a difficult defender for Kansas City’s opponents to deal with. The 1968 preseason contests saw the Chiefs defeat Cincinnati, Minnesota, St. Louis, and Oakland. In that span of victories, Kansas City’s defense surrendered an average of only 14 points. The Chiefs’ only

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preseason loss occurred at Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum against the Rams. The final score of 36–16 was an anomaly of sorts, and it resulted from the fact that Coach Stram inserted as many rookies as possible into his lineup, which actually served two purposes. One, it gave those rookies a final chance to impress the Kansas City coaching staff. Two, by having so many rookies playing, the veterans would be safe from suffering injuries in what amounted to a meaningless game. Incidentally, the same concept of playing most of your rookies in the final preseason game is still the common approach used by coaches in pro football today. Kansas City’s first regular-season game had a lot more riding on it than the loss to the Rams, and it would also be played against a competitive team. The Chiefs started their 1968 regular season at the Houston Astrodome on September 9. They took on the Oilers, a team that made it all the way to the AFL Championship Game the previous year. The game served as a measuring stick to see just how much the Chiefs had improved. Houston scored first on a five-yard run by Hoyle Granger early in the first quarter, but the Chiefs dominated for much of the rest of the game, taking a 26–7 lead midway into the fourth quarter. The Oilers suddenly began a powerful comeback. Houston wide receiver Mac Haik caught two scoring passes from quarterback Pete Beathard to draw within five points of Kansas City. Unfortunately for Houston, a desperate last-second pass from Beathard was intercepted by Chiefs cornerback Emmitt Thomas, and a 26–21 Kansas City victory was preserved. Willie Lanier did not underestimate the ability of the Oilers in the 1968 season opener, but he knew that both he and his team could play better in every facet of the game. Coach Stram, however, instantly became concerned about his defense during the final minutes, as the Kansas City defenders allowed the Oilers to make the final score closer than it should have been. The Chiefs pass defense looked out of sync against Beathard, a journeyman quarterback who threw for an incredible total of 413 yards. The Oilers’ receivers simply ran patterns under-

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neath Kansas City’s prevent coverage, and as a result they racked up quite a bit of yardage. Stram’s concern about his defense appeared to be even more justified the following week, as the Chiefs lost their home opener to the New York Jets, 20–19. The heartbreaking loss was not really the fault of the defense, however. Kansas City’s offense failed to put together any sustainable momentum throughout the game. They started slowly, scoring only three points in the first half. Stram’s offense was unable to reach the Jets’ end zone. Indeed, the only Chiefs touchdown came when diminutive Kansas City kick returner Noland Smith returned a New York punt 80 yards for a score. Three more Jan Stenerud field goals were not enough, however, to secure a Kansas City win. Nonetheless, Willie Lanier did make some history in the loss to the Jets. Lanier intercepted the first pass of his career, against New York superstar quarterback Joe Namath no less. Namath was just beginning what would become his most memorable season, as the Jets eventually ended the year as world champions. Lanier returned his first interception 19 yards. It was a visible sign that the young middle linebacker could succeed in pro football. Lanier’s action on the play belied his supposed youthful inexperience. Namath was forced out of his passing pocket by Kansas City defensive tackle Buck Buchanan, and Namath ran to his left as quickly as he could. Lanier instantly adjusted to what Namath was doing and drifted backward into the only area of the field where Namath could have completed a pass while on the run. The Jets’ rifle-armed quarterback threw a dart, in the hopes of fitting the ball through a narrow opening. Lanier snared the pigskin out of the air and headed upfield in a most determined way, all the while searching for potential blocks from his teammates. Even today most players not used to handling the ball are filled with anxiety and nervousness as soon as they get their hands on the ball. This wasn’t the case with Willie Lanier. He looked like a seasoned veteran with the way he could adapt to a play when it broke down. He rapidly identified Namath’s only viable option and covered it.

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But Lanier’s first interception proved to be inconsequential to the result of the game. The loss to the Jets was what mattered most to Lanier, and it provided the team with a gauge with which to measure their efforts for the remainder of the season. From that defeat, the Chiefs learned quite a bit. They now knew which areas of their game needed the most attention and practice. The loss gave the Kansas City players a guidebook on where they needed to improve. Coach Stram was one of the best pro coaches of his day in terms of getting his team ready to play a game. He was also good at getting his team to learn from defeat and shore up any weaknesses they had. He got the chance to prove the legitimacy of that reputation in Kansas City’s next game, on September 22, against the visiting Denver Broncos. The Broncos had lost to Cincinnati the previous week, and they were desperate to get into the win column in the AFL standings. The Chiefs were desperate too, as they wanted to regain the momentum they had lost the in previous week’s loss to the Jets. Kansas City’s desire proved stronger, and any weaknesses that had been plaguing them against the Jets disappeared against the Broncos. Lanier and the rest of his defensive partners permitted zero touchdowns in a 34–2 romp. The Chiefs now owned a 2–1 record as they headed into the meat of their schedule. The victory against Denver was the first of six straight wins for Kansas City, and that winning streak kept the team at or near the top of their divisional standings for much of the year. Every aspect of the Chiefs’ game improved in week four against the youthful Miami Dolphins, who they met in the Orange Bowl on September 28. Kansas City spotted the Dolphins a field goal in the first quarter, then dominated until the final gun. The Chiefs’ 48–3 triumph against Miami included three touchdown passes from quarterback Len Dawson and 431 total yards on offense. The game also saw Lanier’s buddy at outside linebacker, Jim Lynch, intercept his first pass of the season. Lynch returned the errant toss 22 yards for a score. This was the type of game Hank Stram envisioned when his team was running on all cylinders. Moreover, this was the type of outing he had hoped for when he drafted

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both Lanier and Lynch. Both of his sophomore linebackers were adding much-needed gusto to the overall strength of his defense. Kansas City’s success was repeated the following week against Buffalo at old War Memorial Stadium. The Chiefs offense was not firing on all cylinders in this game, however. They were moving the ball up and down the field, but they were having difficulty crossing their opponents’ goal line. They managed only one touchdown, a 15-yard scoring pass from Len Dawson to wide receiver Gloster Richardson. Fortunately for the Chiefs, Lanier and his defensive mates were able to put a halt to almost every Buffalo drive, which kept Kansas City in control of the lead. More hard hits by Lanier and Lynch caused Buffalo ballcarriers to commit three costly fumbles. But it was more than just hard hits that made the Chiefs defense stand out. At this particular time, Lanier was noticing the differences between playing defense in college and playing defense in the pros. He was using his entire body in the pros with techniques that would eventually turn around the game for his team. When Lanier saw that he was not close enough to make a tackle on a certain play, he tried to reach his fist or arm near his target to try to punch the ball out of the ballcarrier’s grip. It was a simple act, and in the grand scheme of defensive play, it may have been a small act, but if he was ever successful at causing an opponent to fumble in this way—as he was against the Bills in the fifth week of the 1968 season—he deemed it a worthwhile attempt. It was this slight form of strategy that Willie Lanier was now using as a part of his defensive procedures. When these small elements started to come together to form a comprehensive whole, the brilliance of Willie Lanier as a professional middle linebacker started to appear. The Kansas City offense, however, had to rely on another weapon to produce points. The Chiefs’ outstanding Norwegian placekicker, Jan Stenerud, was called upon time and again to provide the margin of victory for the team in close games. Such was the case when he booted four field goals against Buffalo, lifting Kansas City to an 18–7 win and giving the team a respectable 4–1 record.

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But another win the following week produced more concern for Coach Stram. The Chiefs returned home to play the 2–3 Cincinnati Bengals, but the Kansas City offense was still having more than its share of problems. The game was in question until late in the fourth quarter, when Kansas City fullback Robert Holmes dove over from the one-yard line for the Chiefs’ lone touchdown. Fortunately, Stram’s defense once again played an exemplary game, as they limited the Bengals to just 116 total yards and a single field goal. Willie Lanier was excelling in his pass coverage duties at this time, as he helped throttle the Bengals air attack. Once again, it was the little things that added up to produce positive results. Lanier was getting increasingly better at reading a quarterback’s eyes (and intentions) on a given play. If number 63 could backpedal quickly enough into his intended zone of coverage and get in the way of the passer’s line of sight, a member of the Kansas City defensive line might be afforded one more split second to penetrate the pass pocket and sack the quarterback. It was quite symbiotic in nature, as are many facets of football. Cincinnati quarterback John Stofa could complete only seven passes in 19 attempts against the Chiefs defense for a meager 48 yards. As a result, Kansas City survived this unexpectedly tough game, 13–3. Clearly, however, changes on offense had to be made. Willie Lanier was quickly becoming a dominant defensive player, but there was nothing that he could do to help the Chiefs’ offensive players except voice his encouragement from the sidelines. Coach Stram knew his offense was going to have to score more points if they were going to have any chance at defeating their next opponent, the defending AFL champion Oakland Raiders. But how was the Kansas City offense going to do this? Ominous signs of potential failure lay ahead for the Chiefs, as their starting wide receivers, Otis Taylor and Frank Pitts, had been fighting nagging injuries throughout the first half of the year. Neither Taylor nor Pitts were healthy enough to play in the season’s initial meeting with the Raiders on October 20, at Municipal Stadium. Stram knew he had to devise a new strategy to deal with the absence of his star receivers in what was considered to be a matchup with the toughest challenger to

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Kansas City in their division. The 4–1 Raiders were smarting from a 23–14 upset loss at home to the surprisingly competitive San Diego Chargers, and they wanted nothing more than to get back on the winning track with a clutch win over Stram’s 5–1 Chiefs. Stram felt that his running attack and offensive line were strong enough to revive an old formation, one that has not been seen in pro or even college football for several years and might confuse the Raiders defense long enough to produce enough points for a win. Stram decided to employ the old “Straight T” formation, a lineup where three running backs lined up behind the quarterback prior to the snap of the ball. Those runners—Wendell Hayes, Robert Holmes, and Mike Garrett—then shifted into a dozen or more positions in the backfield, lending bewilderment to the Raiders defense. The results were even better than Coach Stram had hoped for. Garrett rushed for 109 yards, Holmes ran for 95 yards and a touchdown, and Hayes contributed 89 yards rushing and two touchdowns. The team ran the ball a then-record high 60 times. Conversely, they threw the ball to their reserve receivers a record low of only three times. It was a ball control attack in which the Oakland defense was stupefied from the very first play, constantly guessing which Kansas City running back was going to get the pigskin and where the runs were going to be directed. The Chiefs rushed for a total of 294 yards in a surprising 24–10 victory against their archrivals. Kansas City now owned a commanding 6–1 record in the AFL Western Division, while the Raiders fell to third place with a mark of 4–2. On the other side of the line of scrimmage, Lanier and company did quite a number on the Oakland offense. True, the offense got the majority of the headlines, but the Kansas City defense had to excel when they were on the field to force the Oakland offense back to their sideline again and again. They managed to do just that, as they limited the Raiders to a mere 53 total rushing yards and kept the silver and black off of the scoreboard until the third quarter. The Chiefs defense was at its best.

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Willie Lanier was exhibiting his growing comfort level in calling plays in the defensive huddle. If the Raiders were faced with a thirdand-long situation from deep in Oakland territory, he might decide to try to fool the Oakland offense by calling for a coordinated play like “4–3 Corners Up, Outside Twin Dog.” On that play, Lanier called for a basic four down linemen and three linebackers formation. Added to that, he had cornerbacks Emmitt Thomas and Willie Mitchell play the Oakland wide receivers very tight, practically pressing their facemasks up against the facemasks of those receivers. Such a move made it difficult for the Raiders receivers to run their pass patterns. He then called for the outside linebackers, Jim Lynch and Bobby Bell, to blitz or run a “dog” from their outside stances in an effort to rush Oakland quarterback Daryle Lamonica. Lanier and Chiefs safeties Johnny Robinson and Jim Kearney finalized the plan by drifting into their middle zone coverages in case the opposing tight end or a running back might drift into the middle of the field, hoping to catch an outlet pass from Lamonica. Lanier might call a play like that one only once or twice in a game— or once or twice a month. The trick was to never give his opponent the same formation or play on successive snaps of the ball or even often enough where the opposing coach would notice it popping up during film study of the Kansas City defense. Lanier wanted to keep the offenses he faced in a constant guessing game, keeping the odds in the Chiefs’ favor. Only truly seasoned and intelligent middle linebackers were able to call plays that caused such confusion and downright consternation in the opposing offenses, and Willie Lanier was such a middle linebacker. A key call made by Lanier in the defensive huddle might end up turning a game around and, if successful, give the Chiefs a needed shot of momentum to take home the win. Kansas City’s momentum continued the following week, as they defeated the San Diego Chargers, 27–20. As the final score indicated, this was a competitive contest, as the Chargers’ passing attack racked up 297 yards. But San Diego quarterback John Hadl also threw four costly interceptions, and the Chiefs defense permitted the Chargers to gain

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only 98 rushing yards on 27 attempts. The Chargers had accumulated 22 first downs, compared to only 15 by the Chiefs. But another good rushing performance by the Kansas City runners accrued 194 ground yards on 40 carries. It amounted to the Chiefs’ sixth straight win. “Believe me, this was a terrific win,” said Hank Stram following the game. “We had to have it. This game typifies the way we have played and won all season. It was another super effort. There were so many big plays by different people that it is hard to single out any one.” 12 Those big plays were short in number the next week, as the Kansas City victory binge ended abruptly in Oakland. The Raiders avenged their earlier defeat by dominating the Chiefs, 38–21, on November 3. It was the worst performance of the year by Stram’s defense. Oakland’s strategy to throw the ball often and all over the field proved to be too much for the Chiefs to handle. Raiders quarterbacks Daryle Lamonica and George Blanda threw for a combined total of 481 yards, which wore down the Chiefs’ defensive secondary. In contrast, this time the Oakland defense was ready for the “Straight T” formation that Kansas City had used to perfection in their previous meeting. In this rematch, the Chiefs runners could gain only 98 yards. The Oakland defense also sacked Kansas City quarterbacks Len Dawson and Jackie Lee five times. This one-sided loss knocked down the Chiefs to 7–2, while the Raiders improved to 6–2. Oakland’s offense also had a strategic plan to take care of Willie Lanier and the other Chiefs linebackers. According to Lamonica, They prefer to play a lot of zone defense and take the outside away from you by sending their linebackers ranging wide to support the corners. So we went inside to keep the defense honest, keep their linebackers aware of our inside pass routes, keep them in so they couldn’t go out and take the outs away from us. They had to give us more man-to-man coverage on the outside receivers. Once we established that, then we were screening and drawing, throwing outside and inside, and hitting them with a few deep passes. They couldn’t set a pattern. 13

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This would not be the last time a team would figure out Lanier and the rest of the Chiefs defense. But Lanier was not the type of player to just accept the loss. He did his best to learn from it and correct the mistakes he and the rest of his defense made at Oakland. So, it was back to the practice field and team meeting rooms to dissect the failures of the loss and come up with possible solutions. The next game was at Cincinnati, and the Bengals wanted revenge for their earlier loss to Kansas City. They did not get it, however. The Chiefs rebounded quickly from the debacle at Oakland to post a 16–9 win. Len Dawson played with a deep thigh bruise, but he sucked it up and led his offense to 10 fourth-quarter points to claim the win. The momentum had been regained. Lanier and the Kansas City defense shined, as the team won the final five games of the regular season. After beating Cincinnati, the Chiefs defeated the visiting Boston Patriots by a score of 31–17. In that game Lanier intercepted his second pass of the season and returned it 12 yards. The next victim was the Houston Oilers on Thanksgiving Day. The Chiefs defense feasted on the Oilers offense, and Dawson threw three touchdown passes in a 24–10 victory. Kansas City played even better the following game in San Diego. The Chiefs crushed the Chargers, 40–3, as every facet of Stram’s lineup was operating at high efficiency. The defense contributed an incredible seven interceptions. Stram commented, “We didn’t put it all together until today. This was by far our best game of the year. We settled down and took control of the game—both on offense and defense.” 14 One of those seven interceptions was made off of a third-quarter deflection. Kansas City’s 6-foot-5 defensive end Aaron Brown tipped a John Hadl pass that Willie Lanier was more than happy to secure. Lanier quickly turned upfield with the pigskin and picked up a couple key blocks against would-be tacklers by Kansas City cornerback Emmitt Thomas and fellow linebacker Jim Lynch. From there, the Honeybear was home free, as he lugged the ball 75 yards for the first touchdown of his pro career. Few people knew how fast Lanier could run in a dash, but he proved he had enough speed to reach the opposing end zone

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with potential tacklers in pursuit. The Chiefs were now 11–2 with but one game remaining on their regular-season schedule. That one game was at Denver, to face the 5–8 Broncos. Both teams were able to accumulate plenty of yardage, but only the Chiefs were able to make the most of their scoring opportunities. Kansas City finished their regular season with an impressive 30–7 victory. It was a win that saw Willie Lanier grab his fourth interception of the year, which he returned 14 yards. The Chiefs finished their 1968 regular season with a 12–2 record, good enough for a first-place tie with their hated rivals, the Oakland Raiders. To determine the AFL Western Division championship, the two teams had to play one another one more time. That game was held on December 22 at Oakland–Alameda County Coliseum. Unfortunately for the Chiefs, a division title was not to be in 1968. The Raiders played inspired football throughout the game, dominating through the airwaves. Oakland quarterback Daryle Lamonica threw for five touchdowns, while Dawson threw four interceptions. The 41–6 drubbing was a disconsolate ending to the season for the Chiefs. Oakland had earned a huge halftime lead in the embarrassing loss, and the discussion in the Kansas City locker room at that time was filled with emotions that ranged from anger to depression to disbelief. “I remember the speech at halftime,” recalled Lanier. Stram came into the locker room and talked strong about the fact that they were ahead 28–6, and if they scored 28 points in the first half, we could score 28 in the second half. That sounded good, but I didn’t quite buy it. After he went out of the room, my comment to the defense was that, “There was a difference between fact and fiction. They had scored 28, we had not.” And I think the thing that I said to the defensive players was that since we were in the deficit, that there was a greater chance that Oakland might score another 28. So we could be behind 56 to something, and that we were going to go out in that second half and extract some physical pain from them for this beating that we were taking that day. Because in my view the game was over. But we’re going to play it in a way that we were going

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to establish a physical and a psychological dominance in the second half. 15

Lanier was not kidding. One of his jarring hits on Oakland runner Hewritt Dixon, himself a 6-foot-2, 230-pound bull of a back, “caused a seismological alert up and down the coast of California,” according to Kansas City Star sports editor Joe McGuff. 16 “I caught him (Dixon) at the exact moment of indecision,” recalled Lanier, who went on to account for nine unassisted tackles and seven assisted tackles in that game. 17 Eventually in the second half the hard hits the Kansas City middle linebacker spoke of began to take their toll, and Oakland got flustered—and angered. The scoring was not affected all that much, but the bruising sure was. Extracurricular fistfights broke out several times in the fourth quarter. This bloodletting loss for the Chiefs set the tone for what has been acknowledged by pro football historians as the greatest AFL rivalry of all time. To Lanier, the game against the Raiders served as a form of inspiration for Kansas City. But it also served as a signpost for how much the team needed to improve to avoid a similar ending the following year. “And I think what it did in 1968 to lose that game as we did, since we were very close in the regular season . . . it really inspired us that we had to really improve our game overall,” affirmed Lanier, who ended the 1968 season by being honored for the first time in his career as a member of the All-AFL team. That when we got back again, to that kind of situation against Oakland, we would not have that same occurrence occur. So it was one of really giving impetus to the 1969 season, because that [the 1968 playoff loss at Oakland] was a crushing defeat. There was only I think a three- or four-point difference in the two games that we had played them that year. But to go out there in the playoff game and lose like that was not something that any of us could have imagined. 18

The hard hits Lanier and his defensive teammates inflicted upon the Oakland offense in the second half of their final game of 1968 offered little consolation for the Chiefs. The bitter defeat at Oakland was the

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worst loss in Kansas City history up to that time. Had the Chiefs lost their playoff game to the Raiders by a field goal or lone touchdown, they would not have been that far away from a championship. But losing the way they did—by a margin of 35 points—was unnerving and unsettling. Indeed, a determined effort on the part of everyone on the team—coaches, offense, defense, and special teams—would be necessary the following year to rectify the feelings from the final loss of 1968. Willie Lanier was intent on making such an effort.

4 THE CHALLENGES OF 1969

If you ask any Kansas City Chiefs fan to name the team’s most memorable and significant year, they would undoubtedly say 1969. It ended in illustrious fashion—indeed, the most honored fashion any professional football team could possibly hope for. But the 1969 season also saw more than its share of challenges for Willie Lanier and his teammates, including multiple injuries to the team’s starting quarterback and the burdensome label as underdog, which stuck with the Chiefs until their final game. By 1969, however, Kansas City head coach Hank Stram had built a roster with players that were resolute and determined, and they had a feeling that this would be a very special season. But it was the type of season that tested them as never before. In retrospect, the struggle commands as much attention today as the successful and glorious end to the season. The Chiefs had come close to earning a league title in 1968, only to fail miserably in their playoff contest at Oakland. Many football fans believed the Chiefs could do even better in 1969. Kansas City’s 1969 campaign began by registering an undefeated preseason, a good sign to be sure. But just before the first regular-season game, the Chiefs—and indeed all of the teams in the AFL—took a momentary pause to reflect on the past. The 1969 slate was the 10th and final season of the storied AFL. The Chiefs had indeed made their mark on the once-fledgling league since its birth in 1960. At that time, Lamar Hunt’s team was 71

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known as the Dallas Texans (they eventually moved to Kansas City and adopted the name Chiefs in 1963). The remainder of the decade saw the team get progressively better, and by 1969 the Chiefs were poised to make their most promising run yet at a world’s championship. In 1970, the AFL and NFL merged into one league (the new NFL) with 26 teams. The desire to be known as the last team to win an AFL title was definitely on the minds of every AFL team, and the Chiefs knew their chances of accomplishing this feat were as good as or better than most of the other nine teams in the league. Willie Lanier had already achieved some history of his own by becoming the first African American middle linebacker in pro football history. But he desperately wanted something more next to his name. He wanted what every pro football player wants: to be a world champion. The first regular-season game for the 1969 Chiefs was held out West, against the Chargers, a team that had put together an impressive 9–5 record the previous year. The Chiefs would play their first four regular-season games on the road. Kansas City’s home stadium—Municipal Stadium—was shared by the Chiefs and the Kansas City Royals baseball team. The Royals had inadvertently scheduled three Sunday home games in September, and, as a result, the Chiefs had to wait several weeks before playing a home game. Municipal Stadium no longer stands, but it was located on the corner of 22nd Street and Brooklyn Avenue in downtown Kansas City. By 1969 the edifice had seen some great football games. It was primarily designed for baseball, with dimensions naturally meant for a baseball diamond. When the field was laid out for football, however, the measurements and placing of the stands were significantly altered. For example, the right-field fence was stationed at the end of the east end zone. There was barely a yard between the end line of that end zone and the right-field fence. Then there was the first-base line. It was situated at least 20 yards from the football sideline, and the seats were stationed all the way down at the right-field foul pole. As a result of that obstructed view, the players from both teams had their bench areas

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across the field to enable the fans along the first-base line to see at least some of the action. In some aspects, the stadium resembled a circus and/or carnival grandstand, with a variety of attractions and activities inside for fans to delight in. There was a giant base drum that the Chiefs cheerleaders— known as the Chiefettes—pounded with their drumsticks to rile up the crowd. Then there was the Kansas City Red Coat Club, a group for men and women who sold more than a hundred season tickets. They were given a red coat with a Chiefs logo emblazoned on the front, and they also had the honor of going onto the field just prior to the start of each game for the player introductions. The members of the Red Coat Club lined up from the end line of the end zone to the goalpost, then to about the 10-yard line. The players were announced via the public address system and charged onto the field through two impressive rows of red-coated fans, screaming and cheering at the top of their lungs. Then there was the “Huddle Club,” which provided disadvantaged youngsters in the poorer sections of the city a chance to watch the games at discounted prices. These are just a few of the many examples of how a Sunday afternoon football game in Kansas City developed into a down-home community party. One might think that the carnival atmosphere at Municipal Stadium was quite superfluous and ostentatious for a serious man like Willie Lanier. But in actuality, the Chiefs middle linebacker reveled in the camaraderie and joyous ambiance of a typical Sunday afternoon at a home game in Kansas City. Lanier’s memories of the spectacle that was Municipal Stadium speak of his fondness for hometown traditions. “The Municipal Stadium atmosphere was just one of a very electric kind every Sunday,” recalled Lanier, and it was just thrilling to have a chance to participate in it. I think the thing that happened is that the playing of the game is only one part of the total experience, I would say, on “game day.” We as the players understood that there was this presentation . . . a way to present the game with all the other activities that were involved, and the Chiefettes were a part of it. The tailgating was a part of it. And

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that’s the way football has been played for years. So to be in Kansas City in a professional setting, and seeing it still being done in that same kind of way that didn’t appear to be just a commercial enterprise, but had the same kind of excitement that you would’ve had in college as well as high school, and that was the way I saw it. 1

But perhaps the most memorable sight at old Municipal Stadium was a guy named Bob Johnson, who donned a Native American costume and feathered headdress, and galloped along the sidelines mounted on a white horse named War Paint. Johnson and War Paint did their thing after every Chiefs score, and after the game, Johnson, War Paint, and the Chiefs players themselves trudged up the same ramp that led to the Kansas City locker room. It was a sight to behold. The spectacle of the games at old Municipal Stadium did not limit itself to the environs of Kansas City, however. Nor did the neighborly traditions stay within the boundaries of the state of Missouri. “Well the popularity once you came to Kansas City, and you would see a lot of license plates, as an example, at the game where people who attended, where they came from,” remembered Lanier. They were from Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, and all the states surrounding Missouri, and extended even further than that. Maybe Oklahoma, Texas, as the Chiefs came from the Texas area. It [the atmosphere at a Chiefs home game] was one of really having a true Midwestern flavor. You can go to other cities, and it looks a little bit different. But when you’re in K.C., you see the fact . . . this is a Midwestern city, a Midwestern culture, and an opportunity for people who have those kind of values, enjoying professional football on a weekly basis. 2

But, as previously stated, Kansas City fans had to wait several more weeks until they could welcome Willie Lanier and the rest of the Chiefs back home. The opener at San Diego did not present much of a challenge. Lanier and the Chiefs defense was in mid-season form, as they thwarted the Chargers offense throughout the day, limiting them to just three field goals. San Diego’s runners gained only 45 yards on 22 car-

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ries, good for an average of only two yards per rush. Lanier contributed one interception of a John Hadl pass in the second quarter and a fumble recovery as well that led to the final Chiefs touchdown in their 27–9 victory. But the win did not occur without some measure of bad news. Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson injured his throwing hand in the contest, but fortunately for him it was just a bruise. Kansas City’s second game produced a much more definitive outcome than the season opener at San Diego, but it also resulted in a big change in the 1969 season for Hank Stram’s team. The Chiefs pummeled the Boston Patriots (they became the New England Patriots in 1971) by a score of 31–0. Willie Lanier and his defensive mates gave up only 43 rushing yards and limited the Patriots to just 82 total yards and six first downs. On the offensive side of the ball, the Kansas City rushing attack undoubtedly received a vast majority of Coach Stram’s attention following their lackluster performance from the previous week. Against Boston, Chiefs runners amassed a total of 232 yards, and the offense as a whole accounted for 25 first downs. “This is a much better club, as far as overall balance goes, than we had when we played in the Super Bowl in 1966,” assessed Hank Stram. “We won six straight preseason games and then beat San Diego in our opener last week. We’ve been improving with each game.” 3 But the big news amid the team’s improvements against Boston involved an untimely knee injury to Dawson. Most people agreed that Dawson was an integral part of the Chiefs’ fortunes in 1969, and his unfortunate injury forced a change of plans. Dawson was now out of action for an indefinite period. Backup signal caller Jackie Lee started for him in the third game of the year at Cincinnati and did rather well, sparking the team to a 13–7 lead in the second quarter. But Lee himself soon suffered a broken ankle against the Bengals, a game the Chiefs eventually lost, 24–19. “For us it was a game of missed opportunities,” admitted Stram. 4 “The one thing I do remember having read after the game,” recalled Kansas City outside linebacker Jim Lynch,

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was that (Cincinnati head coach) Paul Brown told his team, “You guys just beat the best team in professional football.” [It] was certainly a compliment. It was a left-handed compliment, but I sure took it, and I agreed with him. We shouldn’t have lost that football game, (but) we did. Then you gotta learn from it. 5

In the fourth quarter of that contest, Cincinnati running back Jess Phillips sprinted for a 10-yard touchdown run that eventually proved to be the winning score. On that play, however, Willie Lanier once again exhibited the determination that by then had become one of his trademarks. Lanier was blocked by two different offensive linemen on the play, but he somehow still managed to make the tackle just as Phillips crossed the goal line. That determination foreshadowed a somewhat identical situation that would take place later in the year, when the stakes would be higher (see chapter 5). The stakes for Kansas City were intensifying with the Dawson and Lee injuries so early in the 1969 season. Coach Stram was left scratching his head. He had no immediate choice but to place a youngster— Mike Livingston out of Southern Methodist University—into the starting quarterback slot and hope for the best. The message was clear to Willie Lanier and the entire Kansas City defense. They were going to have to dominate their opposition more so than ever before. Stram focused his time and energies on the offensive side of the ball. He designed an offensive game plan that concentrated on the running game with the belief that the longer the Chiefs could hold on to the ball and use up the game clock, the less time their foes would have to sustain long drives of their own and put points on the scoreboard. As it turned out, Kansas City’s defense gave up an AFL-low 177 points in 1969. “Well once we recognized that Lenny’s knee injury was one that he would not be able to play for some extended period of time,” explained Lanier, and that extended period of time was unknown at that moment, it had to be one where the decision was going to be made whether he

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was going to undergo surgery. If he did undergo surgery, then he was going to be lost for the year. So if he didn’t undergo surgery, no one really knew how long it would be before he would be able to play. So with what could have been, in our view, a very positive season, might’ve had a chance to start unfolding. I think one of the problems with anything that’s medical, and if it’s from a structural standpoint, you don’t really know how long it’s going to take for the opportunity for the player to get back. So even though we recognized that he was not going to have surgery, that was a positive because that meant there was a chance he would be back at some point. But the reality was that we had to go week to week and continue to win because you couldn’t start to hope he might be back sooner and lose a few games, and maybe find yourself out of contention. So it [the rest of the 1969 season] was one of just trying to stay very focused, and hopefully maintain control of the division, that you were still in good position if and when he had a chance to return. But from a defensive standpoint, with a young quarterback that we knew had to carry the team after the backup, Jackie Lee, then was injured that next week . . . we just recognized that if we played much better (and) if we kept the scores under control—probably giving up 10 points or less from a defensive standpoint—that would allow a young quarterback to have a chance to win. So it really became an inspiring reality. If we wanted to have a season that was a good season, we had to do a lot more defensively to give the whole team a chance to succeed. 6

By this time, Coach Stram had an understanding with Willie Lanier. He knew without reservation that he could depend on his middle linebacker to take care of his defense. It was a trust that was not misplaced. Lanier proved that Stram’s confidence in him was justified. Stram knew Lanier could handle the ins and outs of the weekly preparation for upcoming opponents. He also knew Willie understood what was at stake. He knew Lanier and the defense felt more pressure to do better in the wake of Len Dawson’s injury. Stram also felt strongly that his defense would come through for him and the Kansas City offense.

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Opposing running backs had often felt the surge of Lanier’s willingness, desire, and ability to restrict their yardage. Now they would feel more of that from the Chiefs middle linebacker. As it turned out, both the Kansas City defense and Stram’s offense were equally equipped to perform to their respective tasks, resulting in an impressive seven-game winning streak. Willie Lanier had a front row seat to watch the Chiefs offense during the 1969 campaign. He observed the influence Coach Stram had on the group of veterans. Stram loved designing plays and formulating plans to move the football. He did not care much who was in the lineup. Stram expected every member of his offense to produce, whether they started or were on the second string. “He’s an innovator,” said Lanier of Stram. He’s trying to understand the gamesmanship of the way the games have to be played. So, from that standpoint, I wasn’t concerned about Hank on terms of the plays and the way he structured the offense. I would be more concerned about the offensive players not executing those plays as well as they could’ve been executed. 7

The setting for the next contest lent itself to a multitude of miscues by both offenses, however. Kansas City’s fourth game was played at Denver’s Mile High Stadium on a field that could best be described as a muddy quagmire (redundancy intended). A deluge of rain before the opening kickoff left both teams slipping and sliding on the sloppy bog of a field. Mike Livingston did what he was expected to do, however— namely, managing the game in a basic and methodical fashion. Livingston completed 14 passes in 27 attempts, but, most importantly, he threw no interceptions. Denver quarterback Pete Liske did throw an interception, however. Kansas City strong safety Jim Kearney broke in front of Broncos tight end Dave Pivec, then proceeded to pilfer Liske’s ill-advised toss and run the sideline for a 60-yard return for a touchdown. Kearney’s score highlighted the Chiefs’ 26–13 triumph in the Denver mudfest. The defense’s performance in that game set the tone

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for what was required as long as Len Dawson was recuperating from his injury. The Chiefs finally came home on October 12 for their first game in the friendly environs of Municipal Stadium, but sadly the field conditions were a repeat of the previous week. A torrential downpour inundated famous groundskeeper George Toma’s prized playing surface, making the players’ footing iffy at best. In such poor weather conditions, a defender like Willie Lanier had to be surer than ever to keep everything in front of him, meaning that he had to be more determined not to let anyone he was specifically required to deal with on a pass play get behind him when dropping backward into his zone of coverage. He also had to wear shoes with longer cleats to keep him from slipping on the inundated sod. The opponent on this day was the Houston Oilers, a team that had been on the downward slope in the AFL standings for a few years. Nonetheless, they were on a three-game winning streak heading into their meeting with the Chiefs. That streak came to an abrupt end in a matter of a few hours. The statistics do not reflect this, but Kansas City dominated Houston, achieving a 24–0 victory. The Chiefs defense recorded five interceptions in their conquest of the Oilers. “It’s a great compliment to our squad that it can win under conditions such as this,” proclaimed a dripping wet Hank Stram in the Chiefs postgame locker room. “I thought our overall performance was outstanding. We had so many big plays.” 8 The big plays disappeared in the next game against a young and winless Miami Dolphins team. Mike Livingston kept progressing, throwing for 308 yards, featuring a 14-yard scoring toss to fullback Robert Holmes in the first quarter. But the Chiefs were shut out in the second half, and only three key Kansas City interceptions preserved a 17–10 win for Stram’s squad. “They (the Dolphins) turned the game around,” conceded Stram. “We moved the ball pretty well in the second half, but when we got down there (near the Miami goal line) we couldn’t get it in.” 9

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On October 26, the Chiefs offense rebounded from the doldrums versus the Dolphins and asserted itself more than it had throughout the season. Kansas City’s offense accounted for an astounding 313 rushing yards and 508 total yards in a 42–22 romp over the visiting Cincinnati Bengals. The prominent victory avenged the Chiefs’ only loss of the season (up until this point). The defense chipped in by limiting the Bengals to only 65 rushing yards. If the offense could excel in a similar way in the upcoming games, the future never looked better. But the offense regressed again in the following contest at Buffalo, as they could only account for two field goals by the end of the third quarter. Kansas City was trailing, 7–6, in the final quarter when Hank Stram decided to insert Len Dawson at quarterback. Dawson had been inactive since his knee injury at Boston on September 21, and even though he was not completely healed from his injury, Stram wanted to give his team a spark. Dawson did just that, throwing for 94 yards in the fourth quarter. The Kansas City defense also paved a discernable pathway to victory. Willie Lanier intercepted one Don Darragh pass to set up a score. Kansas City cornerback Jim Marsalis intercepted one as well, and fellow defensive back Johnny Robinson added two more thefts in the 29–7 win. The Chiefs were now 7–1, firmly atop the AFL Western Division standings. The winning streak continued the next week, when San Diego visited Municipal Stadium. If not for a first quarter Chargers field goal, the Kansas City defense would have recorded their third shutout of the season. As it was, the Chiefs dominated San Diego in practically every phase of the game in a 27–3 victory. Willie Lanier intercepted his third pass of the season, and the secondary contributed four more interceptions. But the big news of the game came when Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson started a game for the first time in seven weeks. He was not 100 percent, but his veteran leadership and experience was a viable boost for the Chiefs. It appeared as if Kansas City had somehow survived the most testing situation they had dealt with in years. Lanier was once again the catalyst in keeping the players grounded and focused; however, the reasons for the success of the defense were actually

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rooted as far back as many of the players’ college days, and they had to do with earning respect. “Well it [the defense’s success] was a combination of things,” explained Lanier. We go back to the time that we were able to come together to play. Many of us on the defense . . . Emmitt [Thomas], Buck [Buchanan], myself, [Jim] Kearney, [Jim] Marsalis . . . we all attended historic black colleges. So what happened was that an intersection of those who were not only from the American Football League, but the guys from the black colleges, had something to prove to everybody. We had the skill to play at the same level or as high a level as anybody could play. That anybody who wanted to question whether your skill set was equal to not just the white players, but the black players from the majority schools. We had something to prove. And collectively, bringing all of that together, the American Football League opening the door for African Americans from any school, then opening the door for those who went to black schools, and then being able to have every statistic that a [pro] defense would have . . . we made sure that every time we stepped on a field, all you saw was quality play. That was great quality play, because we didn’t really allow any of us to have hardly any penalties throughout the course of the year. And that was one that would probably be interesting to take a look at, because I would say that the ’69 Chiefs probably had fewer penalties than anybody could imagine. Because that was part of the process . . . that was part of the requirement. And that was part of the unspoken understanding that was required to have all of those things come together. 10

But just when the 8–1 Chiefs thought that they were coming together on Easy Street, some events were on the horizon that would pose possible threats to their plans. One was the fact that they were scheduled to visit the defending world champion New York Jets for their next game, and Coach Stram and the entire team knew the Jets were a much more difficult AFL opponent than the Chargers, Bengals, or Dolphins. The Jets posed a real challenge to the Chiefs, because they were

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healthy, had only lost twice all year, and possessed the type of personnel that made them one of the most balanced offensive and defensive attacks in pro football. Kansas City did not need any impetus in getting psyched up for the game. The other threat to the Chiefs was the death of Len Dawson’s father just prior to the game. The 1969 season supplied Dawson with more challenges than virtually any other player in pro football history, and the untimely death of his father was just one of the unfortunate situations that tested the veteran quarterback’s mettle. Fortunately for Dawson, he was surrounded by teammates—like Willie Lanier—who rallied around him and offered plenty of support. “The reality is that, going through the course of a season, the fan sees the football games being played,” explained Lanier. But everyone that actually played realized that it’s a real-life scenario. So if you lose someone . . . if you lose a parent . . . and you still obviously are trying to maintain responsibilities to the team, trying to accomplish those kinds of outcomes . . . trying to block the reality of what you will deal with once those games are over. Then you just try to be supportive with your sympathy, with your concern, with your interest of what that person has to deal with, knowing that they will give it their best effort. But you really aren’t sure how good it can be because all of us wonder how we would deal with the same thing. So the memory was one of just feeling very good about the fact that he (Dawson) would want to have the interest of maintaining his performance level even in the midst of that kind of tragedy, to get his work done athletically and then be able to go and be with his family at the services. . . . The question mark that you always have is whether something such as that would take away from performance. But when you see performance that is at its same level or even higher, you just appreciate it, because I think that human part is that you wonder how well you would’ve done in that same kind of circumstance. So you step back, you applaud it, you appreciate it, and you sympathize with it. 11

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The situation Dawson found himself in, first with his hand injury, then with his knee injury, and then with his father’s death, evoked an element of thoughtfulness and understanding in Lanier’s psyche, and in his inner feelings toward all of his teammates. Lanier’s words make one realize how fragile and unpredictable time and circumstances are in not only the realm of pro football, but also all walks of life. Lanier was maturing into a true team leader—and a solemn and empathetic friend. And he and many of his teammates attempted to draw inspiration in 1969 from their quarterback. “I’m not sure whether it [Dawson’s dilemmas] injected more determination,” said a contemplative Lanier. I think it’s one of recognizing that, unfortunately, things occur. And maybe in realizing that things do occur, you might’ve been a little bit more serious about playing and trying to get as much as you could out of the now, because all of us realize that things can change so quickly. I think from a personal standpoint, you all appreciate the time that you have to perform without tragedy. And, hopefully, if you could go ahead and do well, that could be something that was personal to you. 12

Dawson proved he could overcome his unfortunate state of affairs, throwing three touchdown passes to wide receiver Otis Taylor in Kansas City’s 34–16 gut-check win against the Jets. The Chiefs defense gave up 362 passing yards to Joe Namath, but they also intercepted three of his passes. Willie Lanier made eight unassisted tackles and broke up four of Namath’s throws. Lanier also stole one of Namath’s passes late in the contest and hauled it back 44 yards. On that play, several New York players tried to tackle Lanier but to no avail. Some rather comically bounced off of Lanier’s body, while others hung on for dear life in the hopes that some of their teammates might lend some support. Lanier was finally gang tackled, and the Chiefs had secured their ninth win of the season. When asked after the game if he could have gone all the way and scored a touchdown on his interception, Lanier commented, “I doubt it. I was out of gas. I felt as though I’d run a mile. If they hadn’t

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knocked me down, somebody would have had to pick me up and carry me.” 13 The Chiefs needed no such aid at this stage of the 1969 regular season. Things were looking relatively good in Kansas City. They had an AFL-best 9–1 record, good enough for first place in their division. Len Dawson was still not totally healthy, but he was able to see more action with each passing week. Down the stretch, the road got tougher, however, and the archrival Raiders were next up on the ledger. Oakland visited Municipal Stadium on November 23, and the Raiders brought the Chiefs back down to earth in an abrupt way. The Raiders took full advantage of several costly Kansas City mistakes, namely a season-worst five interceptions thrown by Len Dawson, to post a 27–24 win. “You can’t play a great team like Oakland and make the kind of mistakes we made today,” confirmed Hank Stram. “Everything that happened was self-inflicted.” 14 The game indeed left a bad taste in the mouths of every member of the Chiefs. The Raiders now owned first place in the AFL’s Western Division. The loss to Oakland was particularly galling, since two of Dawson’s interceptions were returned for touchdowns. Adding insult to injury was the fact that Kansas City outgained Oakland in total yardage, 436 to 262. There was no disguising this particular loss for Willie Lanier. He quickly acknowledged the extent of the team’s failures and the frustration that accompanied them. “There were a couple of interceptions for touchdowns by the Raiders,” Lanier recalled. Those are some of the things you can’t get away from. If you throw interceptions, it’s bad enough to just have the turnover. If you have the turnover become a touchdown, it’s almost a double-edged sword. It makes it even worse. So the Raiders–Chiefs rivalry was one that you really couldn’t be sure until the game was completely over, because those rivalries were just that. The rivalry was extreme. It was one that you always sought to beat them whenever you had a chance, and we weren’t real successful at that a lot. We did it when it was important, but we had difficulty at times with the Raiders. 15

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Lanier was not the only man who promptly noticed the difficulties and forlorn moments the game against Oakland produced. Hank Stram also saw the struggle for what it was—a grand opportunity that was wasted. “Just to think our defense just gave up (only) 10 points,” said Stram. “It was terrible for them to lose that game.” 16 Nevertheless, Willie Lanier was poised enough to know that situations like this happen on occasion on the football field. At times, one segment of the team will function better than another, and the Oakland Raiders could easily force you into seeing one (or more) of the aspects of your game suffer. Despite this, Lanier did not allow the loss to affect his point of view. “There was a lot of thought as to how to manage reality,” said Lanier, “and how you try to give your team a better chance of having some success. Because that was your rival, and that was the one that you expected there at the end of the season. You’ve got to beat them or they’ve got to beat you . . . for you (or them) to have a great year.” 17 Next the Chiefs were scheduled to play another divisional rival—the Denver Broncos—in a home game on Thanksgiving Day. This was a must-win game for Kansas City, because they could ill-afford to lose to any team at this point in the season, especially a team with only four wins. Whether it was due to a short week with hardly any time to prepare for the challenge Denver presented, no one really knows for sure. But the Chiefs were guilty of giving a lackluster showing on Thanksgiving. The offense could account for only 133 passing yards, as Len Dawson and Mike Livingston split time at quarterback. Kansas City nevertheless still managed to notch a 31–17 victory, and that was the most important thing to consider. When looking at the functional ideas behind the team’s overall strategy, Coach Stram knew the defense could not be expected to shut out their opponents every week. Thus, the offense was still going to have to find a way to produce more points. The decision was to run the ball more and include an unexpected pass every now and then. “Coach Stram could still run his offense,” said Lanier.

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Maybe not as much from a deep passing standpoint. But (he would) still be able to run a reasonably conservative offense, keeping the ball on the ground, trying to control the clock. But he also wanted to be able to strike when the opportunities occurred, because you still had the great wide receivers [Otis Taylor and Frank Pitts]. So it [the Chiefs offense in the wake of Dawson’s injury] was one of being able to tweak, if it were, some of the things that Mike would do that Lenny could do better. But the whole reality was that the score had to be kept under control so you didn’t find yourself behind and then have to try to push or extend to have a chance to win. 18

Hank Stram was not above doing whatever it took to aid his team’s chances of winning football games. And whether either man admitted it, Coach Stram had been influencing Willie Lanier to at least some degree by the time 1969 had rolled around. Stram’s proclivity for employing gadget (or trick) plays on offense was acknowledged throughout the league’s coaching ranks. Similarly, Lanier was not above searching for and using key elements of defensive strategy or nuances in plays or formations to fool his offensive opponents. The idea of copying something that is successful is as old as the sport itself, and there was (and still is) no shame in using those tactics. Willie Lanier would be the first to tell you that even today, businesses continue to achieve and sustain success by repeating trends that often brought about success. With Coach Stram, that repetition relied on his own individual sense of creativity. “I think if you look back at Hank Stram’s career,” said Lanier, it was one of tinkering with [and] always looking for the edge. Looking for something that would be a little bit different. Trying to find an advantage that could be to his true advantage. So, if you look at trick plays, you look at fake field goals. If you look at different alignments, you look at something that the defense was not used to seeing. So it didn’t matter as much who on his side was running it. It was the fact that the defense was seeing something they were not used to seeing; therefore, [there] would still be an advantage to him.

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One of the things that you want to do is to be able to score in many ways during the course of a game. Obviously, on offense and on defense. But then on special teams, too. If you can score on a kickoff return, or on punt returns, that really gives you a continuing chance to have the kind of outcomes that you want to have. 19

Both Stram and Lanier were undoubtedly feeling pretty good about the outcomes the team had achieved up to this point on their ledger. Two games remained in Kansas City’s 1969 regular season. In what turned out to be the final game of the year at Municipal Stadium, the Chiefs outlasted the Buffalo Bills, 22–19, thanks largely to five Jan Stenerud field goals, the decisive one of which in the fourth quarter proved to be the winning points. Willie Lanier continued to be his ever-active self, as one of his jarring tackles of star Buffalo tailback O. J. Simpson resulted in a key fumble recovered by Chiefs defensive back Willie Mitchell, which led to one of Stenerud’s field goals. Lanier always felt it was a special challenge when he went up against a big-name runner like Simpson. Lanier’s preparation was once again the key to him controlling the ground gains of the man who would soon become known as “The Juice.” Lanier studied the types of moves Simpson used. He knew Simpson had more speed and quickness than most runners, so Lanier was going to have to get to the open holes and fill them more rapidly, while making sure he did not fall for any of the juke moves that served as Simpson’s trademarks. Indeed, every defender in the league wanted to avoid losing a footrace to Simpson, an occurrence that seemed to happen every week. The idea for Lanier was simple: The more tackles he could make on Simpson’s runs, the fewer first downs Buffalo would earn. Lanier succeeded in this goal, and, as a result, he kept Simpson and the rest of the Buffalo offense on the bench for much of the game. Hank Stram decided to keep Len Dawson on the bench as well but for a much different reason. He felt that Dawson’s knee was still not totally healed, despite the urging coming from his quarterback that his knee was fine.

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“He appears to be okay,” Stram insisted, “but I didn’t want to take a chance using him anymore after he bumped his knee, since we had a 17–3 lead.” 20 Kansas City traveled to Oakland for their final contest of the regular season. They had Dawson back in the starting lineup, but Coach Stram decided to revise his offensive strategy to suit the situation. Dawson attempted only six passes, as Stram preferred to avoid any potential injuries to his veteran signal caller. The game plan on offense called for running the ball—and running it a lot. “I couldn’t believe it,” said Oakland defensive tackle Tom Keating, upon witnessing the constant Kansas City rushing attempts. “They’d run it on third and three, third and four, third and nine. I knew they’d try and run at us. But not that much.” 21 Willie Lanier and the Chiefs defense played a much better game against the Raiders than in their previous meeting on November 23. But the Kansas City defense still could not stop Oakland quarterback Daryle Lamonica from throwing the game-winning touchdown pass in the fourth quarter. The Raiders once again defeated the Chiefs, 10–6. Oakland finished the regular season by again triumphantly winning the AFL Western Division with a 12–1–1 record. And Kansas City again ended up in second place with an 11–3 record. Both teams were destined to meet one more time in just a few weeks, however. “It was upsetting to lose the game to the Raiders again,” admitted Lanier, who for the second straight year was named to the All-AFL team, “because we had lost the year before in such a terrible way at the end of the season.” He continued, And to only throw the ball six times and lose by four points. From a defensive standpoint, if we hold you to 10 points, we’re supposed to get at least 11, because that’s the kind of offense we knew we had. But by going conservative on the offense, not really throwing the ball a lot, you don’t come away with the win. You’re in the playoffs, but you’re still upset that you let the Raiders win one more time. 22

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Hank Stram acknowledged Lanier’s opinions at this particular stage of the season. But he also voiced his own logical opinion as the postseason beckoned for the Chiefs. “I’m disappointed,” he said following the loss at Oakland, “but we know we’re still in the playoffs and we have to win three games to win it all.” 23

5 THE 1969 AFL PLAYOFFS

For the Kansas City Chiefs, the 1969 AFL playoffs were epic in nature and historical in legend. To start things off, Hank Stram’s team faced the New York Jets on December 20, in the divisional round, which marked the second time in 1969 that they visited the Jets’ home field in the Big Apple. The Chiefs had little trouble in their first encounter on November 16, defeating the defending world champions by a score of 34–16. Stram and his players knew the Jets presented a much more formidable challenge the next time around, however. The winner earned the right to play the Oakland Raiders in the AFL Championship Game. But neither the Jets nor the Chiefs were concerned about the Raiders at this point. Willie Lanier and the Kansas City defense had been making things tough for opposing rushing attacks throughout the season, giving the Chiefs a good measure of self-confidence. “It was the fact that we felt that we had the dominant defense,” explained Lanier. We did not have any players who were injured on defense the whole year. We hadn’t given up any 100-yard rusher, or maybe any team to rush for 100 yards that season. And we had guys who could play. We had six guys off of that defense who are in the Hall of Fame. So we just had talent, and having the talent and being able to execute. 1

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(Author’s note: Lanier is mistaken on this quote, but he is to be forgiven for his recollection from five decades ago. Only two teams gained more than 100 rushing yards against the Chiefs defense in 1969. Buffalo ran for 105 yards on November 2, and Oakland earned 120 ground yards on November 23, and 102 yards on December 13.) The Chiefs needed every bit of their talent to surface in their playoff matchup against the Jets. Coach Stram’s team knew Joe Namath had a below-average outing the first time the teams had met. Everyone expected Namath’s performance to improve the second time around. Moreover, the Jets defense had not played as well as usual in that first meeting, during which they allowed Kansas City to account for 424 total yards and 23 first downs. Few knowledgeable fans thought a repeat of that performance would occur in the next contest. Despite all this, the Chiefs were excited to be playing in the postseason. “Going to New York to play the Jets in that playoff game was . . . well, first, it was a thrill to be in the playoffs,” said Willie Lanier. “The weather at Shea Stadium was windy and cold [33 degrees] that day.” 2 In point of fact, the weather at Shea Stadium, especially late in the year, was always windy. Teams had to adjust their lineups and game plans to account for the detrimental weather in Queens. To say the Jets had a home-field advantage and were used to those kinds of elements would be false. No team could effectively grow accustomed to throwing the ball in those turbulent winds, even a team with a rocket-armed quarterback the likes of Joe Namath on the roster. The unpredictable 30-mile-per-hour winds also held up the speed of every wide receiver as they ran their pass routes. Watching the film from that Chiefs–Jets playoff game, you can see the dirt from the field flying in the players’ faces throughout the contest. Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson’s recollections add even more visual descriptions. “The field was just terrible,” admitted Dawson. “It was awful. The wind was really blowing, and they had one open end where the wind would come through, and it wouldn’t be going one way. It would be swirling. So it was a murderous day for quarterbacks and kickers. The wind was treacherous that game.” 3

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Was there in actuality a home-field advantage? Not according to Willie Lanier. “I didn’t really think that [the idea of a home field advantage] was legitimate,” assessed Lanier. Really, you come to play, and you kick the other team’s behind. I don’t give a damn whether we’re in New York or not. If you are looking for your home field to give you some advantage . . . I don’t really understand how that could be the case. Because all it is, is you and the other 10 guys who are out there on the field, and how they perform on each play will determine whether you win or lose. 4

The early moments of the playoff game at New York foreshadowed what kind of struggle this was going to be. For aficionados of defensive football, this contest was considered to be a masterpiece. Few offensive drives were going to be sustained on this day against two outstanding defenses, both of which were playing at peak performance. The Jets managed to have their best offensive drive of the day early in the first quarter. It lasted for 11 plays and concluded with a 27-yard field goal from New York placekicker Jim Turner. That accomplishment by the Jets did not faze the Chiefs defense in the least. They proceeded to shut down Namath and the rest of the New York offense throughout the first half and did not permit another Jets score until the fourth quarter. In contrast, the Chiefs offense seemed to be treading water. They were able to put together several successive first downs, only to be stopped near midfield by New York’s defense. Kansas City placekicker Jan Stenerud managed to kick a 23-yard field goal on the first play of the second quarter, which tied the game at 3–3. But Stenerud also missed a 44-yard attempt, as the wind blew it wide to the right of the upright. The contest was tied going into the third quarter. Both offenses were trying to run the ball during much of the first half, but they had little success. Both quarterbacks were throwing the ball only short distances, with their targets being mainly their running backs coming out of the backfield. The Chiefs offense did manage to progress deep enough into New York territory during the third quarter,

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however, to allow for another Stenerud field goal, boosting Kansas City’s lead to 6–3. By the early stages of the fourth quarter, Joe Namath was getting frustrated. He had thrown plenty of incompletions and had already thrown two interceptions. But Namath kept throwing (he accounted for 40 attempts in this game), and he eventually marked Chiefs cornerback Emmitt Thomas as his victim. A deep throw by Namath midway in the fourth quarter intended for New York wide receiver George Sauer fell incomplete, but Thomas was flagged in the Chiefs end zone for interference. The ball was placed at the Kansas City one-yard line, and the Jets appeared to be ready to cash in on the biggest break of the game. They were 36 inches away from seizing the lead in this playoff struggle. Football sometimes gives you an opportunity for greatness—but only for a fleeting moment. If you fail to recognize and act on it, or if you hesitate to act, the moment vanishes in an instant, never to return. What do you do with that one moment that the game gives you? Knowing what we have already observed in the young life of Willie Lanier, we know he was prepared for almost everything he saw on the football field. He was determined not to be fooled by his foes on the gridiron—and he rarely, if ever, was. For Lanier and his Kansas City defensive mates, that one moment where greatness could be obtained and pro football history could be made occurred in this game. Today, it is termed a “signature moment.” It was a scene where Lanier’s raw emotion made one of its few public showings, making it unique. That emotion melded magically with the strategic decisions of Lanier and his teammates on three plays from the Kansas City one-yard line, as the Jets threatened to score the go-ahead touchdown. “Heading down the field, a lot of our players had their heads down and bowed, and were dejected,” remembered Lanier. “Concessions are starting to be accepted that they [Lanier’s defensive teammates] felt we were going to lose. And my reality was that such was not a concession we could make.” 5 Lanier started chanting in the Chiefs defensive huddle. “They’re not going to score,” he said in a normal tone. Then he said it again in a

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louder voice. He expressed that same sentiment again even louder, and by this time, several of his defensive teammates had started joining in— “They’re not going to score!” By the fifth or sixth rendition, Lanier was pacing along the line of scrimmage, and even the offensive players in the Jets huddle had turned around, watching and listening to the Chiefs defensive players. A few simple words had resonated with the Kansas City players in the huddle, as well as those on the bench, and if one believes in legends and miracles, they also traveled through the television microphones on the sidelines and into thousands of homes in Kansas City and throughout the state of Missouri. 6 “He was begging us . . . tears were running down his cheeks,” observed Emmitt Thomas. 7 Thomas added, “He was hysterical, crying and screaming. Willie went up and down the line begging us to stop them. He said we’d worked since July for this and couldn’t throw it away. We saw real tears coming down his cheeks.” 8 Willie Lanier and the Chiefs defense made no pretense of their actions—they were going to homestead the 36 inches in front of the Kansas City goal line. “It really happened that way,” Lanier said. I tried to cause the rest of the team to feel the way I did. I had to get very active to get the others to play above their usual level. You can’t do it often. You can’t play every four downs all the time at that pitch. But you never know when an opportunity will present itself again, so it was time to rise up to the challenge. 9

Lanier added, So my reaction was one of just trying to inspire the guys, to ramp them up. I wanted to let them understand that we had worked a whole year, a whole season to get back into this position, and because of an interference penalty, we were not going to concede anything. They had to earn that yard. They had to earn those 36 inches. But in doing that [firing up his defensive teammates], I also realized that you have to do something to help quell the response, because the team is there on first down. What do you do? So one part

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that I found very quickly was that you aren’t able to have words without actions and have them mean anything. We had to do everything we could to hold them. I was not one to sit back and let the play start and then try to get into the play, because that gave the offense an advantage. So it was one of just trying to disrupt. 10

On first down, New York running back Matt Snell grabbed the ball from Namath’s hands and ran to his right on a basic off-tackle run. Almost immediately, Kansas City safety Johnny Robinson torpedoed low into the line of scrimmage on a force play, through a small hole that exposed Snell for just a millisecond. Robinson’s timing had never been better. First, and most importantly, he had to make sure he did not go offsides prior to the snap of the ball. Had he done so, the Chiefs would have been flagged for a penalty, which would have called for a replay of the down, placing the ball just 18 inches from the goal line. Next, Robinson had to make a strong hit on Snell to stop the burly running back in his tracks. Robinson did just that, hitting Snell in his knees. Before Snell could lunge forward and into the end zone, Willie Lanier poured through the line of scrimmage and hit him in his upper torso. In true Lanier fashion, the Honeybear instantaneously wrapped his arms around Snell and brought him down to the ground. “I’m thinking it’s going to be a running play,” said Lanier in describing New York’s initial play from the one-yard line. So realizing that the quarterback is not going to be using a long count, because his guys are anxious to try to get a play started. The Jets had to go on a relatively quick count, because if they have any motion on the one-yard line, it becomes a five-yard penalty. If I’m offsides, it’s no big deal. It’s just a 50 percent penalty, where the ball goes from the one-yard line to the one-half-yard line. So my view was that Namath would have to go on a relatively quick count, so if he didn’t go on the first sound, he was going to have to go on the second. So all that I would have to do is not try to throw somebody out of the way, which you are unable to do if you weigh 250 pounds, and they [the Jets’ offensive linemen] weigh 280 pounds, and they

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have their hands down in a three-point stance. All you have to do is step between them. So instead of waiting for the ball to be snapped, I started to move. Going after the second sound, I stepped between the guard and the center, and disrupted the running play [the Jets lost a half-yard]. And then instead of it being 2nd and 1 or 2nd and a half of a yard, it was 2nd and 1 and a half yard. So that sort of gave us the bump. You could feel the surge of energy that we quelled the first play. 11

Lanier’s mantra “They’re Not Going to Score!” continued after that first play near the Kansas City goal line. On second down, Namath sent fullback Bill Mathis on a straight dive play right through the middle of the pile of bodies that had formed just a couple of feet from the Kansas City goal line. Jim Lynch, the Chiefs outside linebacker, was no innocent bystander on this goal-line stand. He too wanted his share of the glory. He intruded into the Jets offensive backfield and wrapped his arms around Mathis’s legs, stopping his forward progress. Not even a full second later, Willie Lanier pounced on Mathis, and just as he had done to Snell on first down, Lanier pulled Mathis to the ground on second down. “We were able to jam it up,” said Lanier. “It was one of creating a problem and disrupting them.” 12 The New York offense still had not crossed the goal line, and the tension of the moment had filled the thoughts of every person in Shea Stadium. Joe Namath was probably experiencing considerable consternation at this point. In two plays, he could not get his offense into the end zone on two of the most basic plays any offense can run. He may have lost some measure of faith in his running game after being unable to move the ball forward that short distance. He also knew the Chiefs’ defensive line was surging forward with lightning quickness. Namath was going to have to try something a little more complicated on third down to take advantage of Kansas City’s penetration into his backfield. Lanier anticipated Namath’s plan, however, and immediately warned the rest of the Chiefs defense against overcommitting along the

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line of scrimmage. He also told his teammates to be prepared for something like a play-action pass from Namath. Lanier’s assertions were well-founded and prophetic. But he did not really have to warn his fellow defenders about what was coming. They had already been schooled and knew what the Jets were planning. The strain of the moment was evident, as the outcome of the game and a chance to play in the AFL Title Game were on the line. With the chant “They’re Not Going to Score!” still emanating from the Kansas City defensive players, Namath did exactly what Lanier suspected he would do on third down. Upon receiving the ball, Namath faked a quick pitch to Snell, who was sprinting out of the backfield. Namath faked a handoff to Mathis, who plowed straight into the middle of the mass of humanity that was the center of the line of scrimmage. Finally, Namath rolled out to his right. By this time of his pro career, Namath’s knees were not in the best of shape, having undergone several surgeries. Thus, no one on the Chiefs defense expected him to keep the ball. His intent was to throw to the end zone. But Namath did not fool Kansas City linebackers Bobby Bell and Jim Lynch. Nor did he fool Jim Kearney, who Namath probably expected to remain in the end zone in pass coverage. Kearney reached Namath first and hit the quarterback’s knees, causing him to lose his balance. Bell then hit Namath above his waist and wrapped his arms around him. Lynch came onto the scene for good measure with a full head of steam and pounded Namath to the ground. Namath got his lackluster pass off just before he hit the dirt but did not have any receivers near the ball and it bounced off the ground. “Bobby Bell, being a great outside linebacker and understanding the way the game was played, didn’t take Namath’s fake,” said Lanier. “Bell wasn’t going to be fooled. He was able to get the position that he needed to take away the pass on the outside. The defensive rush, because it was a third-down situation, got to Namath, and he threw the ball into the ground.” 13 Namath was miffed after the play, feeling that Lanier might go for the fake to Mathis and that Bell might, too. Neither man did, however.

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Chiefs defensive backfield coach Tom Bettis confirmed that the strategy on the play was no fluke. “We had decided to hold a strongside linebacker out there in the flat [the open area between the tight end or the offensive tackle and the wide receiver],” said Bettis. “That was Bell. It was our intention to have Bobby out there.” 14 New York settled for a field goal to tie the game at 6–6. But the Chiefs defense had kept the Jets from scoring what would have been the go-ahead touchdown. They had held off the storied New York offense in one of the greatest goal-line stands in pro football playoff history. “I don’t have any doubt in my mind that if we don’t assert ourselves at that point, if the Jets score [a touchdown], it’s a different ballgame,” said Lanier. But it was one of those, as I recall, a psychological breakpoint in the event. I expect and can see that in many games. That in a game being highly fought, you can see how one team just tends to crack. It’s not something that’s planned for. But I think it’s just one of those kinds of resignations or acceptances that you fight from ever accepting. 15

That goal-line stand could be declared the turning point of the Chiefs’ 1969 season, even though it came late in the year. Regardless of where they rank in the pantheon of great plays in Kansas City pro football history, those three downs in Shea Stadium were—and still are—memorable for Lanier and his teammates. “It was the most inspirational thing I’ve ever gone through on a football field,” said defensive end Jerry Mays. There has never been a group of men closer together than we were then. Emotion? You should have seen what was going on in that defensive huddle. There was Willie Lanier, our middle linebacker, the ol’ Honeybear, with the tears streaming down his face, yelling, “Dammit, they’re not going to score!” All the offensive guys, even people like Jim Tyrer, who never open their mouths, were standing there on the sidelines yelling and shaking their fists. I want to tell

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you, there was some emotion out there. Something came over Willie, and then it came over all of us. After we stopped ’em I just knew that it was going to turn the game around. 16

Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson was also standing along the sidelines with the rest of the Chiefs offense, reserve players, and coaching staff. He was one of many who could hear the chants of “They’re Not Going to Score!” He is also one of many who has spoken fondly of that special moment. “I probably witnessed, I can’t say the best, but one of the greatest goal-line defenses that I have ever seen,” confirmed Dawson. We had a special defense and special people on that defensive team. Willie Lanier . . . I know that he called the defensive signals. I know that he said to his teammates, “We worked too damn long and too hard to give it up now. Somehow we gotta stop these guys from scoring a touchdown.” They did stop them from scoring a touchdown. So they kick a field goal and tie the score, which was a tremendous relief to the guys on the offensive side of the ball, because now, a field goal wins it. We don’t need a touchdown to catch them. I know that I was inspired by the great defensive stand. 17

Jim Lynch’s memories of the event have had the benefit of many years of contemplation. Nevertheless, the verdict did not leave any questions. The Chiefs defense had accomplished a great feat. “Well I think that there’s a little bit of Hollywood in that [goal-line stand],” surmised Lynch in a 2006 interview. But certainly he (Willie Lanier) was very emotional. He was a very emotional player. I don’t think you can play defense without emotion. It was interesting to watch. On certain occasions, he could ratchet it up another notch, another two notches. And the great ones can do that. He was certainly a great one. That was one of those times. He just jammed [it] up, absolutely. There was nobody going to go through the middle. It was just one of those magical moments for the defense. 18

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The goal-line stand enacted by Lanier and the defense is of legendary status. But it would be scarcely remembered as even a footnote in pro football history if the Kansas City offense had not been able to score the winning points. Time was still on both teams’ sides, however, as the fourth quarter was still less than five minutes old. Dawson and the offense gained few ground yards, and throwing the ball was tricky with the swirling winds still playing a role. Nevertheless, Dawson decided to throw caution—and the ball—to the wind (pun somewhat intended). He threw deep down the near sideline for star wide receiver Otis Taylor, who was fighting the wind, which was blowing right into his face, as he ran his pattern downfield. Taylor’s main worry was to properly gauge the effect of the wind gusts on Dawson’s arching pass. This he did, as he beat New York defensive back Bill Baird to the ball before it hit the ground or flew out of bounds. Taylor then spun around Baird and past the safety’s feeble grasp, as he sprinted for the open area in the middle of the field. He was finally tackled by Jets defenders Cornell Gordon and Al Atkinson at the New York 19-yard line. It was a 61-yard gain that gave the Chiefs an enormous shot in the arm. “If you have those very bad weather conditions, you know that it’s going to be a close game,” explained Lanier. “Every play that you don’t get goes at a premium. So you have the game tied, and then to have a big play from Taylor is huge, because when you think of a game like that, and you have that much yardage on one play, that puts you in great position.” 19 On the very next play, Dawson again took advantage of a play-action pass, this one going across the field in the corner of the New York end zone, where his other wide receiver, Gloster Richardson, had beaten Cornell Gordon by slightly more than a step. Richardson caught Dawson’s perfect pass for what turned out to be the winning score. Richardson was not the primary receiver as the play was designed, but Dawson noticed that he was more open than setback Mike Garrett, who was the initial target. “They covered Mike well,” said Dawson, “Gloster was clear on the other side.” 20

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According to Hank Stram, “It [the back and forth, ebb and flow of the divisional playoff struggle] was like a checker game. Everybody was waiting for that one big move.” 21 Richardson’s touchdown was a big move that set off an eruption of cheers along the Kansas City sidelines, but Willie Lanier knew the game was still not decided. He knew there was plenty of time remaining for Joe Namath to lead his offense down the field. Namath did exactly that—twice, in fact. But the Chiefs had come too far to be denied. With less than two minutes on the clock, and with the ball once again deep in Kansas City territory, cornerback Jim Marsalis leaped in front of wide receiver Bake Turner and intercepted Namath’s final pass of the 1969 season. Kansas City had survived this tough playoff test, 13–6, and was headed to the AFL Title Game. “I got a great amount of enjoyment out of that game,” said Lanier. “To me, it was the essence of true competition.” 22 The next team the Chiefs were slated to play certainly inspired its fans. The Oakland Raiders had lost only four games in the previous three years. Moreover, they had given Kansas City two of its three regular-season losses in 1969. The silver and black were riding a sevengame winning streak, including a robust 56–7 rout of the Houston Oilers in the divisional playoffs, heading into what was the final AFL Championship Game. Due to a unique scheduling situation, there were two weeks of off time for the Chiefs until the kickoff against the Raiders on January 4, 1970. That break from the rigors of the game suited Lanier and his teammates just fine. The AFL Title Game was going to be played in Oakland, so Coach Stram wanted his players to get acclimated with the weather in California. So, the Chiefs went west for practice. “I remember that we had gone out to Santa Barbara, California, to train,” recalled Willie Lanier. Going out to Santa Barbara [and] getting us away from Kansas City, when the weather is very bad in the winter, was a great opportunity. It was an opportunity to sort of refresh, invigorate, be around each other in a very pleasant environment. It was an opportunity to pre-

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pare for what was going to be the most important game, at that point, in our lives. 23

Lanier was not kidding. The Chiefs had not come this close to a Super Bowl berth since 1966. Coach Stram and his veteran players knew that these opportunities did not come around often. Some teams never have the chance to get this far, and there were no guarantees that Kansas City would get this far again. They knew they had to do everything in their power to defeat the Raiders. “Because we had gone into New York and played in very tough weather conditions and had been able to win, and having two weeks’ time to be able to prepare, rejuvenate, and be refreshed out in California, [was a very good thing],” Lanier said. “I believe that going into that game in Oakland was one that we really had the energy in front of us to be able to try to have an outcome that we were trying to see.” 24 For Willie Lanier, the Kansas City game plan could not have been more difficult. Lanier and company were tasked with stopping the highest-scoring team in the league. “We recognized that we had a role,” confirmed Lanier. We had a very important role of keeping the Oakland score as low as possible. As long as we did our job [on defense] well, then at times the offense would have miscues. They might not quite produce what was expected. But I think we also understood that with Stenerud being there, they didn’t always have to score a touchdown. They could have the possibility of getting into position, and we could get three points instead of seven. So my view was one that if each part continued to do what they had done, and do it well, we still would have a chance to be successful. 25

Every player on both teams knew this contest was special. The Oakland Raiders versus the Kansas City Chiefs was, in many ways, the reward for those diehard AFL fans who had stuck with the league during the 1960s. It was a rivalry that differed from most of those in the older NFL, mostly because neither the Raiders nor the Chiefs had any pretense about what they were trying to do on offense. They both

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employed a wide-open, throw-the-ball-deep-downfield attack and planned to “tally as many points as [they could] until the scoreboard overheat[ed].” Thus, the AFL provided a stark contrast to the stuffy, conservative, “run-the-ball-down-your-opponent’s-throats” type of offense presented by the teams of the NFL. The rivalry between the two teams was as even as it could get. They had split their previous 22 games, with each team winning 11 times. This AFL Title Game determined which team would go down in history. The winning team would be the only AFL franchise to represent the fledgling league in two of the first four Super Bowls. Kansas City appeared in Super Bowl I, and Oakland bore the AFL standard in Super Bowl II. Willie Lanier had seen the Raiders up close at least twice each season for his three years in pro football. He knew their strengths and weaknesses. He also hinted at the thoughts behind Kansas City’s defensive focus. “This was obviously our biggest rival,” Lanier said of Oakland. With them being the nemesis, and the one that we had to constantly concern ourselves with beating. I think it [the game] was one of realizing that if we could weather the storm, so to speak [we would be okay]. Because at times the Raiders could score in bunches, and they would come at you constantly. You had to realize that one or two breakdowns on a defensive standpoint could put you out of a game. I believe [you] had to look at it quarter by quarter. As long as we could keep them off the scoreboard, and as long as we could control that part of the game, and not let them get into a pretty big flow, that they might become more frustrated, because that’s the way that team was structured. So if you could continue to keep them off the board, then it allowed you a chance to offset anything that was happening during the game, and it gave you a chance to be able to hopefully win in the end. 26

The weather was rather different than what the Chiefs had been forced to endure in New York two weeks prior. They walked onto the field in brilliant sunshine, with the temperature at 52 degrees and a slight 11-mile-per-hour breeze.

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Oakland kicked off to Kansas City before the teams settled into a point and counterpoint struggle. An exchange of punts dominated the first quarter, but by the end of the opening frame the Raiders were nearing a score. From the Kansas City three-yard line, Raiders halfback Charlie Smith took a handoff and ran a basic slant to his left. Fullback Hewritt Dixon leveled outside linebacker Jim Lynch, and guard Jim Harvey bowled over strong safety Jim Kearney. Smith pranced around that wreckage to score untouched. The Oakland formula for victory was working to the tune of a 7–0 lead as the game entered the second quarter. “But I think when you try to look back some years later,” Lanier conveyed, and as it related to the Raiders if they were scoring early in that game, maybe I expressed the fact, “That’s it, they won’t score anymore.” It probably becomes one of looking back to the previous week. We think about the New York Jets and what happened in New York. We were able to offset a score that allowed us to be in a position to win. So playing the Raiders in Oakland, it was always one of trying to inspire your guys to realize that any play becomes a play that you can lose a game or give up a score. So I think it would be reasonable that I might have probably said that that would be the last score that they would make because you want to inspire your guys. You want to keep the confidence and the focus where it needed to be. So those were the kind of games that many comments like that to your own players would occur, because they had to be said and done if you wanted a chance to win. 27

At this point, the game started to get bogged down. Both teams staged a punting duel for the next six possessions, as both defenses achieved much success against the opposing offenses. Near the end of the first half, however, the Chiefs offense was finally showing signs of life. Len Dawson was situated near midfield when he threw deep down the far sideline for his secondary wide receiver, Frank Pitts, who had cleanly beaten cornerback Nemiah Wilson. Pitts caught Dawson’s 41yard bomb and was knocked out of bounds just one yard from the

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Oakland goal line. Kansas City halfback Wendell Hayes toted the pigskin up the gut and past that line on the next play, and the first half ended in a 7–7 deadlock. By now, Willie Lanier understood that the stronger defense would decide the winner of this game. In the second quarter, Lanier and the rest of his mates did a better job of plugging up holes in the line of scrimmage, and they continued to do the same in the third quarter. But the Raiders were, first and foremost, a passing team, especially with the AFL’s Most Valuable Player for 1969—Daryle Lamonica—as their quarterback. As a result, in the second half Kansas City’s defense was going to have to focus the majority of their attention on covering Oakland’s wide receivers and applying more pressure to Lamonica. Fortunately they were able to do just that. “Well I think one of the things that occurred was that Hank changed a little bit in terms of trying to disrupt the timing of Lamonica in the pocket,” said Lanier. The Raiders offense rather patented the timing patterns and the delivery of the quarterback. You want to disrupt that. So, he had [defensive ends] Aaron Brown and Jerry Mays do some looping, which I would call it when a defensive end lines up and sweeps inside of the defensive tackle. The tackle then goes outside. And it was all done to create a disruption of the timing [of the Oakland offense] and then try to maintain control of the running game after they scored so quickly and so early. So, it was one that you always realize that you were one play away from something bad happening. So, if you could keep the pressure on them, you hope that along the way they start to feel the fact that they aren’t getting it done. If that advantage continues to swing to you, and your offense gives you something, you have a chance to again be successful. 28

Lanier and the rest of the Kansas City defense remembered their two losses to Oakland earlier in the season. They knew that to defeat the Raiders in the AFL Title Game, they would have to reflect on their

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past mistakes, find ways to correct them, and, finally, turn up the level of their determination and hustle. “That’s the way I saw it,” admitted Lanier, regarding Kansas City learning from their recent past. So, that [the previous losses to the Raiders] set the stage going into Oakland. We already have a template that most people wouldn’t have understood, as I’m sharing it today. That’s what I remember from the way the structure occurred, up until I was to have a great confidence going in. That’s why we were able to dominate as we did. You’re looking from a defensive standpoint. We had established something mentally, about how you have to play it, and being able to bring all the defense together would give us a great opportunity to keep the score down under control. And they had a big offense. If they’re not scoring quickly, obviously they should start to have some concern and question about what’s happening to them. So, it’s one of just dominating and not allowing points to be on the board, and it served us well. 29

By halftime, Lanier felt that his team’s game plan was serving them well. But by the third quarter, however, a nervousness was settling in on both teams. Both offenses were taking more risks during their possessions in the second half, and several mistakes ensued. Oakland placekicker George Blanda missed his second field goal attempt at the beginning of the third quarter. Chiefs halfback Mike Garrett then committed what appeared to be a costly fumble that was recovered by the Raiders in Kansas City territory. It was at this moment that the Chiefs defense made their strongest stand of the game thus far. They refused to allow the Raiders to gain a single yard in three successive downs, and when Lamonica tried to throw the ball, his hand collided with defensive end Aaron Brown’s onrushing facemask. Lamonica and his wounded fingers required treatment from his trainer, and he was sidelined until later in the third quarter. But Lamonica was not the only player feeling some pain at this time. Chiefs safety Johnny Robinson was following the flight of an errant Oakland pass near the sidelines when his ribs met back judge Hugh

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Gamber’s head in a rather violent collision. Robinson left the game permanently with bruised ribs. Gamber was helped to his feet and continued with his officiating duties. The Raiders offense practically salivated at Robinson’s misfortune. They knew that his replacement was Willie Mitchell, and although Mitchell was a quality backup player, he did not possess the overall experience of a Johnny Robinson. Oakland immediately began to pick on Mitchell by throwing passes in his area. Lanier promptly countered this tactic by giving Mitchell some help from fellow defensive backs Jim Kearney and Emmitt Thomas. The strategy succeeded, as the Chiefs halted the Raiders onslaught. Then the Raiders halted themselves. Blanda missed another field goal. Then, while substituting at quarterback for Lamonica, he threw an interception. Oakland wide receiver Warren Wells slipped and fell as he was making a cut inside the Chiefs 10-yard line. Emmitt Thomas did not slip, however, and snared Blanda’s toss in his own end zone. Kansas City’s defense had taken some of Oakland’s best offensive punches, and it seemed that they had weathered the storm. “When I think back to that time that the defense was playing in that 1969 season,” Lanier recalled, “I believe we led the league in interceptions that year. So, many of us . . . the defensive backs and linebackers . . . we were rather adept at intercepting passes and trying to return them.” 30 (Author’s note: Kansas City’s defense led all of pro football— the AFL and NFL alike—with 32 interceptions in 1969.) Thomas was at the right place at the right time to intercept Blanda’s errant toss, but he then made what could have been a major mistake. Thomas saw an open area, so he tried to return the ball out of the Kansas City end zone. That open area closed quickly from both his left and right, however, as Wells, guard Gene Upshaw, and tight end Billy Cannon hemmed Thomas in and tackled the cornerback deep inside Chiefs territory. The Kansas City offense was not pleased about being stuck so close to their own end zone, knowing they had to find a way to advance the ball into better field position. Nonetheless, the entire team had to display some sense of optimism that their offense could get the job done. As related by Lanier, this may have been a good state of

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affairs that turned bad but then ultimately ended up good for the Chiefs. “We were not tentative about the interception,” admitted Lanier. We tried to make that a dominant play, where you not only intercept the ball, but you try to give the offense the ball back in much better position. So, with Emmitt making an interception in the end zone and then attempting to bring it out and unfortunately being tackled at the six-yard line . . . that was not something I obviously hoped for. It could be something that could have created a big problem in terms of field position if the offense is not able to do something with it. But I think what also occurs is that the other team then might think that they have an advantage, just because of where the ball is located. Hopefully, they might relax a tad in terms of how they try to stop you. And if that’s the case, then the rest of the way that series unfolded really put the Chiefs in great position. 31

The time was at hand for the Kansas City offense to throw some punches of its own. On a 3rd-and-14 situation from his own two-yard line, Len Dawson threw deep for his standout wide receiver, Otis Taylor. The lanky, gazelle-like pass catcher ran past and beat defensive backs George Atkinson and Willie Brown down the far sideline, before stretching for Dawson’s pass. He managed to tip the ball into his grasp for a 35-yard completion and a new set of downs for the Chiefs. The reception was not without its share of controversy, however. Field judge Bob Baur declared that Taylor managed to keep his feet in bounds while securing the ball, but replays showed that the play should have been ruled an incomplete pass. It was a judgment call, and Baur ruled in favor of Kansas City. Sometimes luck can have a big say in one or more key plays in a game. “You remember that you were elated that a play like that could be made,” said Lanier, because against the Raiders, you had to expect big plays at big times. And the thing about Otis Taylor was that he was such a gifted receiver that it was a joy. He was really a larger-than-life person, because

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he had all these skills. It was not like it was uncommon for him to have a big play. And to be able to have Lenny throw a ball along the sideline as far as it had to be thrown, and for Taylor to catch it with his left hand and to be in a position to get both of his feet inbounds . . . which I think some of them [the Raiders] wanted to argue whether he was inbounds or not . . . but of course he was (chuckle). It was the kind of play that becomes legend and becomes part of the lure of the Raiders–Chiefs rivalry. But you recognize that field position is probably one of the greatest things you have to always control, as far as the game is concerned. If you have a third down that you don’t convert or change that field position and the punter gives your opponent the ball back at midfield, you’re probably only one first down away from seeing your opponent get into field goal position. So, with the Dawson-to-Taylor play taking the ball out to almost midfield, you become joyful. But that’s only part of the process. You still need to move the ball and get either a field goal or a touchdown. You aren’t sure what else will now happen. But you have now quelled an opportunity for the Raiders by changing the field position. You now feel the field position becomes yours, because you’re the one who is now at midfield and not them. 32

The Chiefs offense managed to make use of their advanced field position. They did so by receiving some more good luck a few plays later, and once again it involved the noteworthy Taylor. Dawson threw for Taylor, who was running a down-and-out pattern against Nemiah Wilson. Both receiver and cornerback briefly collided, and then both men watched as the ball sailed out of bounds as an incompletion. Taylor and Wilson then saw a yellow penalty flag on the turf. Wilson had been called for pass interference on the play, which unnerved the Raiders and their fans to no end. The ball was placed at the spot of the foul, at the Oakland five-yard line. “I didn’t push him,” claimed Wilson. “It was the other way around. I had the ball [in my sights], and he pushed me.” 33 Taylor naturally disagreed with Wilson’s take on the play, but he did not necessarily disagree with the official’s call. “I’ve had calls go against me before,” Taylor said. “This time it went against him.” 34

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Fullback Robert “Tank” Holmes followed up the pass interference call by running a sweep to his left. He benefitted from key blocks by linemen Jim Tyrer and Ed Budde, and scored standing up. Kansas City had secured a 14–7 lead heading into the final quarter. The Chiefs defense could almost taste a title. Lanier and his teammates were literally flying through the air, diving from every angle, as they attempted to tackle Oakland’s ballcarriers. The Kansas City defenders knew they could not afford to surrender another first down to the Raiders. One more hard hit could cause a fumble and grant the Chiefs possession of the ball. Naturally, Oakland’s defense felt the same need to make some crucial hits of their own in the fourth quarter. Several fumbles and interceptions resulted from those hard hits during the game’s final 15 minutes. Holmes fumbled twice for Kansas City, but his mistakes were nothing compared to Lamonica’s misfortunes. The Oakland quarterback came off the bench following his hand injury and threw three interceptions in the fourth quarter. The first one was picked off by safety Jim Kearney. The second one was nabbed by rookie cornerback Jim Marsalis, after it was adroitly tipped by Willie Lanier. “Well you would think with that many intercepted balls, you would have a chance to really put the game away early,” Lanier surmised. But the offense unfortunately, uncharacteristically, continued to fumble. You don’t know what causes it. Obviously, it was not great control of the ball in the terms of ball security, if that’s the word today. But it was one that happened. What you had to do was not allow your frustration to affect the way you played when the defense had to go back on the field. So, it was one of having to play through a mental approach where you never allow any part of the game [to affect you]. Whatever the outcome was going to be, you were going to make it better. 35

This particular approach of Lanier’s concerning how he governed himself on a football field is symbolic of the man himself. It was not necessarily a cerebral plan, as is characteristic of Lanier. It was more of a hopeful approach, where he was determined to see things through

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and learn from mistakes and correct them as much as possible. It was a foundation for success that he would carry with him in future endeavors off the football field. But Willie Lanier found himself on a football field on January 4, 1970, playing for a league championship. He was in the midst of observing numerous miscues by his own team. Yet, he did not allow his perseverance to suffer or be diminished. If anything, he became even more determined. Willie Lanier and the Chiefs were about to make AFL history, with one more big play. Lamonica’s final interception of the season was that one big play, and it was the costliest to his team. Cornerback Emmitt Thomas had been keying on wide receiver Warren Wells all day. Thomas stepped in front of Lamonica’s pass, grabbed the ball, and sprinted his prize 62 yards. A 22-yard field goal by Jan Stenerud resulted, closing the scoring at 17–7. The Chiefs had pulled off the greatest victory of their 1969 season. They were the new AFL champions. “We beat one of the greatest teams in pro football,” said Hank Stram afterward. “Maybe the greatest.” 36 The football team that really owned that particular designation was going to be crowned in just one week’s time.

The Muck and the Mire. Willie Lanier takes a short break on the sideline of Kansas City’s mud-filled contest at Denver’s Mile High Stadium on October 5, 1969. The Chiefs won this game, 26–13. It marked the first of seven straight victories for Kansas City in their world championship season. Chiefs running back Wendell Hayes (#38) is standing to Lanier’s immediate left. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

The Kansas City Chiefs, like every other pro football club, would take both a team photo and individual player photos each year. Both would show the players minus their helmets so the public could better see and recognize their features. Willie Lanier is shown here simulating pass coverage by dropping back into a passing zone. His smile is undoubtedly intended for his teammates, who were awaiting their turn in front of the camera. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Willie Lanier takes a break, lounging on the bench while the Chiefs offense is on the field. Lanier usually got together with the rest of his defensive teammates when they were not on the field to go over assignments, discuss strategy, and talk about ideas that could work when they took the field. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Willie Lanier peers into the Denver Broncos offensive backfield prior to the snap of the ball. Denver quarterback Steve Tensi takes his stance behind center. Lanier played in 22 games against the Broncos during his career, with the Chiefs winning 14 of those contests. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

In the Kansas City Super Bowl season of 1969, Chiefs players watching the action on the field include (from left to right): linebackers Jim Lynch and Willie Lanier, and defensive backs Willie Mitchell and Emmitt Thomas. This quartet accounted for 17 interceptions during the 1969 regular season. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

With the Chiefs offense on the field, Willie Lanier observes their progress during a brief respite on the bench. Lanier was one of the physically strongest middle linebackers in pro football during his playing days. But despite his muscular strength, he was also one of the quickest middle linebackers in the NFL from 1967 to 1977. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Kansas City head coach Hank Stram required his players to be clean shaven at all times during the football season. This photo of Willie Lanier was taken during the years Stram was head coach. When Paul Wiggin replaced Stram in that role in 1975, many of the Chiefs players—Lanier among them—grew moustaches and/or beards. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Willie Lanier prepares for the snap of the ball in a 1971 game against the Washington Redskins. The addition of Lanier in 1967 made the Kansas City defense—which until 1966 had been a good defense—a great defense. Six defensive players from the 1969 Chiefs are members of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

The Lion in Winter. In the cold Kansas City winter as his pro football career wound down to its final moments, Willie Lanier could look back on both the winning and losing seasons. He has experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows the sport can produce. In the end, his legend is celebrated as one of the greatest—if not the greatest—middle linebackers in pro football history. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Enshrinement Day in Canton, Ohio. Willie Lanier takes a glory ride around the field at Fawcett Stadium on August 2, 1986. Lanier thus became the second Kansas City Chiefs linebacker to gain enshrinement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame (Bobby Bell was the first). Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Willie Lanier entered the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio, on August 2, 1986. The members of the Hall’s class of 1986 included (from left to right): Paul Hornung, Ken Houston, Lanier, Fran Tarkenton, and Doak Walker. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

Presentee and Presenter. Willie Lanier proudly holds his new bust on the front steps of the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio, on August 2, 1986. Late Kansas City Chiefs owner and American Football League founder Lamar Hunt (right) presented Lanier for induction into the Hall. Photo courtesy of the Kansas City Chiefs

A Perfect Likeness. Willie Lanier’s bronze bust is enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. Lanier was voted into the Hall of Fame in 1986. Photo courtesy of Joe Zagorski

Willie Lanier has stayed busy in recent years with a variety of charitable causes and programs. This photo, which was taken at the Waldorf Astoria hotel in New York City, is from March 14, 2006, when Lanier participated in the NFL’s Kickoff for a Cure program. Photo by Barry Talesnick – Ipol – Globe Photos

6 THE SUPER CHIEFS

The Kansas City Chiefs had come this far before in their history. Willie Lanier had not. The Chiefs were the AFL’s entrant in Super Bowl I in January 1967. They had lost that game to the dominating and legendary Green Bay Packers. During that one-sided affair, Willie Lanier was still a senior in college. There is no way to know how much influence Lanier would have had on Kansas City’s effort in that first Super Bowl. He would definitely be influential, however, when the team played the NFL champions—the Minnesota Vikings—in Super Bowl IV on January 11, 1970. The final Super Bowl before the NFL–AFL merger was played in New Orleans, Louisiana, in venerable Tulane Stadium. It was also to be played quickly in its scheduling. Usually, the time between the AFL and NFL Title Games (or, today, the AFC and NFC Championship Games) and the Super Bowl is two weeks. In the 1969 season, however, the preparation time for both teams playing in the Super Bowl was just one week, thereby limiting the number and length of practices. Both the Chiefs and the Vikings were going to have to rely on their quick film studies and hope that their abilities, experience, and athleticism would be enough to pull out a victory. Just as in any Super Bowl, various stories prior to the game enveloped the participants of Super Bowl IV. Willie Lanier and his teammates may have the benefit of retrospection today in understand113

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ing how certain situations came to be and how they reached an understandable conclusion. But in the week prior to the final game of the 1969 season, neither team knew for certain what to expect from the other. Nor did they know how specific circumstances were going to play out. One thing was for sure, however. The Chiefs, by all appearances, were facing more pressure than they wanted or needed at this time of the season. How individuals on the Kansas City team handled their issues ultimately had a say in determining the victor. Following what was termed by some observers as an “upset” win over the Raiders, the Chiefs wasted little time in jetting to New Orleans. The Vikings had lost only twice in 1969, and they beat some pretty tough teams en route to represent the NFL in Super Bowl IV. Most people felt they would easily reclaim the NFL’s dominance over the AFL, surrendered in Super Bowl III. Many pro football fans felt that the Jets’ shocking win against the Colts in that Super Bowl was little more than a fluke. As a result, the public once again heard plenty about the exploits of the stalwart Vikings, a team that had more than its share of star players. “In the line that opened, we were 13-point underdogs,” recalled Willie Lanier. But I really didn’t think that they could score 13 points. It seemed unreasonable because we could not see how they were going to score 13 points. So unless they scored 13 and we scored nothing, then that would be how the game would occur. So, our confidence was that such could not happen, because we didn’t believe that we would give up those kinds of points. We had only given up six to the Jets in New York, and they were the previous year’s Super Bowl champ. Then we only gave up seven to the Raiders with a number of turnovers in a game in Oakland. So, we felt that those offenses were more complex than the Viking offense. Obviously, you don’t know the outcome until the game is played, but from a confidence standpoint, we felt that we had such a dominating defense that they would be challenged to be able to get more than seven or 10 points. 1

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Willie Lanier had grown accustomed to being labeled an underdog, and he wore that badge somewhat proudly, as did his teammates, for several years. The veteran Chiefs players certainly knew they might never get a better chance to shock the pro football world. There were several reasons why Lanier and company felt somewhat confident going into Super Bowl IV. First, both their offensive and defensive front lines were bigger and stronger in the individual matchups than the men who comprised the Minnesota offensive and defensive lines. The Kansas City defensive line was known as the “Redwood Forest”—and for good reason. Defensive end Aaron Brown stood 6-foot-5 and weighed 255 pounds. Fellow defensive end Jerry Mays suited up at 6-foot-4, 252 pounds. The Chiefs defensive tackles might have been the best and strongest in pro football. Curley Culp (6-foot-2, 265 pounds) and Buck Buchanan (6-foot-7, 270 pounds) would both eventually be enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. “Well, it tilted the scale because it was not only just their size, it was their tremendous athleticism that added to their size and strength,” Lanier recalled. Curley Culp was previously an NCAA wrestling champion, and Buck Buchanan had the kind of movement and athleticism and grace, because he ran the 440 dash at Grambling, being a big guy at college. He didn’t just have the absolute force, because Buck could use all of his skills in a particular way that was only unique to him. Curley’s wrestling background allowed him to move in a different manner, not just coming upfield, but being able to control which side—right or left—but also which kind of movement to make. Because if I’m having one of them move one way and I move the other, then we are offsetting one another. We are creating problems for the offense. We could just do a lot of different things that could create problems, as to where we would try to attack. So, it was just one of having a great complement of skills . . . that having big guys who had great skills. And the results really spoke for themselves. 2

Lanier also commented,

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There was an inbred bias because of the view that the NFL had much stronger and more dominant teams than those of the AFL. So, you would’ve thought that the previous year with the Jets being able to beat the Baltimore Colts, it would be seen that the AFL was truly a strong league and could represent pro football well. But, unfortunately, it took another year of the Chiefs being a significant underdog for there to be a recognition. There was a lot of talent on our roster. 3

Second, the deficiency in practice time in all likelihood benefitted the Chiefs more than the Vikings, because Kansas City’s offense employed what was described as a “multiple” offense, which used constant shifts from their running backs, tight ends, and wide receivers before the snap of the ball. It was indeed a complex offense, and few were the defenses that could fully understand the tendencies and strategies the Chiefs were known to use on any given play. Becoming familiar with the Kansas City offense was a chore that often required more time for an opposing defense than one week. Third, the Chiefs defense was also a sophisticated defense. Adding to their immense size up front, the defense Hank Stram designed was not one typically seen in the NFL. Kansas City’s “stack” defense stood a fair chance of confusing the Vikings offense. Finally, Lanier and the rest of the Chiefs defense were also somewhat familiar with the Minnesota offense, because they had played them in the 1968 preseason (a 13–10 Kansas City victory). Most of the players on that Vikings team were the same men the Chiefs would face in Super Bowl IV. A quick film study of the basic offense Minnesota employed required some simple adjustments, something Kansas City head coach Hank Stram was more than able to facilitate. Within a few days, any feelings of apprehension or worry regarding what the Vikings might throw at them dissipated. The Chiefs defense knew what to expect from Minnesota’s offense and was prepared to counter their strategy. “We were pretty confident, maybe even more so than that,” Lanier commented.

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Having played them, we had a chance to see their talent. We had a chance to decide how we could play them and to devise a defense that included a pass coverage where you take away the deep ball to [Minnesota wide receiver] Gene Washington. You play split, you play zone maybe on one side, and you play man-to-man on the other side. And then with the defensive line that we had, we have a chance to control the line of scrimmage. And then being able to move Curley over to the nose [of the center] and have him disrupt at that point . . . we just have the ability to control the game. We really thought that they would only score if the [Kansas City] offense threw an interception or [committed] a fumble. That was our belief going into the game. 4

Despite Lanier’s optimism, he was aware that there were a couple of problems heading into the big game. First, the health of veteran safety Johnny Robinson was still questionable. It was obvious that Robinson wanted to play in the Super Bowl, and most of the players on the team felt Robinson would do whatever it took to play. During his college years, Robinson starred at Louisiana State University, and there were going to be plenty of his friends and family in New Orleans to cheer on their local product. No player ever wanted to deny his closest supporters a chance to watch him win a championship, and Johnny Robinson was no different. He spent every day prior to Sunday with an ice pack strapped to his rib cage. But by the Friday before the game, the jury was still out on how healthy Robinson would be or whether he would play in the game at all. “To have Johnny Robinson on the field meant that we would start the same 11 again that we had started all season,” Lanier said. It meant that we had the veteran signal caller [in the defensive secondary], the safety. He was the person who could really keep you out of trouble, because he would not make bad decisions. He made great decisions in terms of not only positioning the defensive backs, but in positioning himself from the risk of [giving up] the kind of plays that Minnesota might have been used to having, and they were big plays that could go for touchdowns. So, having Johnny Robinson in the

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game, you knew that you were not going to be at risk of a rookie or another veteran back there who didn’t have his experience or who might have made the error that could cost you points. 5

Robinson’s roommate for the team’s road games was quarterback Len Dawson. If anyone was fit to gauge Robinson’s progress prior to the game, it was Dawson. As it turned out, a family connection proved to be invaluable in determining the safety’s health. Dawson related the following anecdote, where Robinson’s desire to play in the Super Bowl outweighed any physical pain that he was feeling: I don’t know whether his ribs were broken or whether the cartilage was injured. He was in a great deal of pain, but he’s a very tough individual. I initially thought that with just one week in between the championship game and the Super Bowl, that there was no way that he would be able to play. But he found a way. We were in New Orleans getting ready for the Vikings practices when he asked me to feel his ribs. I told him that, “I don’t want to feel your ribs.” But I did, and they were like mush. I said, “How are you going to be able to play?” He said, “I have a brother who is a doctor.” He was looking for a thoracic surgeon to inject him with a painkiller. He tried Novocaine during the week at practice, and he got woozy. It wasn’t until Friday before the Sunday Super Bowl game that he was able to get the injection [from his brother]. It deadened that area, but it left his focus fine. He knew that he was going to play. He was going to find a way to play down there because he couldn’t face his family and friends if he didn’t get out there on that field. 6

The second worrisome issue was an unusual occurrence that landed on the shoulders of perhaps the Chiefs’ most important player. It was a freak situation that came out of the blue, with no warning to speak of. Kansas City quarterback Lenny Dawson may have gambled from time to time on whether to throw the ball to a covered receiver, but just prior to Super Bowl IV, his name was reported in the news as the most prominent of several pro football players connected with gambling—

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illegal sports gambling. Dawson and the entire team were flabbergasted. “I think I probably heard about it that Tuesday morning [before the Super Bowl] at breakfast in terms of Len Dawson being implicated in some way,” Willie Lanier remembered. He was being named in some investigation as it related to gambling. The thing that I heard was that there was a person in Detroit by the name of Donald Dawson who had attempted to either call Lenny or call other players in the league. It was not anything that was said that Dawson had bet himself or had gambled on games. It was that there had been some communication between someone named Dawson and Len Dawson, who had been implicated in a federal gambling probe. So, all of us knew that at times, you’d get phone calls from many different people who would just call you to talk about many things. So that was the information, and all you could do was hope that things improved. 7

Coverage of the supposed gambling situation made national headlines. Television stations acknowledged that interest in this “sideshow” increased their viewership, and just like Joe Namath’s guarantee of a victory in Super Bowl III, the media now had their anointed off-thefield story for Super Bowl IV. Unfortunately for the Chiefs, this was a topic they wished had never seen the light of day. Dawson naturally suffered the most from this drama, but it was later proven he had nothing to do with any gambling, ever. Nevertheless, the specter of sports gambling was never addressed in a good way by the league, its representative teams, or the team owners. Gambling was a pariah no one wanted to have any connection with. Once a rumor related to gambling started, it was tough to stop, and every name mentioned in such a story received plenty of unwanted attention. Len Dawson was an unwilling and innocent victim in this chapter of intrigue, but the damage had been done. The timing could not have been worse for Dawson and the Chiefs. “Anytime that you have a distraction such as this, it takes away your focus,” said Lanier.

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It takes time for whatever the issue happens to be. It becomes a concern because the week between the championship game in California, you fly back to Kansas City. You pack quickly, and you fly to New Orleans. You get down there and you’re barely on the ground, then you’re told there’s something else you’re going to have to deal with. So it happens very quickly, and anything that was going to be dealt with had to be dealt with quickly. Any concerns had to be squelched soon because 24 hours goes by very quickly when you’re moving toward a very big game on Sunday. 8

For his part, Dawson denied the accusations and proclaimed his innocence to his coaches and teammates in a team meeting. He also had to face dozens of interviews from the press, and even NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle inquired about what “Lenny the Cool,” as he was called, had to say about the affair. Despite his outwardly calm public demeanor, Dawson was negatively affected by the allegations. “As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, then here comes this [gambling] report,” recalled Dawson. Evidently there was going to be some subpoenas issued to several people in professional football, and my name happened to be one of them. That hits the national news. You’re getting ready for a Super Bowl game. I’m thinking, “My God, what the heck is going on here?” I haven’t seen him [Donald Dawson] in years. He did call me when I injured my knee, and he called me when my dad passed away to offer his condolences. That’s the only thing that I’ve heard from this guy in years and years. The thing that’s so difficult is that I had nothing to do with this. It not only affected me. Boy, it really affected my family, to the point where my son, who was really looking forward to the game, tells his mother that he doesn’t want to go. She has to talk him into coming because I wanted him to be there. It’s just a thing that never goes away. I got through that thing, and I figured that if I could handle that junk, I could handle about anything else. 9

By this time, the Chiefs had become so fully diversified, integrated, and conformed to their mission that they no longer thought of one

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another as black athletes and white athletes. The only two colors they saw were red and gold. When one player was hurting or was in trouble, they all were. This was the team Willie Lanier had hoped to be a part of when he first observed how many more African Americans had become part of the Kansas City roster compared to most of the other teams in the league. This team looked beyond a player’s background and ethnicity. The only means for gauging a man’s worth on this team was how much he could contribute to making the Chiefs a better team. That was the 1969 Kansas City club in a nutshell. That feeling of togetherness took them to the summit of pro football. “We were a family,” said Len Dawson. “I’m gonna tell you, we were a family.” 10 Dawson’s teammates stood behind their quarterback 100 percent during his dilemma. Many members of the team expressed their outright disgust at what was happening to him. “We’re angry as hell that this story came out the way it did,” said defensive end Jerry Mays. 11 “It bothers me,” admitted Gloster Richardson, one of Dawson’s wide receivers. “I love that guy, and something like this gets to me.” 12 Jim Lynch remarked, “I remember at that time having some real compassion for Lenny and some empathy for what he was going through.” 13 One of the veteran leaders on the Chiefs was center E. J. Holub, who was more than willing to voice his opinion on any matter. Holub thought deeply about the situation before commenting, “You’ve got to believe in something. I believe in Lenny.” 14 Dawson’s teammates also instantly recognized their quarterback’s response to his misfortune. It was a lesson Dawson gave to every man on the squad, and it reaffirmed their long-held admiration for him. Dawson responded to his quandary not so much with words but with his actions. Like most pro football players, a man’s actions usually speak the loudest to his teammates. Dawson faced hard times that can beset any man, but he offered an example of how one man can overcome obstacles. “Well you know I think when Lenny went through the year that he went through and the triumph that he had, it’s one of the great stories in professional sports,” said Jim Lynch, who was referring to Dawson’s

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multiple injuries, the death of his father, and now the gambling allegations. He continued, Because if you would take that year and say, “Here’s what’s going to happen to you personally. Here’s what’s going to happen to you physically. Here’s what’s going to happen to you that you have absolutely no control over.” And the first, of course, is the physical. He tore a tendon in his knee. Then the tragedy of his father passing away during that season, and then the whole gambling scandal, which really proved to be nothing. But the timing of it was either impeccable or terrible, either way you want to look at it. I think that it was a real inspiration to the guys playing to see how Lenny would handle it, because make no mistake, he was definitely one of the leaders, and the leader of the offense as far as everybody was concerned. It was a family-type atmosphere that I think helped Lenny get through a lot of this. 15

Dawson inspired the Chiefs family. He got up in front of the team, declared his innocence, and then read a prepared statement to the press reiterating his noninvolvement. Coach Hank Stram informed both his team and the press that by the middle of the week he did not want to hear any more about the allegations. Stram simply did not care about rumors—he dealt with facts, and the fact that weighed most heavily on his mind was that the Minnesota Vikings were salivating at the opportunity to defeat the Chiefs in Super Bowl IV. Willie Lanier also dealt with facts. In his analytical mind, Lanier reasoned that the gambling accusations leveled against his teammate were nonsensical. Lanier had known Dawson for three years by 1969, and he had observed his quarterback in many different situations, good and bad. In the wake of Dawson declaring his innocence to the team, Lanier knew in both his mind and heart that the claims were completely bogus. Information and communication were the keys that led Lanier to his conclusion. The gambling case against Dawson was symbolic of any situation that entered Lanier’s psyche. To his credit, the Chiefs middle linebacker did not make a rushed judgment. In fact, he did not make any judgment at all until he gathered all the information.

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“Well I think the reality is that you try to bring everyone together and make sure they’re fully informed so that they are not hearing different rumors of what might or might not [be],” Lanier stated. What is real and what is fabric? So it was one I think of having everyone come together, and the presentation or acknowledgment being made of what the whole situation was. And that allowed everyone to feel better about it, because they heard from the people involved. I think the main thing in a team situation [is that] you come to know your teammates. You get a very good idea of what their background happens to be, what their character is, how they conduct themselves, and all of that. It was one where I don’t think anyone [on the team] had a concern that there was any truthfulness to it. With that being the case, you felt very good about the fact that [the gambling situation] didn’t fit Lenny’s style. That didn’t fit his background. That did not fit how he approached his life. 16

Dawson put the situation to rest with his teammates by giving a brief pep talk, saying, “Let’s go out and beat these guys.” 17 To accomplish that goal, Coach Stram saw in the Minnesota game films that the Vikings cornerbacks were usually not fast enough to cover opposing wide receivers all that well when the Minnesota pass rush was unable to apply pressure on the opposing quarterbacks. Stram planned to take advantage of this by having his offensive line hold their blocks for a couple of seconds longer than usual, because Stram prepared his offense to use a quick-strike attack, where Dawson threw quick downand-out passes worth 10 yards or less and then allowed his receivers to get whatever else they could after they made the catch. Pass catchers like Otis Taylor, Frank Pitts, Gloster Richardson, and setback Mike Garrett were adept at running with the ball after making the reception. As it turned out, the Kansas City offensive line did its job well, as Dawson was given enough time in the pocket to complete 12 of his 17 pass attempts for 142 yards. The vindicated Dawson would later be named the game’s Most Valuable Player for his superb generalship of Kansas City’s multifaceted offense.

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“Well Len has a moniker called ‘Lenny the Cool,’ and I think he really took that to heart because very few things ruffled him,” said Lanier. Very few things caused him to not be able to express his talent and perform well, and then most of the time perform better when there was more on the line. So he had shown an ability to be able to not be bothered about the way a game was played. He was not a player who was going to rant and rave and holler and scream about how they had to do things. He just executed. 18

Coach Stram executed as well. He saw the value in studying films of the Minnesota offense. The Vikings used a much more basic offense than anything his defense dealt with in the AFL. The Vikings were, first and foremost, a running team, and the Chiefs stack defense was best suited to stifle a team that employed more runs than passes. The Kansas City defense accomplished their goal, limiting the Minnesota runners to a meager 67 yards. The defensive linemen offered few open holes in the line of scrimmage. Stram did his job well, as did his players. They were as prepared as they could possibly be. The greatest 60 minutes in Kansas City football history would indeed be a grand memory for all the men involved and Chiefs fans throughout the country. Super Bowl IV was the first professional football championship game to be played in New Orleans, and it was filled with the requisite amount of pageantry of all Super Bowls. The cloudy skies and muddy field belied the spectacle as a whole, however, where a panoply of colorful on-field entertainment included a showcase of history, culture, and pathos. One particular portion of the extravaganza involved a hot air balloon, which dramatically crashed into the lower north stands at the old Sugar Bowl stadium. Fortunately, no injuries were sustained. Somewhat symbolically, the pilot was wearing a Vikings costume, a fact not lost on many of the Chiefs players. “I’ve seen a lot of footage of the Vikings gondola,” Lanier related, and as the wind picked it up it started to bounce along towards some of the seating at that part of the end zone. And the people didn’t

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know how to control that gondola, as well as the hot air balloon. Maybe that was a coincidence that things were not going to go well for the Vikings that day. 19

No one was really sure how well either team would do on this day. But field position determines scoring opportunities in every football game, and the struggle between these two league champions was no different. Moreover, in evenly matched football contests, the special teams can often be the deciding factor in who wins and who loses. Super Bowl IV was a case in point. The Kansas City kicking game served the team well, especially in the first half. Chiefs veteran punter Jerrel Wilson boomed four punts for an incredible 48.5-yard average, one of which traveled 59 yards. Wilson’s teammate, placekicker Jan Stenerud, capitalized on the team’s favorable field position throughout the first half. The Chiefs offense moved the ball deep enough into Minnesota territory to set up Stenerud for three field goals, featuring one from 48 yards out, a Super Bowl record at that time. Then, midway through the second quarter, Coach Stram’s special teams made a big play when Remi Prudhomme of the Chiefs recovered Charlie West’s fumbled kickoff deep in Minnesota territory. Six plays later, Kansas City halfback Mike Garrett ran off-tackle for five yards and a touchdown. Garrett’s score came on a play that has since achieved legendary status, the 65 Toss Power Trap. Stram’s epic recitation of the play several times along the Kansas City sideline has since become a staple of the NFL Films annual highlight shows every January. This game marked the first time that a head coach was wired for sound in a Super Bowl, a historic event in its own right. The 65 Toss Power Trap was just one of many creative verbal offerings from the man known to many as “The Mentor.” “I thought that during the Super Bowl he was more talkative, and none of us knew why,” Lanier recalled. But he seemed to be somewhat more animated. I believe that you could tell there was something a little bit different about his demeanor that day. In knowing Hank, who enjoyed wordsmithing, who en-

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joyed presence, who enjoyed being able to create something, because that is who he was. He really enjoyed the ability to present himself in a way that was knowledgeable, thoughtful, involved, and analytical as far as the game is concerned. So I thought it [the Super Bowl IV highlight film featuring Stram] was just an outstanding piece of work . . . that someone in the midst of the most important game of their life can still maintain the kind of presence to offer a view of what a coach goes through. But I think all of that was just a tremendous aspect of a person who coached well and knew how to express it. 20

The Chiefs demonstrated their dominance in the first half of the game, as they took a 16–0 lead going into halftime. Their advantage was somewhat shocking, considering how many points the Vikings were favored by going into the game (13 points to be exact). But Minnesota’s offense rejuvenated itself and came back strong in the first possession of the third quarter, as they capitalized on a 10-play drive to score a touchdown. “They had a great halftime plan, that they were able to take the kickoff after halftime and then go down the field, and get a touchdown for themselves,” confirmed Lanier. But then we felt that we’d seen any changes that they had made at that point in time, and then collectively we would shut off anything else. Because it was if so we have now seen the best that they could do. And it was a long series for them to drive downfield and score. So then we had seen the best that they could do. And in my mind, the way that we had played all year, you don’t get a chance to do the same thing twice against us. You might have done it once, but you were not going to do it twice. So in my view, that meant that the game is over. And technically that was, for me, the moment that I felt very confident that we were going to win the game. 21

Lanier’s confidence was also appreciated by the members of Kansas City’s offense. They responded in a most spectacular fashion just several plays after the Minnesota touchdown. The ball was near midfield

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when Len Dawson beat a maximum Viking blitz and hit Otis Taylor on a short square-out pass. Taylor absorbed a hit by Minnesota cornerback Earsell Mackbee, bounced and spun out of Mackbee’s grasp, juked Vikings strong safety Karl Kassulke at the 15-yard line, and then sprinted untouched down the near sideline to complete a spectacular 46-yard scoring play. Taylor’s touchdown boosted the Chiefs’ lead to 23–7. From that point onward, the Kansas City defense took over. Chiefs defensive tackles Curley Culp and Buck Buchanan were busy manhandling the Vikings blockers along the line of scrimmage. Minnesota quarterback Joe Kapp was forced to throw the ball more often in the second half in the hopes of trying to erase his team’s deficit. This did not suit his style, however. The Vikings seldom had to play catch-up to any team during the 1969 season, so to come from behind in this struggle was going to be tough for them. The Kansas City defense was prepared for Kapp, as they intercepted two of his passes in the fourth quarter, one by Willie Lanier. On that particular play, Lanier drifted backward about 15 yards and read Kapp’s eyes as he backpedaled. The Minnesota quarterback never saw him. The ball hit Lanier in the stomach, giving him what may have been the easiest interception he had ever pilfered. Lanier immediately broke a half-hearted tackle by Vikings tight end John Beasley, who happened to be Kapp’s intended target on the play. Lanier returned his prize nine yards and thus signaled the death knell for Minnesota. Kapp then threw another interception a few minutes later, which was claimed by skillful Kansas City safety Johnny Robinson, who somehow ignored his rib damage from the previous week and managed to play the entire game. The local boy came back home and triumphantly proved that mind over matter worked well enough for him in his ultimate moment of glory. “Well, Johnny did great,” evaluated Lanier. He had an interception, and he came up with a fumble. Also, I told Johnny that we wouldn’t let him have many tackles, because the defensive line and the linebackers took that away from him. But in

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terms of being able to control the game, not having errors, keeping away from [surrendering] a big play, creating an interception as well as a fumble recovery . . . he had a very good day. 22

The Chiefs had shown the football world that they too had a very good day. As the final seconds of Super Bowl IV ticked down under the darkened Louisiana sky, Hank Stram took the greatest victory ride of his life on the shoulders of his beloved players. Kansas City’s 23–7 victory against Minnesota had avenged their failure in Super Bowl I. They had closed out the final year of the AFL with their greatest triumph. The glee of the moment was evident on the faces of the players, as well as Lamar Hunt, who had started the AFL 10 years earlier. In the many years since the game, a reflective Willie Lanier has discussed with aplomb his thoughts about that particular moment in time. “You don’t know when you start a season whether you can be the one still standing at the end and be fully successful,” said Lanier. “So to have gone through a regular season that was somewhat tough, [then] to have played three games really on the road, and to have won them all, and to have a defensive performance where you only gave up 20 points in those three games . . . it all had come together.” 23 The thousands of citizens of Kansas City, estimated to be more than 100,000 in all, came together after the big win, as they held a victory parade for their returning world champions. A team that was a twotouchdown underdog had somehow captured the most prestigious prize professional football has to offer, and now they could bask in the glory they had earned. The game and parade would undoubtedly serve as two of the most memorable moments in the lives of the Chiefs players and coaches, the fans, and team owner Lamar Hunt. (Author’s note: Willie Lanier unfortunately missed the victory parade, having been selected to travel to Houston after Super Bowl IV to play in the AFL All-Star Game.) It was a culmination of sorts, an affirmation that being the best team in the sport was well worth the sacrifices, planning, hard work, and dedication that everyone on the team had put forth.

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“I think what it meant was to show that in a 10-year period of time a league—an upstart league that had ‘inferior’ players—were able to show that they were equal,” admitted Lanier. You were very happy that the other players, the administration, Hank, and Lamar had put together this organization and brought the talent together . . . that we could have something that was going to be very special. We didn’t know how special it was going to be until years later, where we now look back and realize how significant it was, and how difficult it was to get there and to win. So, the monument to the success was in the history of defining how good the talent was. 24

It was the 1969 season—the year of ultimate victory for Willie Lanier and the Super Chiefs.

7 TO BE CHAMPIONS AGAIN

Winning a Super Bowl is the greatest single achievement of any professional football team. Players dream of it from the first time they don a helmet and shoulder pads as youngsters. Nothing can come close to winning a Super Bowl, save winning it again. That is where Willie Lanier and the Kansas City Chiefs found themselves as the 1970 NFL season dawned. But two things automatically happen to every team that tries to defend their world championship. One, other teams use them as a measuring stick and do their utmost to beat them on the gridiron. Nothing is left to chance in preparation to play a defending champion, and inspired efforts filled with fury from opponents are the norm. Two, the defending champion has to battle an unseen foe: complacency. It is the enemy of every team that attempts to show the same drive and desire from their championship season. The only known cure for complacency is to exhibit an even stronger hunger for victory. The Chiefs had won AFL championships in the past, in 1962 (as the Dallas Texans), 1966, and, of course, 1969. But now, as 1970 dawned, they were recognized as the best team in all of pro football, placing even more pressure on the team. Kansas City was well advised that despite the glory of their world title, the sooner the Chiefs forgot about 1969 and Super Bowl IV, the better their chances for success in the new NFL.

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The 1970 season was unlike any other the sport had ever seen. A merger of the American Football League and National Football League increased the number of teams in pro football to 26. The influx of teams from the old AFL had increased the level of competition throughout the sport. The 1970 season turned out to be the most competitive pro football had seen up to that time, and, unfortunately for the defending champion Chiefs, they bore the brunt of much of that competitiveness. Those doing the scheduling were certainly not going to give Hank Stram’s team any breaks, even during the preseason. Kansas City played seven preseason games in 1970, the final three of which were on the road. Their first three regular-season games were also on the road, for a total of six straight road games. This was one tough hurdle to clear for the Chiefs. Willie Lanier viewed the new season as simply another new challenge in his pro football career. Like the other Chiefs veterans, he was proud of winning a championship. It validated his hard work and gave him recognition as a champion that he and his teammates had never previously known. But Lanier knew that the new season beckoned. He knew he was going to see much more effort from his opponents, regardless of whether they came from an inferior squad. The Chiefs earned a somewhat lackluster 4–3 record during their 1970 preseason games, and it was obvious that even in those contests, their foes were determined to give their best effort. Next on the schedule was a rematch of Super Bowl IV in the first game of the regular season. The Chiefs were slated to take on the Vikings, this time in Minnesota—and with several differences. The Minnesota brain trust had traded their fiery leader, Joe Kapp, to the Boston Patriots. The reason given for Kapp’s dismissal involved a contractual dispute with the Vikings management that could not be resolved to either party’s benefit. It was the first time in pro football history that a quarterback who had led his team to a Super Bowl appearance in the previous season was sent packing the following year. The other difference involved motivation. On the eve of the regularseason opener, Minnesota head coach Bud Grant showed his players

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the NFL Films highlight show of the previous Super Bowl. Numerous clips from that game showed Kansas City head coach Hank Stram verbally humiliating the Vikings. Some of Stram’s comments from the sideline included such salty bon mots as, “Look at them [the Minnesota defense] running around,” and, “They didn’t even know where to go on the lineup.” Then Stram got personal by pointing out that Vikings defensive back Karl Kassulke “was running around out there like it was a Chinese fire drill!” Stram summarized Minnesota’s effort by exclaiming, “They look like they’re flat as hell.” 1 It is bad enough when you lose a championship game. But being reminded that you lost a championship game makes things even worse. Such comments from Stram compounded the Vikings’ humiliation and only served to anger them. Thus, Grant’s players owned a solid dose of momentum and a firm desire for revenge. As a result, Kansas City saw a much different Minnesota team in their rematch on the first Sunday of the 1970 season. “If those kind of comments were made about us by the opposing coach, and that team is coming to our ballpark as the team that we play the first game of the regular season, I think that it would’ve had a lot to do with some additional motivation for the Vikings,” surmised Willie Lanier. 2 Quarterback Len Dawson certainly witnessed an “inspired” Minnesota squad on September 20, 1970. “I’ll tell you this,” commented Dawson. When they came out on the field, I don’t think their feet hit the ground. These guys were so fired up after watching that film, because it was so funny to us, but to the Minnesota Vikings . . . I could see it was not too humorous to them. They kicked our butts in the opening game of that 1970 season. 3

The Vikings dominated the Chiefs in much the same way Kansas City had dominated them seven months prior in New Orleans. Minnesota’s Purple Gang defense held the Chiefs offense to just eight first downs. Stram’s running backs were able to gain only 63 yards, and Dawson was under pressure throughout the day. On the other side of

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the ledger, the Chiefs defense distributed their share of hard hits, as was their norm. Moreover, they allowed Vikings quarterback Gary Cuozzo only 100 passing yards, intercepting him twice. But Kansas City could muster only one field goal in the second half, as they lost their opening game, 27–10. It was indeed a tough way to start the 1970 season. But it became a season-long struggle for the Chiefs as they tried to repeat as champions. Willie Lanier, by most observations, performed as well or better in 1970 than he did the previous year, but you would not know it by his overall statistics. Teams were finding more ways to block Lanier on running plays, which caused him to be involved in fewer tackles. Lanier did manage to improve his drop backs and pass coverage, but he had fewer interceptions in 1970 (two) than in 1969 (four). Such a figure is misleading, however, because opposing quarterbacks were determined to throw away from zone coverages where Lanier was located. He was simply commanding more respect from offenses throughout the league. The Chiefs respected each of their opponents in 1970, but even so, things did not get any easier for them. Lanier was slated to make a pilgrimage back to his old collegiate stomping grounds, as Kansas City traveled to Maryland to play the Baltimore Colts on Monday Night Football on September 28. Baltimore had been a dominant team throughout the 1960s, sporting winning records in each of the prior seven seasons. The contest versus the Colts was as close to a “must-win” game for the Chiefs as they could have, however, as losing two straight games to begin the 1970 season would have been detrimental to their playoff aspirations. Consistency had to be Kansas City’s main focus if they were to get back on the winning track. Lanier was also striving for individual consistency in his fourth pro season. He did not need to be spectacular, because many of the players who lined up with him on defense were outstanding in their own right. Coach Stram, Lamar Hunt, and the Kansas City front office put together a stellar roster to surround their middle linebacker. All Lanier had to do was continue being the natural leader that he was. His efforts on the field as a tackling force and studious defensive play caller were as strong

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as ever. Barring any unfortunate injuries, that would be enough to keep the team’s defense strong and successful. Kansas City’s strong and successful performance against Baltimore was much more representative of how the Chiefs were expected to play as defending world champions. They crushed the Colts, 44–24, as every facet of the team’s game worked well, especially in the first half. Baltimore was led by their legendary quarterback, Johnny Unitas, who was suffering from a nagging foot injury but managed to claim a third world championship for the Colts by the end of the season. Lanier and the Kansas City defense limited Unitas’s effectiveness throughout the game, as Baltimore’s quarterback completed only five passes. In 1970, however, the Chiefs were not playing as effectively as they had the previous year. They unquestionably were not performing as consistently as they had in 1969, as evidenced the following week, when they visited Mile High Stadium in Denver. The Chiefs had defeated the Broncos 11 straight times before October 4, 1970. That streak ended in an unceremonious fashion, 26–13. The Chiefs defense was ambushed by Denver in the first half, surrendering 17 points before tightening things up along the line of scrimmage. Conversely, the Kansas City offense reverted to committing more mistakes, similar to those made in the season opener at Minnesota. “They just beat us,” opined Hank Stram. “There is no other way to say it. They played a great game and deserve all the credit.” 4 Willie Lanier had to give the Broncos some credit. For probably the first time since his rookie season in the NFL, an opposing team managed to give Lanier quite the physical workout. Denver did not have a strong passing attack in 1970, so they relied on running the ball to move downfield. Lanier took notice to the Broncos’ plan. “There are teams that make you sorer physically than others,” admitted Lanier. “Teams like Denver like to run a lot of inside plays, which means I get a lot of work. It’s constant hitting. You’re either hitting a guard, a center, or a back who’s leading for his other backs, so it’s just constant hitting. Someone’s running at you constantly.” 5

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Coach Stram’s men got back to their old ways, featuring constant hitting, when they played their first home game of the year in week four against the Boston Patriots, a team with only one win thus far in 1970. Lanier and the rest of the Chiefs defense gave a strong performance in the 23–10 win, as they accounted for six interceptions. The Chiefs were now 2–2 in the standings and seemed to have finally righted their ship. “Execute and hit—that’s the name of the game,” said Hank Stram following the victory against the Patriots. “We entered the game with that twofold purpose . . . to hit and execute. I thought we did a fantastic job in both areas.” 6 Kansas City’s situation in 1970 was forlorn in many areas, however. Willie Lanier was still hitting, executing, and playing as strongly as ever, but several other members of the team were struggling. Against the host Cincinnati Bengals in week five, the inconsistencies continued to plague the Chiefs. A game that was securely in Kansas City’s favor by a score of 27–9 through the first three quarters almost saw a miraculous comeback by the Bengals in the fourth quarter. Like Boston the week before, Cincinnati owned only one win at this point. The Chiefs held on to defeat the Bengals, 27–19, but it was obvious that in spite of Kansas City being healthier than they had been at this stage the previous season, the systematic problems and complacency issues were adding up. One narrow win against a losing team like Cincinnati did little to give Kansas City its confidence back. Willie Lanier and the other defensive leaders knew they had to do something to motivate the rest of the defense if the team was to stay in first place in the American Football Conference’s (AFC) Western Division. Despite the team’s mediocre 3–2 record, the Chiefs had a championship to defend, a title that they were very proud of. Their schedule did not get any easier, however. Next up for Hank Stram’s men was a team they had never played before. In recent years, the Dallas Cowboys had been a winning franchise from the National Football Conference’s (NFC) Eastern Division, and they were a consistently competitive team. They were also similar in makeup to the Chiefs, employing a complex offensive system that resembled what Coach Stram used, with

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multiple offensive shifts and various man-in-motion formations. Moreover, Dallas possessed a slew of stellar athletes. When they entered Municipal Stadium on October 25, 1970, they owned an identical won–loss record to the Chiefs. The contest between Dallas and Kansas City was one of the toughest games the Chiefs played all year, and it served as a vivid example of how many problems were besetting the team in 1970. The multifaceted Dallas offense hit on several big plays, including a 47-yard touchdown run by rookie runner Duane Thomas through the middle of Kansas City’s stack defense and past the outstretched arms of Willie Lanier. Dallas also connected on a scoring bomb of 89 yards from quarterback Craig Morton to former Olympic gold medal sprinter/wide receiver “Bullet” Bob Hayes. Both of those momentous plays occurred in the third quarter, giving the Cowboys control of the game. If Chiefs fans required any further proof that their team was simply not the same team from the previous season, the 27–16 loss to Dallas provided it in ample detail. “Those plays [the touchdown run by Thomas and the touchdown reception by Hayes] were the difference,” said Hank Stram. 7 “They shut off my running game,” admitted Kansas City quarterback Len Dawson, “and when I passed, they teed off on me.” 8 Kansas City was now quite “teed off,” as they found themselves a half-game out of first place in their division. To make matters worse, their following contest was against none other than the team that owned first place, the archrival Oakland Raiders. In a historical comparison, the contentious nature of the Chiefs–Raiders rivalry was just a notch or two lower in intensity than that Hatfield–McCoy family dispute—minus the bullets, guns, knives, and murders. It appeared the Chiefs–Raiders rivalry would continue in much the same fashion throughout the new decade. In 1970, the first of two matchups between the teams was to be played in Kansas City, for whatever that was worth. Somewhat surprisingly, Willie Lanier never put much faith in having home-field advantage, and he also knew the Raiders were still smarting from their loss to the Chiefs in the 1969 AFL Title Game.

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“The Chiefs only won one Super Bowl,” said Lanier, “and no [postseason] game was played in our home field. And that was my reference point. If no game was played on our home field, then who has the advantage?” 9 Neither Kansas City nor Oakland required extra motivation when they played one another. Their rivalry was filled with animosity, and fans of both teams eagerly looked forward to their battles each year. This rivalry was also one where victory was commonly viewed as a necessity if either team was to claim a division championship. “It [the rivalry with the Raiders] was one that we had to win against them to feel that we were victorious with a great season and an opportunity to go forward,” confirmed Lanier. “And it didn’t happen often enough. But the rivalry was real, and the rivalry was intense. The rivalry was that which is all football.” 10 Lanier added, “Football is a violent game. I just try to play the game the way it should be played.” 11 He also commented, I think that what separated specifically [the Chiefs from the Raiders in those days] was discipline, and I believe at times we would have less penalties. We would have more control. We would try to play I would say a more mature game. You have to be understated in how you approach a good play or how you are going to let a bad play affect you and how you looked at building throughout the game, step-by-step. Excellence and quality, and holding that emotional content to a lower level. And that would give you a chance to hopefully win the game. It was always a good rivalry and one that gives you an understanding of what makes the game so interesting and intense. 12

The intensity of that first meeting in 1970 between the Chiefs and the Raiders tested the poise of both teams. The “control” and the “maturity” Lanier spoke about would be voided and missing in this contest. The game provided the entire league with one of the most brutal chapters in the history of the sport. Kansas City’s mediocre 3–3 record during the first part of the season mattered little when they lined up against the Raiders. A win against Oakland had the possibility of ridding

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the Chiefs of the complacency that seemed to permeate their mindset during the early and frustrating stages of the year. From the opening kickoff, it appeared as if both teams were determined to play their best game of the season. The Chiefs scored first on a four-yard touchdown run by Wendell Hayes. Oakland retook the lead when Willie Lanier’s college teammate at Morgan State, Raymond Chester, caught two short touchdown passes from quarterback Daryle Lamonica. Late in the fourth quarter, Kansas City reclaimed a 17–14 lead when premiere wide receiver Otis Taylor caught a 13-yard touchdown pass from Len Dawson. Lanier and the rest of the Kansas City defense then forced an Oakland punt, and the Chiefs were soon driving the ball downfield to secure the victory. On a 3rd-and-11 situation from near midfield, Dawson ran a bootleg option play for a key Kansas City first down. Immediately after Dawson fell to the turf after tripping on one of the legs of offensive lineman David Hill, however, mammoth Oakland defensive end Ben Davidson launched himself at Dawson, spearing the quarterback in the back with his helmet. Taylor instantly defended his teammate, bear-hugging Davidson and throwing him to the field. The epic NFL fistfight of 1970 was on. Players from both teams joined in the fray, and players from both bench areas ran onto the field to throw rabbit punches and haymakers. Kansas City wide receiver Gloster Richardson was seen not only punching Davidson, but also kicking him. It was a free-for-all, and it was emblematic of the pent-up bitterness that was part of this rivalry. Willie Lanier, in contrast, was not going to have any part of this mess. “Gloster Richardson might have been able to change how that whole thing unfolded,” Lanier stated. We get the first down, we can run the clock out, we win the game. We continue on with our season. Okay, so what happens is that Len Dawson runs for 20 yards. He’s not tackled . . . he stumbles and falls. Davidson dives in headfirst, does a flip, and spears Dawson in the back. Otis Taylor comes over and starts to engage Davidson with his fist. Gloster Richardson comes over, and instead of pulling Otis away, he engages also. And then a lot of players on the Chiefs side of the

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field and a lot of players on the Raiders side of the field rush onto the field, and all of this activity occurs. I don’t move. I’m standing on the sideline watching what I consider is foolishness. Now I believe what’s going to happen is that the official is going to call offsetting penalties. If the official calls an offsetting penalty, we’re going to have to replay that third-down play. The chances of us executing another 3rd and 11, in my opinion, was zero. So that’s exactly what occurred. The other players come back to our sideline, and I’m saying all kinds of bad things like, “What’s wrong with you guys?” The officials called offsetting penalties, and they moved the ball back, and we didn’t get the first down. So, what occurs is that Oakland now has a chance to gain possession. So, they gain possession. Jim Kearney, on a subsequent play, made a tackle, and he is knocked out. So, if he’s knocked out, the officials have to stop the clock to have him off the field. So, the clock doesn’t run. [Raiders placekicker George] Blanda kicks a field goal and ties the game, and we lose the division because of that game. That game all occurred based on a play from Davidson that could have been stopped. But the emotion of the moment, over the long history of the time that I was at Kansas City . . . I saw our side react in a way that I had not seen react previously. And that’s how that game had the outcome that it did. 13

In 1970, regular-season games that were tied did not involve a sudden-death period to break the tie. That rules change did not occur until the 1974 season. As a result, there were many more tie games in the NFL prior to 1974 than afterward. The 17–17 tie between the Chiefs and Raiders boosted Oakland to a lead in their division that they never lost. Kansas City, as Lanier expressed, was never able to fully recover from the tie. This battle against the Raiders was accepted by the Chiefs as more of an actual loss than a tie. It left a bitter taste in the mouths of Hank Stram and his players. But the 1970 season was not over, and there was still hope that Kansas City could string together some victories against teams they were favored to defeat. The first team on the schedule following the failure against the Raiders was the Houston Oilers, who, for the second straight year, played the Chiefs in Municipal Stadium in a driving rainstorm. Kansas City’s

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defense took out its frustration from the previous two games by beating the Oilers, 24–9. The win gave the Chiefs a 4–3–1 record, but the triumph against Houston was somewhat misleading. Oilers quarterback Charley Johnson managed to throw for 247 yards in his team’s loss. To their credit, Hank Stram and Willie Lanier never gave up looking for solutions to their defensive deficiencies. But this was a Chiefs team that was faltering badly just past the midway point of the regular season. Surrendering such a large sum of passing yards to a Houston team that had won only twice by the middle of November was proof of that. Big plays by the Kansas City offense were also noticeably missing during the first half of the year. But in their four victories of the season, one or more Chiefs players had made a key play to secure a vital win. Several key plays were turned in by multiple Chiefs players in their ninth game of the 1970 season. That contest was played at Pittsburgh, and at that time the Steelers were just beginning to plant the seeds for the future. Within a few years, they would become the most dominant team in the NFL. Len Dawson and the rest of the Chiefs offense managed to handle Pittsburgh rather easily on November 15, however, as they won by a score of 31–14. Coach Stram’s team was finally able to bring together every facet of the game to control the contest the way they had the previous season. The Kansas City offense erupted for a season-high 424 total yards, and the defense intercepted five passes and recovered one fumble. The victory provided the Chiefs with a muchneeded respite from their earlier debilitating losses. It also gave them a two-game winning streak, something that can motivate any team, even a defending Super Bowl champion. The plan was to take things one game at a time and secure a third straight win. The Chiefs were unable to accomplish that feat, however. The crossstate Missouri rival St. Louis Cardinals traveled to Kansas City and tied the Chiefs in a defensive battle, 6–6. This was a game that Kansas City, now 5–3–2, should have won, but they failed to do so thanks to numerous mistakes and missed opportunities. The tie placed the Chiefs even further behind the 6–2–2 Raiders in the AFC West standings.

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“It was a heartbreaking tie,” said Stram. To his credit, the Kansas City head coach did not place the blame for the tie on any of his players. “We had opportunities to win the game and we didn’t do anything with them,” he admitted. 14 If someone would have told Willie Lanier at this point of the 1970 season that his team was, for all intents and purposes, out of the playoff race, that person would have received an earful about how much hope was still being held by himself and the other members of the Chiefs. Lanier was a positive thinker, mainly because he had already seen the results of his hard work. By 1970, Willie Lanier was becoming a symbol of American success. On the gridiron he displayed good sportsmanship, diligence, perseverance, and sacrifice. Lanier was also becoming a civic and a community leader in the Kansas City area, volunteering his time to various charitable causes. He was a young man to look up to, and many kids and adults did just that. Moreover, this humble hero set an example for other players of how to act like a professional. Lanier probably did not realize it at the time, but he was educating young boys in high schools throughout the nation on how to play the position of middle linebacker. All those kids had to do was watch a Chiefs game on television or in person and focus their attention on number 63, the guy wearing the padded helmet. Every Sunday afternoon, he offered a visual how-to manual for the next generation to learn the methods and techniques of tackling running backs, dropping back into pass coverages, stringing out a sweep by shedding blockers, filling holes in the line of scrimmage, and, of course, intercepting passes and recovering fumbles. Even before the 1970 football season was over, Willie Lanier was well on his way to becoming a trailblazing middle linebacker. The foundation of Lanier’s brand of leadership had as its main ingredient the simple notion of competition. Pure competition. The competition that Lanier speaks of is of the purest variety, and it is steeped in good sportsmanship.

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“I enjoy the concept of competing, of matching my body against another man,” explained Lanier. I respect my opponent. It’s like two boxers. They can go at each other for 10 rounds and still be friends afterwards. Throw their arms around each other and say, “You’re a hell of a man.” When I was a boy my brother and I used to go at each other. We’d always get on opposite teams in the makeup games just to add a little spice to the contest. But when it was over we were still brothers. 15

The Chiefs were also brothers in the same family when it came to having a sense of togetherness. They banded together when their backs were to the wall, knowing that the final month of 1970 would present them with still more challenges. They knew they could not afford to lose any more games, because they certainly could not count on the Oakland Raiders to lose any. The next opponent for the Chiefs following the tie versus St. Louis was the San Diego Chargers, a divisional foe that was not going anywhere, with a mediocre 4–4–2 record. But as Kansas City had already discovered during the previous 10 weeks, every team in 1970 was poised to upset them. Despite their high hopes, the Chargers were unable to defeat Kansas City at Municipal Stadium on November 29. The Chiefs put together a strong offensive effort to prevail against San Diego, 26–14. During the 12th week of the season, Kansas City played their final home game. Their opponent was the Denver Broncos, a team that had upset them in the third week of the season. This time, however, the results were different. The Chiefs were motivated on two fronts—getting a taste of revenge for their earlier loss to Denver and keeping their modest one-game winning streak going. Kansas City accomplished both of those goals in grand fashion, shutting out the Broncos, 16–0. The Chiefs defense exhibited one of its best games of the year, as they permitted Denver only 146 total yards. Willie Lanier also had one of his best games. He stuffed Bronco runners at the line of scrimmage and intercepted two passes—his only two interceptions of the season. This

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was a game the Chiefs had needed to win to keep their momentum going during the homestretch of the regular season. “We controlled the line of scrimmage defensively,” remarked Hank Stram, “and that was the key to the game.” 16 The key to the outcome of the campaign now came down to the final two contests. Both the Raiders and the Chiefs owned identical 7–3–2 records going into their “winner-take-all” clash on December 12. The contest was set to be played in Oakland, and it would determine which of these two natural rivals would take possession of first place in the AFC West, just a short breath away from the playoffs. Hank Stram and his players were still smarting from the previous meeting on November 1, a 17–17 tie that included a bench-clearing brawl. The Chiefs knew they were going to have to minimize their mistakes if they were going to pull this game out. The Raiders made the first mistake, however, as Kansas City outside linebacker Jim Lynch tiptoed along the sideline and intercepted one of Daryle Lamonica’s first-quarter passes deep in Oakland territory. Unfortunately for the Chiefs, they were unable to move the ball and had to settle for a Jan Stenerud field goal. Although the players did not know it at the time, the plot of this contest had already been set in motion. Kansas City was unable to run the ball against the Raiders defense, which required Len Dawson to be both accurate and successful with his passes. He was neither. Oakland’s offense, in contrast, managed to move the ball throughout the game and should have scored more points than they actually did. Oakland accounted for 324 total yards, compared to only 121 for the Chiefs. The game-clinching touchdown occurred in the third quarter, when Raiders running back Marv Hubbard ran offtackle for six yards, right through a diving arm tackle by Willie Lanier, and into the end zone. The Raiders prevailed in one of the most disheartening games Kansas City played in the 1970s, 20–6. “We had opportunities,” admitted Hank Stram, “we just got beat by a very good football team. They controlled the line of scrimmage on both offense and defense.” 17

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Kansas City was no longer in control of their own destiny. They had to beat the Chargers in San Diego on the final Sunday of the regular season. They also had to hope and pray that the Baltimore Colts lost their final game of the year against the New York Jets, a team that had won only four games in 1970. Such an outcome would give Kansas City a wild card berth in the postseason. “I hate to be in a position where you have to depend on somebody else,” said Len Dawson following the loss to the Raiders. 18 But that is the situation the Chiefs found themselves in. They lost several games during the season that they should have won. That is the lament of every team that almost makes the playoffs. Kansas City was going to have to summon much resolve to beat San Diego. That had to be their only mission, because there was nothing they could do to help the Jets beat the Colts. Unfortunately for the Chiefs, there was little resolve, and the Jets fell to the Colts. San Diego, a team that had nothing to play for, scored easily and often as they beat the Chiefs, 31–13. The Chargers accrued 466 total yards against Stram’s defense, which in the second half appeared to be just going through the motions. It was definitely the worst effort of the year by Lanier and company. In a sense, it was a fitting epitaph for a team that had started the year with such high hopes of winning another title and then failed to even make the playoffs. “Let’s give credit where credit is due,” said a magnanimous Coach Stram after the loss. “The Chargers played a helluva football game and did a great job on defense. As for next season, I think we have enough mental and physical strength to bounce back and have a fine season.” 19 Kansas City and Willie Lanier’s goals—to have a fine season and repeat as champions—were not achieved in 1970. Only time would tell if Hank Stram’s hopes of “bouncing back” in 1971 would be realized.

8 THE LONGEST GAME

Kansas City’s bitter despondency in 1970 was the result of their failures during that mistake-filled season. In 1971, however, the Chiefs were determined to make improvements, both as a team and as individuals. Hank Stram’s roster still had a strong nucleus of productive players, but many of the veterans were getting older and, in some cases, a little slower. Stram was hoping to get at least one more good year out of some of his older and more dependable guys. The trick for Kansas City was to obtain talented younger players through the draft and infuse them into the lineup in a fairly short amount of time. The ultimate hope was that those rookies would be good enough to gain some pro experience, all the while providing the team with their youthful quickness, speed, and exuberance. The NFL Draft had changed quite a bit in the wake of the merger. Since 1966, the NFL and AFL had decided to adopt a common draft, where one team from one league would make their selection and then a team from the other league would make the next choice. This would continue back and forth until all the rounds were finished. This format would ensure fairness for all the teams from both leagues. Beginning in 1970, however, the 26 teams made their selections in an order that did not reflect which conference they were in. Rather, the order of selection was based on how good or bad a team’s won–loss record was at the end of the previous season. For example, an NFC team with only two 147

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wins in 1970 got to draft a college player before an AFC team that had three wins in the same season. This basic method of drafting players remains the same today. According to former Kansas City public relations director Bob Moore, however, the common draft hurt the Chiefs more than anyone could have predicted in 1971, primarily because Hank Stram was a loyal man and hung on to his older players for longer than he probably should have. “Everything changes after 1971,” assessed Moore, now the team’s official historian. “There’s no question that you have to know who’s out there [in the draft]. You’ve gotta remember that even Len Dawson is an older guy at this point. [However] I remember Willie Lanier just simply telling me that the strength of the team was still on defense.” 1 On paper going into the 1971 season, the Kansas City fortunes did not look to be all that bad. The Chiefs accounted for 11 Pro Bowl players in 1971, and Willie Lanier was one. Lanier then added to his accolades the honor of being named the AFC Defensive Player of the Year in 1971. On offense, the Chiefs received a much-needed jolt when Stram obtained wide receiver Elmo Wright from the University of Houston in the draft. Wright accounted for 26 receptions in his rookie year, worth 524 yards (an average of 20.3 yards per catch). The Chiefs offense scored 30 more points than in the previous year. But as Lanier affirmed in his discussion with Bob Moore, Kansas City’s defense was still consistently strong. In fact, the Chiefs defense kept steadily improving. They limited their opponents to just 208 points during the season, 36 points less than in 1970. Most prognosticators felt that the team would once again be competitive in the AFC West. But there was still some doubt in media circles as to whether the Chiefs could return to their championship form of 1969. The 1971 season is worth reviewing, because in retrospect, it sadly turned out to be the last hurrah for Lanier and Stram. Kansas City began the year in San Diego, on the same field where they had ended the 1970 season in a state of utter humiliation and failure. Unfortunately for the Chiefs, they did not score any points during the second half, while the Chargers scored three touchdowns to post a 21–14 victory. It

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was a rueful way for Coach Stram’s team to start the new season, and any optimism Kansas City had felt going into 1971 seemed to vanish almost immediately. Lanier and the rest of the defense were upset with their second-half performance at San Diego. But Lanier remained hopeful that the mistakes being made would soon diminish. He also kept working hard to hone his craft. By 1971, he had an ace in the hole with that desire—a form of individual motivation, if you will. Lanier had a role model who helped inspire him in his work. For many pro football historians, Dick Butkus of the Chicago Bears is considered to be the greatest middle linebacker in the game’s history. He played in the 1960s and early 1970s with vigor, drive, and an unvarnished desire to maneuver through the game with an unmatched meanness. Throughout the years, however, Willie Lanier has gathered his own support from fans and the media as the rightful owner of Butkus’s mantle. “I really hadn’t thought about focusing on Dick until I made the Chiefs roster and played a couple of seasons, and then started to understand who he really was,” recalled Lanier in 2018, “and how well he played, and how he became the one that you need to notice, if you want to be good also.” 2 Lanier further commented, Butkus always went out to overpower people. The longer I played, the more I realized that quickness and being in the right place could keep me out of a lot of trouble. You can’t consistently try to overpower people when most of them are as big or bigger than you are. Butkus always tried to project the animal image. I never believed in that. I’m not trying to destroy people. After a while that sort of comes back on you. I think Butkus became a victim of his own image. 3

The comparisons between the two men were made by many, certainly by the time the Chiefs had won Super Bowl IV. Both men did particular things really well. For example, Lanier was a better pass defender than Butkus, as evidenced by Willie’s 27 career interceptions (Butkus had 22) and his ability to drop back into zone coverages much quicker than Butkus. But in most people’s opinions, Butkus was better

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than Lanier at creating havoc along the line of scrimmage and intimidating his opponents. Butkus specialized in getting offensive linemen to flinch before the snap of the ball. Butkus also accounted for 25 fumble recoveries during his nine-year career. Lanier, to his credit, often considered the comparisons to be foolhardy. He knew there are literally dozens of different variables in the pro game, and they include such pertinent factors as overall defensive personnel, injuries, differing game plans between teams, and specialized items like the specific game situations every player finds in each game. The factors also include how a defense accounts for its play calling while being three points behind in a game, as opposed to being 30 points behind. One man’s efforts and accomplishments are difficult to compare to another’s, even in the same historical era. “In order to compare two middle linebackers, you’d have to know what their responsibilities are within their own defenses and you’d have to see them against common opponents,” explained Lanier. “You can’t really make the comparison. About the only sport where you can compare like that is track. Two guys can start running, and the one who hits the tape first is best. But I don’t think any good athlete is going to concede that somebody is better than he is.” 4 Lanier then delved deeper into the comparison discussion, saying, You can’t get a conclusive comparison unless all teams have the same defenses and cover patterns in the same manner. One team might play its middle linebacker free with a defensive lineman cutting off all the offensive blocking angles. Take Baltimore on pass coverage . . . all [Baltimore Colts middle linebacker] Mike Curtis has to do is drop back into the deep hook area. He becomes a part of their zone. Maybe if I were an offensive center who had the job of blocking Mike Curtis at Baltimore, maybe I could draw some better conclusions, but you’re always going to favor yourself if you have any pride at all. 5

The level of pride and competitiveness among pro football players can be off the charts. These men simply do not reach this highest level

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of the game without being extremely competitive. Physical ability is not enough. A mental frame of mind where bravado, zeal, unabashed determination, and a simple but solemn drive to succeed is also part of the background of any pro football player. Both Dick Butkus and Willie Lanier had reached those higher echelons of competition. And even though Lanier did not feel that a comparison between himself and Butkus was realistic, they were still being made throughout the league and especially in the press. Kansas City head coach Hank Stram first became aware of Willie Lanier while scanning some scouting reports in 1967. Stram was intrigued and talked to one scout in the Eastern states, who informed him, “You may think I’m crazy, but there’s a kid at Morgan State named Willie Lanier who’s the best at his position I’ve ever seen.” Stram continued the story by stating, “This came from a guy who almost never praised anybody. He told me, ‘This kid destroys people.’” 6 By 1971, Lanier could destroy many of the league’s best running backs, but he could not destroy the debates about who was the league’s best middle linebacker. Those sentiments were constantly being expressed nationwide and were somewhat difficult for any sports fan to ignore. Such magazines as Sport, Football Digest, Pro Quarterback, and others ran articles on the Lanier–Butkus comparison in a seeming effort to outdo one another with increased analysis. Lanier even saw a newspaper in St. Louis that labeled him the “black Dick Butkus,” an insulting label he resented. “I can’t take any pride in being called [that],” Lanier said. “No pride. None whatsoever. It’s just like saying I’m the best black middle linebacker.” 7 His opponents and teammates countered such racial language with lots of praise. “Lanier doesn’t get the publicity he should,” said Washington Redskins running back Larry Brown. “He’s the best linebacker I’ve ever played against.” 8 Dallas Cowboys quarterback Craig Morton commented, “Butkus is a friend of mine and a helluva linebacker, but Lanier has to be the best.” 9 Boston center Jon Morris affirmed that Lanier was the “best middle linebacker I’ve ever played against.” 10 Veteran Kansas City safety Johnny Robinson acclaimed Lanier as the “main

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cog in our defense.” He added, “He’s great at defending the run and gives us a lot of help in pass coverage. He’s strong enough to take on a 260-pound guard or tackle and quick enough to stay with the fastest halfback.” 11 Miami running back Larry Csonka conveyed his own opinion about Lanier, stating, “It’s bad enough running into a grizzly bear, but it’s murder when he’s a smart grizzly.” 12 And Baltimore middle linebacker Mike Curtis, who was sometimes compared to Lanier, described the attributes that made Lanier special. “Willie is heavier than I am,” said Curtis, “and he’s probably stronger in the arms than I am. He probably hits even harder. I know this . . . I’ve seen him get in some super-tough licks.” 13 Summing up that train of thought was none other than Lanier’s teammate, friend, and fellow linebacker, Jim Lynch. “There is nobody—and I mean nobody—who hits as hard as consistently as Willie does,” he said. 14 Willie Lanier was proud of his performances. “I think I do as much or more than any other middle linebacker playing,” he declared. “I mean in being able to stop running plays in the middle or on the outside and to be a factor in the passing lanes, the whole phase of middle linebacking. I feel I more than fit in with any of the top middle linebackers” 15 Hank Stram was well aware of Lanier’s worth to the team’s defense. Stram rightfully praised his middle linebacker for not only his accomplishments, but also what he meant to the team in general. “The fact that he’s the all-American Conference middle linebacker speaks for itself,” Stram said. “It also should be pointed out that you don’t win like we’ve won or have a defense like ours without a Lanier.” 16 Lanier was not too concerned about individual honors as, however, the team tried to shake off the ill effects of their loss to the Chargers to begin the 1971 season. Kansas City managed to pull out a tight victory against the Houston Oilers in their second game, 20–16. Their third game of the year was in Denver at Mile High Stadium, where they had suffered a humiliating defeat the year before. This time, it was the Kansas City defense that administered the humiliation. Four

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different Chiefs defenders intercepted one Don Horn pass apiece. Mammoth defensive end Aaron Brown was one of those recipients. He snared his prize uncontested and rumbled 68 yards for the lone touchdown of the game. Kansas City prevailed, 16–3. “We finally got untracked offensively to maintain control of the ball and get field position,” admitted Hank Stram. 17 Kansas City managed to stay on the right track in the fourth game of the year, a rematch of the season opener versus San Diego. This time the game was at Municipal Stadium, and this time there was some retribution to be had. Kansas City avenged their only loss of the year with a 31–10 spanking of the Chargers. “This is the best we have played this year from a total standpoint,” admitted Coach Stram. “We had good consistency. I was very pleased that we could come back from a 10-point deficit like we did.” 18 Kansas City was now 3–1 in the early stages of 1971, and the good times continued the following week. The Chiefs played host to the Pittsburgh Steelers on October 18, on Monday Night Football. The Kansas City offense erupted for four touchdowns in the second quarter en route to a 38–16 triumph. So far this season, the Chiefs were displaying great effort, but they had yet to play a team that was really considered a contender. That all changed in week six, when the undefeated Washington Redskins came to Missouri. The game versus the Redskins turned out to be one of the best played by any team in the 1971 season. Willie Lanier made a statement on the very first play of the game. Washington running back Larry Brown saw a hole in the middle of the line of scrimmage and charged through it. Lanier filled the hole like a flash of lightning and unloaded on Brown with a hit that resounded throughout Municipal Stadium. Brown instantly fumbled the ball, and as Lanier planted him into the turf with the right side of his upper body, he snatched the football from amid several other fallen players with his left arm. It was an incredible play. Despite Lanier’s big play to begin the game, the Chiefs offense turned over the ball shortly thereafter when Len Dawson threw an interception near the Washington goal line. The Redskins proceeded to

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take control of the first half until Lanier once again made his presence felt. He intercepted a Billy Kilmer pass and returned it 17 yards to put the Chiefs back in scoring position. Lanier had a pair of sure hands, and his ability to intercept passes was no accident, since he considered every facet of defensive play equally important, notably catching a pass from an opposing quarterback. He worked hard to hone his skills. “Dawson and I would go out in the offseason,” Lanier related. We would come to the stadium. Instead of doing defensive things, I would run patterns. And I would try to run them specifically, and more so the quick slant. A lot of times on the quick slant, maybe 10 to 12 yards downfield. That’s the one I could really go get as a middle linebacker, taking that angle drop. So that was something that Dawson and I did, and we really enjoyed it. I ran a few quick slants. He threw the ball. So, it was something that I really felt was a very good part of the understanding of the offense, to assist in what you did defensively. 19

The Redskins led at halftime, 17–6, but the Chiefs defense limited the Washington offense to a lone field goal in the second half, as Stram’s club came back and pulled off one of their greatest wins of the season, 27–20. Kansas City owned a NFL-best record of 5–1 near the middle of the 1971 campaign. “We paid the total price in the second half, and that’s why we won,” Coach Stram exclaimed. “We beat an excellent team. We felt all along we could do damage to the right side of their line. They’re a great team, but they can’t stop everybody.” 20 Unfortunately for Kansas City, their days of stopping opponents was knocked askew the following week, when they traveled to Oakland to face their old divisional nemesis, the Raiders. The statistics in this game are almost identical. Kansas City accrued 248 total yards, while Oakland earned 252. Lanier managed to intercept another pass, but it did not lead to a score. Unsurprisingly, the game ended in a 20–20 tie. The Chiefs’ ranking of excellence got a little worse the following week, when they played the Jets in Shea Stadium. Kansas City’s offense

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played down to the level of their opponent (the Jets were 2–5 at the time) and had one of its worst showings of the year. Willie Lanier continued to make big plays, however. On a second-quarter swing pass from Jets quarterback Bob Davis to running back John Riggins, Lanier swooped in from a narrow angle and poked the ball out of Riggins’s arm. Fellow defender Bobby Bell made the key recovery, leading to a Kansas City field goal. Sadly for the Chiefs, mistakes like Riggins’s fumble did not differentiate between the two teams. Kansas City suffered a 13–10 defeat. The situation the Chiefs found themselves in was indeed troublesome. They were surging toward a division title when a tie and a loss in consecutive weeks gave them great cause to reassess their situation. The offense was unable to score many points in its ninth game of the year against the struggling Cleveland Browns. They did manage to account for 384 yards in the game, but the Chiefs committed two key fumbles that halted promising drives. Fortunately for Kansas City, the Browns made some crucial mistakes as well, giving up the ball three times. Willie Lanier stopped a Cleveland drive in the second half when he recovered Browns running back Bo Scott’s fumble at the Chiefs’ 17yard line. Kansas City held on for a 13–7 win, which gave them a 6–2–1 record. Oakland (6–1–2) at this point remained a half-game ahead in the AFC West standings. Kansas City defeated their next opponent, the Denver Broncos, by a score of 28–10, on November 21. A few days later the Chiefs traveled to Detroit to tangle with the Lions on Thanksgiving. Detroit was a playoff team from the previous year, and they were playing strong again in 1971. The Chiefs fell behind at halftime, 17–7, and despite three touchdowns from halfback Ed Podolak, they were never able to catch up. The Kansas City defense had its worst outing of the season, giving up 381 yards in the 32–21 loss. The Chiefs now owned a 7–3–1 record, while the Raiders remained in first place with a 7–2–2 mark. Kansas City next traveled to San Francisco on December 6 to face the 49ers on Monday Night Football. This was a great opportunity for the Chiefs to send a message on national television that they were still a

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strong, contending team. Both Kansas City and San Francisco played good games, especially on offense. Len Dawson connected on 16 of 28 passes for 263 yards and one touchdown, while his counterpart for the 49ers, quarterback John Brodie, completed 20 passes in 32 attempts for 229 yards and one touchdown. In this game, the Kansas City defense held on strong in the fourth quarter when they really needed to, and the Chiefs prevailed, 26–17. Willie Lanier once again stuffed opposing runners and limited San Francisco’s often imposing ground game to just 112 yards. Things were finally looking better for the Chiefs as the 1971 regular season neared its end. A day before Kansas City defeated San Francisco, the Atlanta Falcons managed to upset the Oakland Raiders. That key event helped the Chiefs immensely in the AFC West standings. Coach Stram’s team now owned a one-game lead in the division, and if they could beat the Raiders the following week in Kansas City, they would win the division title for the first time since 1966. By this time, the media was ginning up this rivalry as some sort of “Holy War,” in which both teams were out to figuratively kill one another. But Willie Lanier had a much different take on the Oakland–Kansas City rivalry— even much different than many of his teammates. “Well see, my warming up to the rivalry didn’t take it to the level of a word called hate,” confirmed Lanier. Because the way I played, I didn’t allow that kind of psychological emotion to get into the midst of the game. Because mine was one of having to play a quality game in a controlled manner, and in that way you wouldn’t hurt your team, because you would go across the line at times if you allowed hate to be a part of view. And maybe you cause your team to then have issues later. But it [the rivalry] was one that I had a great respect . . . I had a great respect for the Raiders. Because they were the team that was our nemesis, so to speak, for all the years that I was in Kansas City. So, what you want to do is to be able to play at a high level against that team you find has the ability—especially in your own division— to cause you to have to play better. And they [the Raiders] were the

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ones who did that, so my play would be enhanced because of the quality of their play. And it was one of just enjoying the competition. Because after a game with the Raiders, Buck [Buchanan], as an example, maybe Bobby Bell and I would go over to their locker room, wish them well, thank them for a quality game win or lose. So, it was a highly fought contest, but in my mind that word was not one that I was affixed to on how I approached the game and played against their team. 21

The Chiefs approached their game against the Raiders on a crisp and cold December 12 day with the thought that they would grab a quick lead and build on it. But Oakland possessed a penchant for coming from behind and stealing victories. During this tough struggle, Kansas City grabbed that quick lead, just as they had hoped, but in the second quarter, Oakland came back to tie the game. A couple of successful Jan Stenerud field goals at the end of the second quarter then gave the Chiefs a 13–7 lead at halftime. The Raiders came back in the fourth quarter, as was their custom, and took a 14–13 lead. But one more Stenerud field goal won the game for Kansas City, 16–14. The Chiefs had thus reclaimed the AFC West Division crown, and it was one of the most joyful moments in the team’s history. Hank Stram’s team was peaking at just the right time. “It had to be one of the greatest wins we’ve had,” admitted Stram. “This one had great significance.” 22 The divisional playoffs beckoned on Christmas Day 1971. Willie Lanier and his teammates were, for the most part, healthy, and they were determined to right the wrongs of 1970. A youthful and upstart Miami Dolphins team (who, like the Chiefs, posted a 10–3–1 regularseason record) visited Municipal Stadium as champions of the AFC Eastern Division. By the time these two teams were finished playing several long hours later, the victor of one of the greatest playoff games in NFL history would be decided. This “marathon” contest entered two overtime periods—a full 82 minutes and 40 seconds of action—before a winner emerged. It is still the longest game in pro football history.

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The Chiefs appeared to be the stronger team on paper. They were certainly a more veteran team than the Dolphins, and in the playoffs, experience often counts for a lot. Kansas City had reached the pinnacle of the game just two years earlier, winning a world championship, while Miami had never won a single playoff game. From the onset, Kansas City’s experience was obvious, as they took a quick lead on the Dolphins. Willie Lanier had been igniting the Chiefs, with a key play or two at the beginning of many of the team’s games in 1971, particularly late in the year. He continued that practice early in the first quarter against Miami. With Kansas City leading 3–0, Lanier dropped into a zone coverage and correctly determined Miami quarterback Bob Griese’s intentions. Lanier darted in front of Griese’s intended receiver, tight end Marv Fleming, intercepted the pass, and then surged 17 yards upfield before he was tackled. Kansas City halfback Ed Podolak, who on this day had the greatest statistical game in NFL playoff history, then caught a swing pass from Len Dawson and scored standing up from seven yards out. The Chiefs owned a 10–0 lead as the first quarter ended. “Ed played his best game, and some would argue one of the best offensive games ever,” Lanier said. “It was one of the greatest offensive performances that I’ve ever seen.” 23 The fortunes for both teams were reversed in the second quarter, however. The Dolphins finally started to move the ball, and they managed to tie the game at 10–10 by halftime. As the third quarter began, one sensed this was going to be a battle of extreme attrition. A Kansas City drive early in the third quarter led to a one-yard touchdown plunge by Chiefs fullback Jim Otis. The Dolphins immediately responded with a one-yard touchdown run by running back Jim Kiick, which evened the score at 17–17. Each possession was vital at this point, and any single play could open the door to victory. A 63-yard bomb deep down the middle of the field from Len Dawson to rookie wide receiver Elmo Wright appeared to be that one big play. It placed the ball within easy scoring range for the Chiefs. Ed Podolak did the honors, as he plowed

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through safety Dick Anderson and into the end zone for a three-yard touchdown. Things were looking good for Kansas City. All the defense had to do was stop the Miami offense with just seven minutes left on the clock— or, at the very least, limit them to only a field goal. This they could not do, however. Griese drove the Dolphins downfield within several minutes. He avoided a sack in his crowded pocket with barely 90 seconds left in the fourth quarter, rolled to his right, and threw a perfect pass to Fleming, who snared the ball deep in the Kansas City end zone. The contest was now tied, 24–24, and the drama continued. Ed Podolak continued his efforts, too. By the time he removed his jersey and shoulder pads, he had accounted for 350 all-purpose yards. No other player has eclipsed that mark in a playoff game. Podolak returned Garo Yepremian’s ensuing kickoff 78 yards, placing the Chiefs within easy range of a 32-yard Jan Stenerud field goal. It looked like this was a done deal. The ball left Stenerud’s foot and arched along Missouri’s night sky. It somehow drifted just a foot or so wide of the right upright. None of his teammates—nor Stenerud himself—could believe he missed. The game would enter its first overtime period. “I think that any field goal that Jan would kick . . . we hope that it would be automatic,” said Lanier. 24 “There was no question in my mind that I was going to make it,” added Stenerud. “I still don’t know how to this day I missed it. I hit the ball perfectly. I hit the ball firm and well. There was hardly any wind at all. The turf, especially at that spot, was pretty good.” 25 Playoff football brings out many raw emotions, and the determination of players becomes much stronger. Willie Lanier certainly knew this. The tension of the moment brings out the best in men who would do almost anything to will their team to victory, as previously demonstrated by Lanier against the New York Jets in the 1969 AFL playoffs (see chapter 5). In the 1971 divisional playoff versus the Dolphins, Lanier and company did not hold back. Now, in an extra quarter, they had to find a way to renew their strength in the added minutes of this epic struggle.

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“That game took on such a dimension, that players found themselves not being able to monitor the timing of a game,” Lanier explained. Most times [there] was an end point of regulation. You’d have an idea of how much energy you exert as the game progresses, then you’d manage yourself through that, regardless of what the coaches say. Regardless of whether they ask 100 percent all the time. There’s a management that goes on in the way that individuals know how to play a sport. But to see that game then come down 24–24, now finding yourself realizing that you will play forever if you have to, because that is what you would need to do to have the outcome settled. 26

He later stated, It wasn’t as if [there] was a tremendous amount of distress, because all you do is just keep playing. And we felt that we could keep playing, and we thought that we had the better team. I think that we were hopeful that our better team would show itself, and then we’d have a chance to be victorious. 27

“What I’m hoping, and always have, is for the other players who play with me to perform at their highest level,” explained Lanier. “And I’m also hoping for the other team to play at its highest level. I want everybody on their day to play at their highest level, and [the] outcome will fall wherever it falls. Because I think that’s the essence of competition. That makes for the great American event to occur.” 28 This great and dramatic American event would now declare as the winner the first team to score. During such a unique moment of a playoff game, mistakes seem to be magnified. Opportunities to score are rare. Podolak returned the sudden-death overtime kickoff to the Chiefs’ 46-yard line, giving Kansas City excellent position to begin their drive. Dawson once again led the offense downfield, and Stenerud was given a chance to redeem himself, this time on a 42-yard field goal attempt. Unfortunately for Stenerud, his attempt was blocked by middle linebacker Nick Buoniconti. Lanier and the Chiefs defense stopped

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the Dolphins offense once again, however, and Dawson took his offense into Miami territory once more. Undesirably for Kansas City, safety Jake Scott intercepted a Dawson pass. “So you realize that certain things that enter your thoughts in regards to a potential outcome that doesn’t come out in your favor,” said Lanier in discussing Kansas City’s mistakes and their outcomes on that Christmas Day. “You try not to let those thoughts creep in, but it becomes a lot of different moments in the game with an error here or an error there, that can start to shift away whatever is good and reassuring in the way that you play.” 29 The game now stretched into the second 15-minute sudden-death overtime period. More 15-minute periods would be added until one team scored. Fans in the stands at Municipal Stadium and television viewers from coast to coast knew they were witnessing pro football history. The action continued when Miami running back Larry Csonka ran a misdirection trap draw play for 29 yards, easily his longest run of the day. The Chiefs defense had stuffed him up to that point. “On that play, I was gone,” admitted Lanier. I wasn’t anywhere near it. I followed Kiick, and as soon as I had taken a step and a half to the outside, I said to myself, “Damn, the play is going the other way.” In a situation like that, all you can do is hope that somebody else will recover in time to stop Csonka. One thing that I’m sure of is that if Kiick had gotten the ball he would have been hung. The reason why that misdirection play worked so well, was that Griese hadn’t shown it to us before. At that particular time of the game, there was a certain tenseness that you wouldn’t ordinarily be confronted with. It was a time of immediate choice, and we were keyed to react to what the Dolphins had shown us in the past. It was this very factor that made all our linebackers react so quickly to Kiick’s move to the outside. 30

Csonka’s run gave the Dolphins their best field position of both overtime periods, and placekicker Garo Yepremian provided the ending. His 37-yard field goal sent the Dolphins to the AFC Championship

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Game and the Chiefs to a premature offseason. As Willie Lanier trudged off the field after one of the most bitter and depressing losses in Kansas City football history, he naturally felt dispirited as a result of losing a game that should never have been lost. But after many years of contemplating the events of that day, Lanier has several perspectives on this contest. “It was just a very unique day, and one that I always have a great place in my memory for it,” admitted Lanier. It was one that I didn’t really expect many of the players that played that day to have another day like that. Because I thought you would have to have the same set of circumstances present to create the opportunity to really see what it is to play in sudden death, where you really play every play. That was the first true time that I can remember that you played every play as if it were the last play, because it was. Prior to that, if you would say it in a game to players, it’s hard to accept because you know there are other plays that you have an opportunity to make, based on where you are as far as the regulation and time of the game. But once you’re in sudden death, every play was the one that you either won or lost on. It was just one of those awesome days. 31

To his credit, Lanier never expressed disgust regarding Jan Stenerud’s missed field goal attempts. In a team game like football, the players play for one another as much as they play to win or lose. Moreover, you win or lose as a team. Lanier knew this from the very first day he played the sport at Maggie Walker High School in Richmond, Virginia. He was not going to offer up any criticism after the loss to the Dolphins. “There’s no blaming anyone,” said Lanier. “I missed big tackles, someone misses a kick. So what? You’re looking for an easy way out when you do that, and there’s no easy way when you lose. They came up with the big third-down plays, that’s all.” 32 The Miami–Kansas City divisional playoff game on December 25, 1971, has been elevated to legendary status—and rightly so. That struggle left an indelible mark on the 50,374 people who saw it in person, the

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millions who watched it on television, and every man who played in it. Its duration was sure to wear down the players, but, ironically and somewhat surprisingly, Willie Lanier did not feel any diminishing strength as he left the field. “The point is that your adrenaline is at such a high level, that you really don’t have a chance to know what being tired is,” recalled Lanier, who had plenty of stamina left in his reserve tank. You can control the performance, and what you’re trying to do is perform at your highest level. I have a quick commentary about the length of that game, and this was asked of me by President Richard Milhous Nixon in February of 1972. I was invited to the White House for a drug conference, looking at stopping opium coming in from Afghanistan to make heroin. So, in the midst of this program at the White House, I had a chance to meet the president, and he was a big football fan. So, what he does is ask me about this game that was a month and a half earlier. He asked me, “Did you get tired?” And I said, “No, Mr. President. We could still be playing today (chuckle).” Because you don’t know how long long is. And it wasn’t a chance to really feel tired, because it went into the longest game ever played. And I don’t think that any of those of us who had a chance to be a part of that game . . . you really didn’t feel winded after it. Because it takes you to such a psychological high, and having to continue to perform until it ends, you didn’t have any way to measure something. Even if you measured it, you couldn’t do a thing about it. Because you have to continue to play until the end of the contest. 33

Such was the end of the contest. The end of the longest pro football game ever played. The end of the 1971 season for Willie Lanier and the Kansas City Chiefs.

9 TO RETIRE OR NOT TO RETIRE

Willie Lanier was not aware of it at the time, but he would not participate in another playoff game in his pro football career after the tough loss to the Miami Dolphins on Christmas Day, 1971. He suited up for the Chiefs for six more seasons, however, and even though from 1972 to 1977 he did not experience the same amount of success as in his first five years in the sport, those years were nevertheless important in telling Lanier’s story. Those six seasons saw the team regress in terms of wins and quality of play. But they also saw Lanier progress as a true professional and as a man who was actively preparing for the future. From time to time, America’s trailblazing middle linebacker thought about his retirement from his beloved sport, and from 1974 to 1977, he acted on those thoughts in one way or another. In the end, Lanier lived his final moments on the gridiron with an abundance of class and dignity, just as everyone expected him to do. But as Lanier was primed to begin the 1972 season, both he and his teammates felt that victory would be theirs. Certainly, the so-called pro football media experts had been impressed by the Chiefs’ 1971 season, and many of them felt that Kansas City was sure to repeat as AFC Western Division champions in 1972. But the Chiefs were slowly becoming a different team. Many of the players from Lanier’s rookie season were gone by the time 1972 rolled around, and many of the younger athletes who now filled out the roster were not the same cali165

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ber as those reliable veterans. Most of Hank Stram’s men stayed healthy throughout 1971, which was a big reason for their 10 wins that season. The opposite was true in 1972, and that fact did plenty of damage to Kansas City’s hopes to return to the playoffs. The Chiefs also did not return to Municipal Stadium in 1972. They moved into a brand new, beautiful venue, Arrowhead Stadium, a futuristic 80,000-seat football facility. The Chiefs no longer had to share their home field with the Kansas City Royals baseball team, who had their own brand new stadium just a stone’s throw away from Arrowhead. Nevertheless, some of the players sorely missed the atmosphere at old Municipal Stadium. “Arrowhead was a peerless facility, [but] it seemed to have a sameness to it,” observed Willie Lanier. We only went to Municipal Stadium on game day. Going to Arrowhead, it became your facility during the week, it became a place that you played the game on Sunday and a place where you would be on Monday, where [the work week] all started. And it seemed that whatever the aura might have been that came from playing at Municipal Stadium, that oldest facility, rundown, did not have all of the great creature comforts, but one like an old home . . . an old shoe that fits well. That causes you to be very confident when you go in and sit down. But the place where you gained your comfort of winning when another team shows up, which means that you are able to beat them handily, shifted once we ended up at Arrowhead. And obviously as you know we had this spiral that started to unfold there that continued for a very long time. 1

Kansas City’s downward spiral began during the first game of 1972. The Chiefs had no problem selling tickets to their first regular-season contest, a rematch of their previous playoff game versus Miami. Despite the fact that the Chiefs had the theory of revenge on their side, the Dolphins had some heat from Miami as their ally. The temperature on the artificial turf at Arrowhead Stadium on that day hovered above 100 degrees Fahrenheit, which took its toll on both teams. But the Dolphins seemed to be able to deal with the burning sun and stifling

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humidity better than Kansas City. They took advantage of four Chiefs turnovers, leading to all of Miami’s points in their 20–10 triumph. The hopes for vindication were gone. “I saw someone place a thermometer on the field pregame, and the mercury ran up to 125, which meant that it was hotter than that on the surface of the field,” recalled Lanier. So Miami was a hot-weather team, and they were on the side of the field that blocked the view of the sun for at least a quarter. We were on the other side of the field, which was in the direct sunlight. So, there were a lot of factors that occurred in that game. My commentary is not one of thinking that I saw anything [in the Miami team] that was going to lead to greatness, because my feeling was that we still had the dominant team. They won that game on Christmas Day, and the weather helped them win the opener in ’72. 2

Kansas City tried to rebound during their next three games, each of which were on the road. They did this quite efficiently, as they came from behind to upend the Saints on Monday Night Football, 20–17. The Chiefs then exploded for a big win at Denver by a score of 45–24. The Chiefs defense played even better the following week in Cleveland, as they capitalized on eight turnovers en route to a 31–7 rout of the Browns. Willie Lanier accounted for one of those turnovers, as he intercepted his first pass of the year. Kansas City now owned a divisionleading 3–1 record, and everything appeared fine and on track as the team came back to Arrowhead to play their next two games. You could make a solid argument that the Chiefs lost their hopes for an appearance in the 1972 playoffs at this exact point in the season. They suffered two consecutive losses at home to Cincinnati and Philadelphia. Despite Lanier’s continuing solid level of play, Kansas City was faltering. Hank Stram’s team was defeated by a strong team in the Bengals, but they simply had no excuse for losing to the lowly Eagles. The defending AFC West champions were now the laughingstock of the league. Absorbing an upsetting loss to a weak opponent does that to you.

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“I feel basically that we didn’t perform well,” admitted Lanier. Regardless of your talent, you still have to go out and win. We can say we were better than Philadelphia, but we didn’t get the job done. You have to go out and attack from the opening of the game and let them know that you are better than they are. People talked about us getting old, but they were just looking for some way to explain why we didn’t win. If we had beaten Philadelphia by one point, no one would have said anything about us getting old. 3

Kansas City rebounded following the Philadelphia fiasco in a victory over host San Diego the next week, 26–14. Then they won their first regular-season game at Arrowhead Stadium by defeating the archrival Oakland Raiders, 27–14. But just when it appeared as if the team had turned things around, they once again went into a slump. The Chiefs lost each of their next three games, costing them any chance of repeating as AFC West Division champions. Kansas City managed to win their final three games of the year to finish the 1972 campaign with an 8–6 mark, a winning record to be sure. But in retrospect, doubts as to their abilities to succeed were surfacing, even just a year removed from a division title. “I would not describe 1972 as a successful year,” proclaimed former Kansas City public relations director and current team historian Bob Moore. The Chiefs finished second in the division to Oakland, and Oakland at that particular point is ascending. The die is about to be cast. The Chiefs are a descending team. And what happens at the end of the 1972 season, is that they go off and rip off three wins in a row. But this becomes a pattern for the Chiefs. They end the season strong, and then everybody says, “Oh, it’s going to be a good year [next year]. They just stumble along the way, and then we’ll be good again next year.” But, I mean, they’re getting beat by Oakland, they’re not scoring very many points, and they’re losing to teams that they should beat. And again, the pattern is about to be set. They’re just losing, and it continues. 4

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Despite not going to the playoffs in 1972, Willie Lanier was going to the AFC Championship Game at Pittsburgh nevertheless. He was set to appear at Three Rivers Stadium to be honored as NFL Man of the Year for 1972. After each season ends, the league hands out awards to various players for a variety of reasons. The prestigious NFL Man of the Year award is given annually to the man who not only demonstrates both exceptional athletic and leadership abilities on the football field, but also sacrifices his time and services in the arena of community involvement. Willie Lanier was a man ahead of his time. He frequently offered his energy and intellect to help youngsters in Kansas City, as well as his old stomping grounds in Richmond and Baltimore, the city where he spent his collegiate years. He was helping out these communities years before the practice of professional athletes aiding inner city citizens became commonplace in the world of sports. His work in the early 1970s centered on fighting the drug abuse problem in the United States, but he did not stop there. The organizations Lanier was helping out—and continues to help out—are voluminous and impressive. He participated in fund-raising campaigns for the American Cancer Society, the March of Dimes, the Easter Seals organization, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, and the Boys Club. As with everything Lanier did (and does), there are profound and important reasons that serve as the motivation for his efforts. “I enjoy having the compassion to work with groups,” Lanier explained. You don’t forget how you grew up. I know how it is in the inner city. I know what it is to see youth stifled because of color. I have to be cognizant that things are unfair to start with. Because of various circumstances, there are those who are at a bit of a disadvantage. I know how fortunate I’ve been, and I’ve been back and seen some of the people I grew up with not having the proper drive to get out of that situation. In doing a lot of [charitable] things, sometimes you wonder how much you accomplish, but you have to go out and do them anyway. I

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take great pride in helping others accomplish something that they might not otherwise be able to do. Oh, you don’t know what they’ll do over the long term, but at least you’re getting in on the ground floor. 5

As one who started his life on the ground floor himself, it is quite impressive to observe how much Willie Lanier had accomplished, much of it well before his 30th birthday. Sometimes, players in pro football receive awards based more on the hyped headlines than anything else. The NFL Man of the Year award is different. It stands out as a tangible honor recognizing the sacrifices a player makes. Even NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle was eager to praise Lanier in a letter he penned to the man who was fast becoming the “pride of Kansas City.” “I once read a quote attributed to you, which said, ‘Honors don’t mean anything if they are just for myself,’” wrote Rozelle, who continued the Lanier quote by stating, “If you can’t help other people, then you have to wonder if the job is worth doing.” Certainly, as a Kansas City Chief, you have won many honors. Now again, Willie Lanier is being honored. Not so much for his football exploits. But as Willie Lanier—Man of the Year. And those who will really profit are the young people who will share the dais with you as recipients of the Vitalis Scholarships [in Lanier’s name]. Let us hope that their futures will be a source of pride to you in the same measure that the NFL is proud of Willie Lanier, player and man. 6

The $25,000 in scholarship money that the award presented was very important to Lanier, thanks once again to his own recollections of his youth. “I can look back when I was a high school senior seeking scholarship aid,” Lanier recalled. “I realize how difficult it was. I kept talking with [Coach] Earl Banks at Morgan State, trying to get any type of aid I could. I wasn’t talking about anything big, just $200 or $300.” 7 Lanier’s pride was always there. But the Chiefs never won more than seven games in a season from 1973 to 1977. Lanier’s name was

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regularly seen on the All-Pro team during many of those lamentable years, but the designation meant little to Kansas City’s middle linebacker. He still yearned for victories, but during the final years of Lanier’s career both he and his teammates would be relegated to watching the NFL playoffs from the comfort of their own living rooms. Movie fans, on the other hand, could watch Lanier in their local cinemas. In the early spring of 1973, he was given an opportunity to act in a B-movie entitled The Black 6. The film, which was written by George Theokas and produced and directed by Matt Cimber for a firm named Miracle Pictures, also included fellow African American NFL players Gene Washington of the 49ers, Carl Eller of the Vikings, Lem Barney of the Lions, Mercury Morris of the Dolphins, and “Mean” Joe Greene of the Steelers. The story line of the movie was current with the news of the tension-filled times, as a fictitious African American high school student dates a Caucasian girl and then gets murdered by the girl’s brother and his motorcycle gang. Predictably, the dead student’s brother is a member of an African American motorcycle gang, and they get together for some payback against the Caucasian motorcycle gang, which has somehow increased to 150 members. The film was billed as “six times tougher than Shaft” and “six times rougher than Superfly!” 8 The movie was definitely a low-budget enterprise, filmed with audio and video equipment that is quite amateurish when compared to today’s apparatuses. Despite William Swenning’s poor cinematography, the rather weak script, and the overt racism that formed the backbone of the plot, the movie was hoped by Cimber to be remembered as a cult classic. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the film was panned by most critics as a typical blaxploitation film, and it flopped at the box office. Willie Lanier, however, was one of the actors who was happy to have the opportunity to be a part of the film. “It was an interesting situation to get involved in,” explained Lanier. To see how it was put together from the script standpoint and production, and how to sit back and see what happens. It was a very natural type of script but demanding because you were tied up for 12

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to 14 hours a day, although you might only act for about three. It was the waiting that was tiring from a mental standpoint. 9

Lanier also commented, “I [had] to ride a motorcycle. I’ve never done anything like that before, so it [was] a good experience.” 10 He further stated, “But see, I understood something about the media. Someone wants to give you an opportunity to be presented to the nation in film and you don’t take it, you’re as dumb as dirt. It’s capitalism. It’s purely, and I understood that coming out of college, capitalism. Someone wants to present you!” 11 The 1974 season presented the Chiefs with yet another chance to redeem themselves from their lackluster 7–5–2 record in 1973. Sadly, the new year turned out to be even worse for Kansas City. They only won five times in 1974, and when the season was over, Hank Stram was fired. Despite the losses, Willie Lanier had been giving great effort throughout the 1974 campaign, even in games when the Chiefs had no hope of winning. Just ask Oakland Raiders wide receiver Fred Biletnikoff. In a week-two contest at Oakland, the Raiders were cruising to an easy victory with a 20-point lead late in the game. The Oakland offense attempted a pass down the middle of the field, well over Lanier’s zone of coverage. But the Kansas City middle linebacker knew what Raiders quarterback Ken Stabler was trying to do, and for only a brief moment, it drew his ire. His hustling and zeal as a hitter did the rest. “It was on a 3rd and 1, and, instead of them using their great line to run for a first down, they chose to throw long for a quick score,” recalled Lanier. I really didn’t think they had to do that. When I headed downfield I had a little malice aforethought. Fred reached for the ball, and I sorta hit him with everything wide open. It was unfortunate. I didn’t mean to break his nose. After he was hurt, after I realized what happened to him, I was apologizing at that moment, at the half, after the game, and I have been apologizing to him ever since. 12

But by the end of 1974, Willie Lanier did not need to apologize or feel guilty for the many other interests that were tugging at his heart

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and on his mind. Even during his earliest years in the league, he had worked in the business world, taking advantage of the business degree he had earned at Morgan State University. He was employed during one offseason as a promoter for the Downtown Wholesalers company in Kansas City. That job gave him practical and hands-on knowledge about various products and retailers. In 1973, he signed on with Philip Morris to be a general manager of their pilot plant tobacco operation. Following the 1974 NFL season, the Philip Morris agency believed Lanier might join their company on a full-time basis. Their offer was thought-provoking for Lanier, and it was not an easy decision for him to make. There were many factors involved. For one, Lanier was in the prime of his athletic career, but there was no way to determine how much longer he could stay in top physical shape. Taking and delivering hard hits for four years in high school, four years in college, and eight years in pro football had taken a toll on his body, as it does every player. Lanier was smart enough to want to avoid a situation where irreparable harm could be done to his body by playing the game longer than he was physically able. Two, his head coach, the only head coach he had ever played for in the pro ranks, was gone. Hank Stram had left an indelible impression on Lanier, and by agreeing to play in 1975, he had to get used to a new coach, Paul Wiggin. Willie Lanier was a valuable commodity to the Chiefs, mostly because he provided the team with proven leadership, something the vast number of younger players on the team desperately needed. Wiggin tried his best in the spring and summer of 1975 (and in 1976 and 1977, as well) to talk Lanier into playing pro football for another year in Kansas City. Three, the NFL Players Association was just one year removed from a players’ strike that had harmed much of the 1974 summer training camps. It was not the first players’ strike in pro football history, and it would not be the last. The uncertainty that resulted from the 1974 strike lingered in 1975, in the minds of some of the veteran players. Some might have even felt that players’ strikes, encouraged by a more dynamic and more determined players’ union, would become a com-

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mon event. To no one’s surprise, Willie Lanier was in support of the players’ point of view. “Why can’t a football player have the same freedom as a writer or anyone else?” Lanier reasoned. 13 Finally, the 1974 players’ strike left Lanier questioning his stability with the Chiefs’ upper management. He began exploring his business opportunities in earnest during this time, and he was not alone. “I think that he was planning for his post-football career, just as much as Jim Lynch was,” said team historian Bob Moore. “Those guys are talking about retirement by that point. They’re having conversations. It was pretty clear by then [after the 1973 season] that the team was not going to be getting any better. And the veteran players started leaving.” 14 Lanier could not totally refute Moore’s assertions. But many NFL players had announced their retirement, only to return. Lanier had a decision to make, and it is interesting to explore his thought processes as he debated his choices, with pro football and the business world each trying to claim victory in Lanier’s immediate future. “Like anyone else, when you go into something, you want to reach the top,” explained Lanier in late summer of 1974. It’s been that way for me and football. You want recognition and the respect of the people you play with. But I don’t want to play on and on until they trade you or you have to retire. Why not go out when you’re on top? Physically, I feel better this year than at any time since I was a teenager, but mentally, there is a question of involvement. You take the next three or four years, you can’t tell how well you’ll continue to play. All through my career I’ve been meeting people and learning various businesses. Knowledge is my security for the future, not football. As players we have to understand our function. If we are injured our usefulness is taken away. I understand that. Initially I might not have grasped that point, but the longer you play, the more you become aware of it. 15

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In the mid-1970s, the uncertainty of his future forced Willie Lanier to take a good look at what he wanted out of his life. He had to take stock in what he had accomplished in football, but in an era where African American assistant coaches in the NFL were few in number, he may have felt the odds of finding financial success were higher in the business world than if he tried to remain in pro football as an assistant coach. Just prior to the start of the 1975 season, Lanier agreed to play one more year for the Chiefs. Coach Wiggin breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Lanier’s decision. Lanier and Wiggin agreed to table the issue of the linebacker’s possible retirement until 1976, when they would revisit the matter. Lanier’s business employer, Philip Morris, would have to wait another six months to enlist the linebacker’s services on a full-time basis, during the NFL offseason. For now, the retirement question was at least temporarily solved. But Paul Wiggin nevertheless had to figure out how to succeed with a roster of mostly younger players. At least he had Willie Lanier’s leadership to draw upon for one more year. Wiggin certainly needed Lanier’s leadership. The 1975 version of the Kansas City Chiefs suffered the typical and expected growing pains of a young squad with a new head coach. The results were unsurprising, as the Chiefs lost nine games, just as they had the previous year. But Lanier turned in one of his best seasons ever. He intercepted five passes, and, for the final time in his career, he once again made the NFL’s All-Pro team. The Chiefs ended the 1975 season with a 28–20 loss at Oakland. It was a depressing finish to a season that could have seen the team produce a winning record, had they not dissolved down the stretch. Despite Kansas City’s failure in their overall 5–9 record, they had to be proud of the way Willie Lanier performed. He kept a mostly young and inexperienced defense playing hard throughout much of the year, and there was not a single game where you did not see him hustling like he was still a rookie.

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“From roughly 1969 to 1972, you could make a case that there was no better middle linebacker in pro football than Willie Lanier,” opined esteemed pro football historian and author T. J. Troup. He had all the tools. He could hit very hard, he was very quick, and he had great instinct. He could dominate games during that time frame. He stayed relatively healthy all throughout his career. As a professional, he did not slack off at all. If you look at films of Lanier, you’ll notice that he still hustled just as much on the field in 1975 as he did in 1969. And he still hit as hard too. During the latter years of his pro football career, however, he was not surrounded by the type of talent that he was in his earlier years with the team. He was still playing the game just as hard as ever, but his environment changed. He did not have guys like a Bobby Bell playing alongside of him or a Curley Culp keeping offensive linemen from blocking him. 16

Adding to Troup’s thoughts was the fact that the Chiefs defense had to blitz more from 1972 to 1977, because their defensive line was not penetrating as well as they did during Lanier’s earlier years on the team. The result was not favorable for Kansas City. When an opposing quarterback was able to beat the Chiefs’ blitz, which frequently occurred, Lanier and the rest of the Kansas City defense was subject to many more big plays from their opponents, and they surrendered much more yardage and points. Sadly, Kansas City’s 1976 season was a repeat of the previous year, with only five wins to their credit. Paul Wiggin once again coaxed Willie Lanier into playing another year. But Wiggin also decided to bench Lanier early in the season in an attempt to give a youngster, Jimbo Elrod, a chance to gain some game experience. Lanier took the benching like a true professional, helping out Elrod as much as he could. Wiggin then changed his mind a few weeks later, and Lanier returned to the starting lineup for the remainder of his career. The benching may have found a spot in the back of Lanier’s mind following 1976. He decided to keep his options open by repeating what he had done in the previous offseason, working at the Philip Morris

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Agency and deciding whether to play football for another year as the season drew nearer. But Lanier was wise and pragmatic enough to realize that making the jump from football to business was not going to get any easier. It took a lot of soul-searching and some level of grasping reality for him to make his decision. He knew choosing between two things he loved in equal amounts was going to be tough. “Sure I’ll miss the game,” Lanier said in a contemplative discussion. “I’ve been at it too long not to. I’ve got to get completely immersed in whatever I’m doing. Totally.” 17 He further declared, “It’s too difficult to serve two masters. I found I still wanted to play football and felt going back and forth would create too many problems.” 18 Lanier also said, “There’s going to have to be some sort of replacement, because there’s going to be a void. Anyone who has played for any length of time has derived a lot of pleasure being out there in the arena . . . participating in the game.” 19 Willie Lanier eventually decided to play another season for the Chiefs in 1977. His status of team leader was once again renewed by Coach Wiggin, in the hopes that the defense might keep the opposing scores low enough to allow the offense time to gel and produce more points. By this time, however, Lanier knew his time in the league was limited. Personal pride forms the marrow of Willie Lanier’s mental structure. He was a proven champion. But he did not give in to a potential sullenness after being benched in 1976 or the string of losses in 1977. Lanier knew he served as an example for everyone associated with the team. He was a model of maturity for the younger men on the squad. The Chiefs started 1977 with an abysmal 1–6 record, featuring a 44–7 loss to the lowly Cleveland Browns. That humiliating defeat caused Lamar Hunt to make a move. Paul Wiggin was fired, and an assistant coach, Tom Bettis, was named the new head coach for the remainder of the year. The change in head coaches inspired the Chiefs to win their next game, a 20–10 victory over the Green Bay Packers, but for all intents and purposes, any hope of salvaging the 1977 season had already been lost. Kansas City finished that depressing year with a 2–12

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mark, which still stands as the least number of wins in a single season in team history. (Author’s note: In 2008 and in 2012, the Chiefs finished with a 2–14 record.) Sometimes, a player’s decision to retire comes about via a means of physicality. The human body can only take so many hits from another moving force. Some players try to play for longer than they should. Some men who have sustained injuries during their playing careers have suffered in their later years, with increasing pain in their knees and other joints. Lanier saw this happen to older veterans, and he knew that given the style of play he employed, a similar fate might await him. “You can play recklessly in this league because everybody is as big as you are,” Lanier admitted. “Over a period of time, however, if you attack everyone all out, you will wind up doing more damage to yourself than to anybody else.” 20 Before the 1977 season was over, both Willie Lanier and Jim Lynch felt that for better or for worse, their NFL careers were finally over. Neither man wanted to go into coaching, so they made a clean break from the game. It was a long and eventful journey for the two friends. They had survived the pro football wars and were eager for the next chapter in their lives. In Willie’s case, the lure of the Philip Morris company—along with his other future business ventures—was too enticing to delay his retirement any further. “As much as anything, it’s an economic situation,” explained Lanier. “At this point it’s a corporate situation with the opportunity for continued growth wherein I think has a long-term potential. As far as football is concerned, you have to look at how many seasons you have left, barring injuries.” 21 Lanier’s decision to hang up his padded helmet for good involved more than just choosing to avoid potential injuries and succeeding in the business world, however. It also came about with his willingness to accept new challenges fully and completely, just as he had accepted the challenge of giving his all to play pro football from 1967 to 1977. Lanier felt his business opportunities gave him a basic foundation for future success.

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“I want to put all my energies in this direction, and that is probably the biggest reason I’ve made the decision I have,” affirmed Lanier regarding his future with Philip Morris. I need to make a total involvement. Business has been a field I’ve always had great interest in, and now I have the opportunity to take an active role in that interest. When the Philip Morris people approached me and explained what they had in mind, I was immediately fascinated. I weighed my options after that and came to the decision that this was what I wanted to do. 22

As their final days on the pro football stage drew to a close, Willie Lanier and Jim Lynch reflected on their playing days, the good times and the bad, the men that they had worked for and with, and everything in between. Both men realized that to be true to themselves, they also had to be honest about everything they experienced in Kansas City. That included some bitter losses to go along with the exciting and memorable victories. Their retirement press conference featured the two men sitting side by side, just as they had lined up together on the gridiron for the past 11 years. These retiring warriors reminisced about their careers—and the inspiring friendship that had developed between them throughout the years. “I don’t feel leaving football is the hardest thing that I’ve had to do or will do,” Lanier insisted to members of the press. “Football is very temporary. You have to think of what you are going to be doing for yourself in the next five, 10 years while you’re playing. When you receive the opportunity to do something you want to do, I believe you have to accept it.” 23 Jim Lynch, who went on to become a full partner for a Kansas City brokerage firm following his retirement from pro football, was asked about his opinion of Willie Lanier. Lynch minced no words or sentiments when summarizing the guy who wore number 63 in red and gold and was his roommate on the road and best friend on the team. “Lanier used everything because he had everything,” Lynch explained. “There’s no question in my mind that he was as good or better

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than any middle linebacker who ever played the game. He had the smarts, the finesse, plus he had tremendous power. [Even] more strength than he realizes.” 24 Lynch also commented, “I consider him one of the finest gentlemen I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. He’s a decent person . . . a good person. And I believe those traits say more about the man than anything else.” 25 On December 11, 1977, Lanier and Lynch played in the final home game of their pro football careers against the Seattle Seahawks. That day the crowd at Arrowhead Stadium showed their appreciation to a couple of men who always gave the fans their best effort. Lanier and Lynch were announced together and ran out of the tunnel side by side, a symbol of their friendship. They received a standing ovation. It was a fitting tribute by the Kansas City faithful. The final game of their careers took place a week later at Oakland, on December 18, 1977. It was an appropriate location, considering all the grudge matches that these two AFL rivals participated in throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Kansas City played hard but fell to Oakland, 21–20. Willie Lanier’s last pro football game seemed insignificant and unimportant. It appeared that the fanfare of the moment did not measure up to what Lanier had experienced during the past 11 years. Perhaps that was due to the long stretch of time—six years—from the last year Lanier participated in a playoff game (1971) until his final game. Every player loves to go out on top, as a champion, regardless of the sport. In the end, it did not really matter how Lanier’s pro football career ended. The memories were not relegated to his first game or his last. Rather, it was the 200-plus games in between that mattered the most, and it was during those games that the Kansas City fans developed a lifelong bond with their favorite middle linebacker. Nevertheless, Lanier reverted to discussing the competition with Oakland. “It was always such an intense rivalry,” he said of the battles between the Raiders and Chiefs. “I was a little bit emotional in that final game, even though it didn’t mean anything in the final season standings. I tried not to get too carried away though.” 26

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Men who play pro football for a number of years can sometimes feel that the sport has carried them away, however. Many players consider the game to be an important part of themselves. Sometimes it becomes a function of who they are, inseparable from their individual personalities. When a man retires from the sport, he may feel he has cut a large piece out of his life, which is why facing retirement can be difficult for any pro athlete. Lanier experienced this firsthand. “There’s another level to the personality that can be exhibited when you perform in this sport,” he admitted. “When you retire, you have to take this part of you and remove it from yourself. You can’t use it anymore. That’s where I felt I had problems . . . removing that part of the personality that once was allowed to exhibit itself from July through December.” 27 Willie Lanier knew the sport was going to be hard to walk away from. But he also knew he was in a better physical and financial shape to walk away from it than many of his peers. That had to count for something. He had gotten used to playing football. Now he was going to have to get used to wearing a business suit and making a different kind of living for himself and his family. America’s trailblazing middle linebacker stayed calm and focused until the very end. He had finally retired from pro football, this time for good. Although there is no documentation of the occurrences, it was rumored that quarterbacks and offensive coordinators throughout the NFL held numerous parties when they heard the news.

10 A BUSINESS SUIT AND THE REAL WORLD

In January 1978, the time was at hand for Willie Lanier to blaze a new trail. It was not a completely unfamiliar section of land for him, however. He had learned about the many different subjects of the business world as a student at Morgan State University. He had also gotten his feet wet as a corporate employee during several months each year in the springs and summers of the mid-1970s. Lanier had a mind for finance, microeconomics, and macroeconomics, and such basic business tenets as supply and demand and cost–benefit analysis. During his 11 years as a member of the Kansas City Chiefs, he had given the fans and his employer their money’s worth. Now he would do the same for the Philip Morris agency and every future company he would become involved with. The business world was a perfect place for Lanier. There were many avenues for him to explore at this particular stage of his life, and it seemed that each one was more stimulating to him than the one before. True, it was tough to leave gainful employment in a sport he loved and had played successfully for years, but he knew he could not play football forever. Nonetheless, Lanier could make the transition into the business world better than most men, partly due to the training and experience he had gained while playing football. The sport taught him the value of such simple but important attributes as hard work, sacrifice, dedication, attention to detail, and so on. Football also gave Lanier a 183

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firm desire to win and be the best regardless of the task at hand. Willie Lanier was indeed ready to succeed as he traversed a new path in corporate America. Lanier did not wait until he retired to gain more business knowledge. While still playing for the Chiefs, he enrolled at the University of Missouri at Kansas City in an effort to obtain some graduate course credits. He sought continual self-improvement, and the betterment of his academic education spurred his success. There was also something quite selfless and magnanimous that stood out as one of his goals. Lanier was being driven by an opportunity to impact the social fabric of many different lives, to help people he did not even personally know. His new job at the Philip Morris agency offered him the chance to hire people who were searching for work and could perform well as employees, if someone gave them the opportunity. As it turned out, that someone was Willie Lanier. “It’ll have an impact on the economic situation for 200 to 250 people,” confirmed Lanier, explaining his hiring duties with the company. “Looking at unemployment figures in this country, it’s 6.5 percent now [in 1977]. It’s quite satisfying to know that you will be able to help people. That in itself is much more rewarding than playing football.” 1 Lanier firmly believes that there is a special dignity and rewarding sense of purpose that comes with doing a decent job. Gainful employment has always given people pride. People who work for a living become acquainted with the belief that they are doing something positive with their lives. Willie Lanier was igniting future hope and more obtainable success for many U.S. citizens. If Willie Lanier was not well known by the time he made his last tackle on the gridiron, he was quickly earning notoriety as a business executive. Employees at Philip Morris gathered throughout the corporate offices, informing one another that the greatest middle linebacker in pro football history was working in an office down the hall. Almost overnight, Lanier became one of the most popular employees in the company’s history.

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Fame comes with a price, however. Lanier knew some people might believe he had only gotten his position at Philip Morris because of his accomplishments on the football field. He was going to have to prove his worth to the company, just as he had to prove his worth to the Kansas City Chiefs in his first pro training camp in 1967. Lanier wanted to earn his keep, regardless the company or business for which he punched the time clock. Lanier is a leader who possesses a strong vision of reality. He knows some things are much more important than others; therefore, he never made himself out to be something or someone more important than what he felt he was. That type of introspection and humility are rare in today’s working environment. But, for Willie Lanier, being realistic with oneself serves as a strong foundation for acquiring knowledge. “You have to keep your perspective,” he once explained. I got a lot of recognition [while playing football]. I was all this and all that. I enjoyed it. But what does it really mean? I was successful as a football player, but how important is that when you compare it to a space shot? Or compare it to the president trying to make his wageprice policy work? You have to be realistic. Basically, all I did [while playing football] is entertain people. 2

Lanier knew the bottom line of the sales he brought into the companies he worked for would be the key to his future success. An important part of many successful business enterprises involves promotional activities. That was an area where Lanier could employ name recognition, which was a good kick-start for his success. “Of course, the fact that I was a well-known football player is something that you can’t get away from,” said Lanier, But it’s still a matter of selling yourself and your product. As far as sales are concerned, you’ve got to have the opportunity to tell your story, and, fortunately, football and my position with the Chiefs have given me such an advantage. I know it would be much more difficult going into this [sales] field if I didn’t have the name, but what mat-

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ters most is that I do have the reputation, and it is up to me to capitalize on it. 3

He further commented, “Brand recognition is important. I still have my name up in the stadium. It’s a form of advertising that you don’t have to fund. I travel a lot, and people know about the Chiefs.” 4 Said Lanier, “I think that the aspect of being a football player can help you get your foot in the door, so to speak, but you’ve got to be able to do the job once you’ve received the opportunity to sell your product.” 5 He also stated, “There is an advantage in being who I am, because people know me. But even so, I’m not going to be successful unless I work as hard or harder than the other guys.” 6 On another occasion, Lanier declared, We were individuals who happened to play football. We took our education, training, and knowledge, and did things at the same time we played football. That’s what other students with business degrees were doing. I didn’t see any reason why I should be any different. Now, football players seem to put academics on hold and concentrate only on the game. We tried to sell all our skills to accomplish as much as we could. I played intelligently. I tried to always be in a position where you don’t have to make a bad decision. 7

Being on the board of directors amid a bevy of other business executives was not really on Lanier’s radar in 1978. He was still learning and growing in the corporate world. The basic theories and practices of business evolved throughout time for him. To break out of his shell even further, Lanier did not stay at the Philip Morris company. He received offers from other companies and judiciously researched each one. As the years passed by, he worked as a stockbroker for First Union Securities, where he also served as a vice chairman. He also spent time as CEO of TDS/US, the minority venture partner of TDS Logistics (now known as Syncreon). In addition, Lanier became a board member of TDS Automotive, the minority-owned branch of TDS Logistics. The list of credentials continued, with Lanier becoming a registered representative for the Wall Street firm of Paine,

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Webber, Jackson, and Curtis, and a senior advisor for Cary Street Partners, where he worked in conjunction with the Lanier Group, LLC, in Richmond, Virginia. He also became a licensed real estate broker in both Kansas and Missouri. “I developed a career in both real estate and finance,” said Lanier, who would not relegate himself to any one area of the country. “I have set certain educational goals for myself wherein I might obtain the necessary knowledge to advance further in these fields. I think that the securities industry is of such a nature that one is judged on individual merit and factors of performance.” 8 Willie Lanier soon became a master of the twin towers of American progress—economics and capitalism. “I am close with a buck,” Lanier admitted. “I enjoy saving money. I do not enjoy spending it just to spend it.” 9 Getting other people to spend their money on whatever he was selling was Lanier’s most pertinent goal in the business environments he found himself in. And if you think he was only successful when dealing with other African Americans, think again. “The black question is really one that I cannot answer, other than the fact that while I worked for a land company, most of the people I sold to were white,” admitted Lanier. “Using that as a guideline, I don’t really feel that there is any particular stigma, other than the fact that I knew my product well and did a good job in selling that particular area.” 10 He also said, I make personal appearances and speeches on a nonfee basis, so that I might be able to assist various youth organizations, because I feel that this is something that I should do for the younger people who want to get started in sports and want to meet ballplayers but wouldn’t ordinarily have the opportunity to do so. 11

The Kansas City Chiefs have yet to duplicate the success of 1969, when they won Super Bowl IV. Despite their best efforts, Lanier and his teammates never won another postseason game in the 1970s. Lanier did not want to experience another such occurrence while wearing a

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business suit. To ensure that he stayed on top once he got there, he continued to work hard in his business endeavors. Even so, he continued to help members of the community. This outlook helped make him the NFL’s Man of the Year in 1972, and it helped him become a celebrated executive following his football days. “It is my feeling that my talents lie more in gaining the knowledge to develop my own business sense,” Lanier explained, so that I can go back and relate to the people and make them aware of what is available and what means can be employed, so that they too might be better able to participate in the economic mainstream. This goes back to the principle of making information available so that other people might be able to utilize their talents. I’ve always felt that I should get myself in a position so that I can help other people, and in order that I might be more effective, I’ve got to know what’s going on before I can tell other people what’s available. 12

Lanier knew what was going on in football after his retirement. Football players at every level—from elementary school to the professional ranks—have suffered from concussions for years. But more people are talking about it these days, as the issue of concussions has garnered more publicity and media scrutiny. In the past decade, dozens of former players have joined Willie Lanier in exploring and confronting the issue in an effort to reduce the number of head injuries. Lanier stands out as an important spokesman in addressing this particular issue, as he himself suffered a concussion in 1967 that almost ended his pro football career (see chapter 2). In 2012, Lanier attended a brain injury forum to address the particulars of how concussions can harm athletes long after their playing days are over. He has been one of several former NFL players to speak out about the problem in recent years. In 2017, former New York Giants Hall of Fame linebacker Harry Carson commented, “Every parent should be informed. They should be informed as to what risks they are subjecting their kids to. Understand that your child could be subject to a neurological injury that could affect them for the rest of their lives.” 13

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The ultimate goal of former pro players like Lanier and Carson is not to strike fear in the hearts and minds of parents throughout this football-loving nation. Rather, it is to inform those who love the sport about what could happen if certain rule changes are not addressed, pondered, discussed, and possibly acted upon. In his true trailblazing fashion, Lanier is also one of several former players to support the production and distribution of more modern helmets. Just as he decided to wear a modified helmet in Kansas City to protect his own head, Lanier believes modern science can and should be used to help protect today’s players as much as possible. He also believes that scientific knowledge should be applied in a timely manner in the advancement, production, and distribution of more reliable, safer helmets. As the years have passed, Lanier’s increasing knowledge has paid off for himself, his wife, his kids, and his community. He eventually settled in his home state of Virginia, proving you can go home again and return to your roots after finding success. Yet, his mindset has remained unchanged throughout time. Willie Lanier is a lifelong learner. He rarely passes up an opportunity to learn something that might help him in the business world. He was like that as a student at Morgan State University, and he is still like that today. “I’m interested in continuing to inform myself from a knowledge standpoint and secure a hedge against the future, so that I’ll know what to do and when to do it,” he said in 1972. Knowledge is most important in both areas of the business world in which I am interested. You’ve got to have a continuing program of attaining information in both the securities field, as well as real estate. It will be up to me to utilize [my] credentials properly, and I’m going to do so through a continuous program of being informed. 14

Willie Lanier has also continued to give back more than just knowledge to the various communities in Virginia he now calls home, and to his long-standing fan bases in Missouri and Kansas. Moreover, in recent years he has donated money to his alma mater. Every college asks their graduates to be generous as alumni, hoping that future generations of

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leaders can benefit from the gifts of those who walked the same hallways a generation or more before. Willie Lanier is a loyal man. He remains true to his school and his past. He realizes that his youthful years and experiences in the 1960s helped to shape him into the man he eventually became. This, of course, is true for every person in society. Lanier felt an obligation to help those at Morgan State who were planning to earn a business degree, much as he had done. In 2015, Lanier donated $500,000 to Morgan State to establish the Willie E. Lanier Sr. Endowed Lectureship in Business Ethics in the Earl G. Graves School of Business and Management. The lectureships have provided a two-year award for supplemental financial assistance in the field of researching business ethics. It was a generous gift to reward the graduates of tomorrow. “Life provides you with opportunities to reflect upon the values and principles that have come to define who you are and allows you the space to determine what is important,” explained Lanier. I attended Morgan for the education and to cultivate a relationship with the university. Athletics provided the means for my education. Committing to this lectureship allows me to build upon the things I learned as a student in the business school and make a positive contribution to an area that touches all aspects of what we do in life— ethics. 15

Naturally, Morgan State was grateful for Lanier’s generosity. It remains the hope of everyone involved that those who receive the gift will one day become givers themselves. They call such actions “paying it forward.” “This endowment is a testament to Mr. Lanier’s commitment to academic excellence in the area of business, and we are very fortunate to be the recipients of his generosity,” said Dr. Fikru Boghossian, dean of the Morgan State School of Business and Management. “Faculty members will be able to use this endowment to support the study of business ethics, further demonstrating Morgan’s dedication to ethical practices and strengthening its reputation for ethics scholarship.” 16

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Lanier’s gift strengthened his connection to Morgan State. Colleges like to showcase the success stories of their former students. By publicly honoring the accomplishments of a former walk-on middle linebacker, the school conveys to students the most important lesson it can teach: With hard work and dedication, they too can become successful, just like Willie Lanier. “Willie Lanier provides an exceptional example of how Morgan State University graduates continue to make great contributions in their postcollegiate careers, while also recognizing and supporting the foundation of their success,” said Morgan State University president David Wilson at the announcement celebration. “With this half-million-dollar endowment, Morgan will be able to expand upon the efforts of our School of Business and Management to cultivate a climate of ethical business practices in boardrooms across America.” 17 The financial gift to his college honored his school and also highlighted his love for his new careers in business, finance, real estate, and so on. But another honor he himself received in 1986 would reconnect Willie Lanier with some fond and glorious memories of his past.

11 THE PRO FOOTBALL HALL OF FAME

Willie Lanier received a unique telephone call on January 28, 1986. It was a phone call only 129 other men in the entire world had ever received. Lanier was being awarded the greatest individual honor professional football has to offer. He was being enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Being so honored validated what he had done while playing for the Kansas City Chiefs. A brief list of some of his achievements from 1967 to 1977 is quite impressive, to say the least. They include the following (in no particular order): All-AFL team, 1968, 1969; All-Pro team, 1970–1975; one of the top 75 players to play pro football (in honor of the NFL’s 75th anniversary); NFL Man of the Year, 1972; missing only one game due to injury after his rookie year; AFL All-Star Game, 1968, 1969; Pro Bowl, 1970–1975 (Defensive Most Valuable Player, 1972); Chiefs Hall of Fame, 1985; Virginia Sports Hall of Fame, 1986; first African American to start as a middle linebacker in pro football history; 18 fumbles recovered; 27 intercepted passes during his regular-season career. The number of interceptions is astounding, considering that pro offenses employed many more running plays than passing plays during Lanier’s years in pro football. “The point was that it wasn’t an accident!” Lanier exclaimed while contemplating his accomplishment.

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It was one of those things that you, at times, would get some balls that might’ve been batted and you were able to have a chance to intercept them. But it was one of really trying to think through the offense of what was being done and then trying to position yourself to do it. I was really happy that over the years that I played, if my memory is correct, I was only beaten once for a touchdown. And I would cover receivers man-for-man all over the field. Especially if we would have a tight end up the seam, if that were the case, or straight up the field. I was able to intercept a few balls off of tight ends maybe 20 or 30 yards downfield, because of having the coverage abilities. 1

The films bear this out. If you watch highlights of Lanier during his pro football career, you can easily see him drift back on passing plays into defensive coverages that were often deep downfield. Moreover, in some instances Lanier is visible covering wide receivers on deep corner routes, where, even today, few middle linebackers are expected to cover. Nevertheless, on occasion, opposing quarterbacks felt they could still throw the ball over Lanier’s head. That decision was often foolhardy. “Knowledge is what puts you in a position to make an interception, not height,” explained Lanier. If you read the play quickly, you will retreat into the right area. Suppose a curl pattern is being run 15 yards deep. I don’t have to be 15 yards deep to stop it. Ten yards deep is enough. The quarterback must throw it over my head at 10 yards, and if he does, it will be over the head of the receiver too. 2

Lanier also commented, I took a lot of pride in reducing a mental error. One place that I really worked on that was reducing it to the point of penalties. I think I can look back over the years that I played, and I believe there was only five penalties that I had in 11 years . . . and that’s for anything. So my view was that it was important to reduce [the mistakes] defensively, because you give your opponent an opportunity to have the

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ball one more time. And that one more time of having the ball can easily be the difference between winning and losing. 3

It was more than just playing a mistake-free game that lifted Lanier to a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, however. Much more, in fact. He could also change the course of a game with his willingness to hit his opponents with a force that no runner, quarterback, or receiver would ever forget. Oftentimes, a football player will earn the utmost respect among his peers by the simple but straightforward act of knocking the snot out of an opponent. Willie Lanier inflicted such hits on many occasions, and it was a sight to behold. Sometimes, one could even hear the concussive force of his hits while watching the game on television. “I always played a physical game,” Lanier once admitted. I’m intense on the field. Sometimes after a game I can’t even remember what I said and did during the game. But the main thing I worried about was being overly aggressive. There’s a fine line there. Being too aggressive can hurt you and your team, as far as penalties are concerned. You have to become a little wild and crazy . . . but not too much. 4

Football is a violent game, and there is no use in refining it. The men who play it accept the nature of the sport and the risks that come with playing it. Willie Lanier accepted the risks. It is only fair that he accepts the honors. Only a small portion of college football players make it to the NFL. Fewer still are the men who play the game well enough to earn a bronze bust and a gold jacket at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. Willie Lanier had reached the pinnacle of success in the most competitive game America has to offer. The Pro Football Hall of Fame is a place where his legacy and legend can be told for many generations to come, inside a building that celebrates and honors a multitude of legendary gridiron achievements. But Lanier’s induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame might never have happened had he not come to the realization that the violence of pro football had its own agenda—to do harm to the bodies of

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those who played the game. A player hit by Lanier during his rookie year, in 1967, would have felt the solid blast of an explosion, and they might have staggered trying to return to their upright stance. After 1967, however, Lanier’s decision to employ a shoulders-first style of tackling actually helped prolong his career, which, in the end, may have indirectly led to his enshrinement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Willie Lanier’s immediate feeling upon receiving that phone call from the folks in Canton was, naturally, one of euphoria and excitement. Soon afterward, however, his analytical side emerged, just as you would expect, and he closely examined his feelings about being given the honor. Even to this day, he still thinks about it. “Well I think when you’re first elected you’re just overjoyed just to be recognized with the honor,” said Lanier. “[I was] blessed to have the opportunity to stand on the steps and to acknowledge those who’ve come for your induction.” 5 Almost every Hall of Famer in his acceptance speech mentions and thanks those who have been influential in their lives, and Willie Lanier was no different. He expressed his thanks to Hank Stram, who took a chance on him in the 1967 pro football draft, and linebackers coach Tom Bettis, whose tutelage helped to refine his techniques throughout the years. But before Lanier could thank the many people in his life as he stood on the front steps of Canton’s prestigious Hall of Fame building, he had to pick a person to present him to the viewing public. His choice took both he and his presenter back to their individual and collective pasts, to the summer of 1972, in fact. On July 29, 1972, the Kansas City Chiefs defeated the New York Giants, 23–17, in the NFL’s annual Hall of Fame Game at Fawcett Stadium, right across the street from where just a few hours before kickoff, Lamar Hunt became the first man from the AFL to be enshrined in the Hall. Willie Lanier played in the game that followed one of the greatest moments in Hunt’s extraordinary life. Fourteen years later, Hunt and Lanier partnered up again in Canton.

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“One of the most important decisions that those of us who have the opportunity to be inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame is that you have to decide who is your presenter,” explained Lanier. As I tried to think through that decision and appreciate the individual who had, I think I would call it the breath of those things that were important to me in my professional life. Then extending it to references that I had seen in terms of how that person dealt with other issues, that clarified in my mind. The whole business aspect of the pioneer of what he had done to create the AFL, and without those circumstances, well again, my view is that we might not have a need for this concern or discussion. 6

Willie Lanier chose Chiefs owner Lamar Hunt to be his presenter, and his choice was a good one. Both men had a natural love for football. Moreover, it was Lanier who helped the Chiefs win a world championship in Super Bowl IV. When Hunt held the championship trophy aloft in the locker room following that glorious afternoon of January 11, 1970, in New Orleans, it was the culmination of everything he had hoped for when he began the fledgling AFL. It was the climax of his team’s most glorious season, and it was a moment both men could look back on with a sense of accomplishment and collective pride. Both men also had a love for business, and both were personable. Hunt was a famous oil man from Texas, and he had become a billionaire in that field. But he was also a very friendly, warm, and affable man. If you saw him cutting the grass on his front lawn—which he did in plain view of his neighbors—you probably would mistake him for a common, middle-class husband and father. Perhaps that was the secret to his genuineness. He was a simple and unassuming man who was also humble in his approach toward everyone. Willie Lanier could not help but be impressed by how Lamar Hunt dealt with people from all walks of life. It was easy to be affected by Hunt. But it was also easy to be impressed by the young man who gave his sweat and heart to Hunt’s team for 11 years and who, in 1986, reached the Mount Everest of pro football honors. Hunt was honored

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to accept Lanier’s request to be his presenter, and he did so with the business insightfulness that was one of his trademarks. “My thoughts were crystallized with my calling and asking, and having a joy when he acknowledged to do that,” said Lanier. Well the detail aspect of Lamar Hunt is that when he’s asked to do something, he’s going to research it. He’s not going to just offer an extemporaneous point, because that’s not Lamar. He tends to like to define it. Get information about it. As people have talked over the years, they received notes or little letters [from him], or notes from all over the world, [stating] different thoughts that he might have. So since I attended Maggie Walker High School in Richmond, Virginia, and Maggie Walker was the first black female bank president in the United States, he researched that and coupled that into [his] speech. And coupled that with the fact that since I was in the investment business, that was reasonable because when I attended the high school, they had the first black bank president in this country. So it was really a lot of fun for me to see the references and the detail that was going to be a part of his comments and the kind of joy that we appreciated in terms of the [Hall of Fame] selection, because Lamar is a wonderful person. 7

Willie Lanier blazed a trail in the NFL to be honored as the first African American middle linebacker in the pro game. To many people, however, it did not matter what color his skin was. What mattered was that he played the position of middle linebacker better than anyone else. The Kansas City Chiefs organization certainly thought so. They retired Lanier’s legendary number 63 after his playing days were over. And in 1986, Lanier blazed a trail to Canton, Ohio, to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Time has given much introspection to Lanier when thinking about his enshrinement in the summer of 1986. He has had the opportunity to ponder everything that has happened since his grand day—what is annually called “Pro Football’s Greatest Weekend.” His thoughts have included everything from his leadership roles, to his own performances,

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to reminiscing about the honor of playing the game alongside of some of pro football’s greatest players. “It was a very important part of my life,” admitted Lanier many years later. 8 He also stated, But as time goes on, you really want to be, if I would call it, the standard-bearer for the new inductees. So they can then appreciate what you appreciated. That makes it different. That makes it special. If you’re able to do that, then you give credit to yourself, your team, those members who are currently in [the Hall of Fame], and those members that are coming. I think because of that, as time goes on, you do embrace much more greatly that which is the essence of the Hall of Fame. 9

Lanier recently said, I moderated the Ray Nitschke Memorial Luncheon for a number of years. And I would have the mic and I would go around and ask some of the other Hall of Famers [about what it means to be a Hall of Famer], and I left them with a continual thought. So that’s what Dick Butkus meant to me, because for me, Butkus was a target when I came into the league. Because he was the cream of the middle linebackers. So I said to Dick, and I said to the group that was there, that they know how to look around that room for all of the Hall of Famers welcoming the new class, and we will see someone that gave us the idea that we could also be there. And I acknowledged Butkus for the fact that he set the bar and gave me a target. And I offered him the mic to offer his comments to the group. But that’s the way it is in sports . . . it’s the way it is in everything. And I think that it’s an outstanding benefit from those of us who play a sport to be able to tell those other people, “Thank you.” Because they didn’t know it at the time, that they were actually giving you a way to become one of them. 10

Becoming one of many is the foundation of every team. It is the foundation of our armed forces. It is the foundation of the individual states comprising the United States. The game of pro football is first

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and foremost, a team game, and that will always be the case. When word was announced that Lanier had been elected to the Hall of Fame, his former coaches and teammates were overjoyed. Fellow Chiefs linebacker Jim Lynch knew Lanier was destined for something great early in their respective pro football careers. He also knew there was a specific position on defense Lanier should be playing. “I made that decision within the first 10 minutes of the first practice of training camp of our rookie year, [that] Lanier was made for the middle linebacker position,” Lynch recalled. “There was never any rivalry between Lanier and me—never any problem with our difference in color or school background. We focused on the belief both of us would play a lot of football with the Kansas City Chiefs.” 11 Kansas City head coach Hank Stram drafted Willie Lanier to shore up a deficiency his team had at the middle linebacker position. Lanier turned out to be a gem of a pick and an answer to many of Stram’s prayers for his defense. “Great linebackers combine all the necessary physical attributes,” admitted Stram upon hearing of Lanier’s selection to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Willie had the great strength and was quick to the ball, and had the speed to get outside. He had excellent leverage with his body, making him an excellent open-field tackler. Plus he was very bright. He understood not only his position, but the entire defensive philosophy. He called the plays on the field. He saw things developing. He didn’t win the position of middle linebacker . . . he came with a deed to the property. 12

The Chiefs were, of course, property of Lamar Hunt, and in putting together notes on his team’s former middle linebacker for his Hall of Fame speech, Hunt harkened back to what he saw Lanier do on a regular basis on the football field. “There were so many times when you would see a ballcarrier enter the middle of the line and just stop,” Hunt recalled. “When the smoke

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would clear, so to speak, there would be Willie pulling himself off of the guy.” 13 Former Chiefs public relations director and current team historian Bob Moore had the opportunity to watch every play of Willie Lanier’s career. When questioned about Lanier, he discussed not so much his deeds on the field but rather his accomplishments off of it. “I would say that Lanier is an example that the National Football League holds up as a routine of a perfect situation for a retired player,” said Moore. He goes on to have a professional career, he’s well spoken, he presents a wonderful picture of what an ex-NFL player can be, who’s thinking ahead of what his career would be. I think that’s why he was on the Commissioner’s Advisory Committee or whatever they call that now. They [the NFL] are going to hold Willie up to just about anybody, you know what I mean? I don’t think that there’s any doubt that he’s an example that the league would really want [in a retired player]. Lanier has poise, class, a good business sense. He’s very rare. But that’s what I think he stands up to . . . in so many people’s eyes. He’s what the NFL would like to see in all players’ post-football careers. 14

When a Hall of Fame player visits the historic shrine to the game, the aura of his accomplishments inevitably overtakes him, knowing that he is in a special fraternity. But these men will all agree that they stand in the enshrinement gallery thanks, in large part, to the hard work and sacrifices of their teammates throughout the years. “It [being a member of the Chiefs] brought into focus how much it meant to have a chance to play with such quality people,” Lanier said. To forever be a part of that kind of relationship and have those ties— it’s hard to explain how much that means. There are very few things you put yourself into where other people are so closely involved. As individuals, I think we tend to be closed to others, but because of the nature of the sport, you let your teammates see inside you. Being named to the Hall of Fame takes you back to your true beginnings. 15

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At the beginning of his career in Kansas City, his intent was to just make the team. Lanier then focused his attention on becoming the team’s starting middle linebacker. It was a step-by-step progression, much like building a house. No one builds an attic before they build a basement. Similarly, Lanier’s thoughts about being gifted the sport’s ultimate individual honor—Hall of Fame enshrinement—did not even enter his mind in his rookie year. “I didn’t play each game, each season, with a long-term view of the Pro Football Hall of Fame,” admitted Lanier. 16 “I played to be very consistent from week to week . . . to play as best as I could to help the team win as you went through season to season.” 17 He added, I was near-term in trying to win the game, trying to win a division title, and trying to win or get to the playoffs. If I was fortunate, I played well enough to get to the Pro Bowl. The Hall of Fame was not something that ever entered my mind during the time I was playing. I wasn’t playing for that. I was playing for all these other purposes. The call [from the Hall of Fame] came during my third year of eligibility. It’s an overwhelming “Thank You God,” because I had been granted the opportunity to play long enough . . . because you need longevity, with a quality team that had some success and very few injuries. It’s a very special moment and one that you never forget, because of the clarity of it. 18

The enormity of being enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame truly hit Willie Lanier when he first put on his gold Hall of Fame jacket and held his bronze bust, seeing his likeness staring back at him. It added a special touch to the unforgettable event. As he walked up the front steps of the Hall’s exhibition rotunda and peered out at the crowd of thousands of family, friends, and fans that had gathered, the grandeur of the moment became evident. “Everything that you feel is a once-in-a-moment, first-time feeling, because you never experienced this before,” explained Lanier. You can only feel it once, because you can only be elected once. You can only be inducted once. You can only sense all that this is that first

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time. Then you are able to step back and start to appreciate it. Because you could not have prepared for something that you had not been able to attain, feel, or sense before. It truly is a once-in-alifetime feeling. 19

Lamar Hunt stood at the Hall of Fame podium on August 2, 1986, and began talking about a little-known linebacker from Clover, Virginia. Hunt’s speech focused on the fact that Lanier was only the 11th linebacker to make the Hall of Fame. One of those linebackers was teammate Bobby Bell, which lent plenty of credence to the fact that the Chiefs defense of 1969 was one of the greatest in pro football history. (Author’s note: Today, an incredible six defensive players from that 1969 Chiefs team are members of the Pro Football Hall of Fame, including nose tackle Curley Culp, defensive tackle Buck Buchanan, cornerback Emmitt Thomas, safety Johnny Robinson, Bell, and Lanier.) Hunt then briefly described Lanier as he was growing up in Richmond, during his college years at Morgan State University, and his signature moment during the famous goal-line stand versus the New York Jets in the 1969 AFL divisional playoffs. In between these instances, Hunt recalled some of the attributes that made Lanier a great middle linebacker. “To say that Willie was a sleeper was an understatement,” Hunt declared. Once Hank [Stram] saw Jim Lynch and Willie in training camp, he decided that both of them should play, and he moved Lynch to the outside and Lanier was to play his middle position . . . as a forceful bear of a man whose strength and intensity and striking power set new standards for the game. Today, he takes his place—his rightful place—as a linebacker for the ages. 20

Finally, the honoree got the chance to embrace his presenter and deliver his own speech. As expected, Willie Lanier was both businesslike and professional. He used this forum to thank many different people and offer a message to America’s youth.

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“I was in the parade this morning, and the response we got here in Canton was the greatest I have ever seen in my life,” Lanier said. To see the outpouring of respect and emotion, and everyone trying to make it better for you on this particular day . . . that will be with all of us [Lanier and his family] for the rest of our lives. . . . I think it is important for all young people to try to make decisions that would affect their lives in the future, that they recognize that these kinds of events (a Hall of Fame enshrinement, for example) are possible for all of you out there regardless of background [or] circumstances. I would like to thank everyone who has attended today, and this has been and will always be one of the greatest moments I will ever remember. Thank you. 21

And with that, amid the cheers and applause from the assembled crowd, the bust of Willie Lanier made its way into the enshrinement gallery inside its new home in Canton, Ohio, forever.

Conclusion FINAL MUSINGS FROM A TRAILBLAZER

Willie Lanier is a blessed man. In his more than 70 years of living, he has survived the ups and downs of many different experiences. He has taken some hits, as we all do and as we all must. And just like us, he has retained his individuality. But there is an aura about Willie Lanier that unmistakably and visibly stands out. It speaks of hard-earned success. But it also speaks of trials that were overcome and how knowledge and obtaining knowledge is its own reward. You cannot look at Willie Lanier today without being overcome with respect for him. He has earned that respect, and not just on the football field. That respect also comes from hundreds of people in the business world and the people whose lives he has touched in various communities throughout the nation. Willie’s story is one of grit and determination. He developed an understanding of how one can become successful in several different walks of life, and with every little and big moment, that solemn understanding grew exponentially in his mind and heart. He exudes confidence and poise, and when he walks into a room, he is impossible to ignore. He is Willie Lanier, after all—the greatest middle linebacker in pro football history and one whose story needs to be celebrated even more today, long after his playing days have ended. But what is more, Lanier is understanding of others. He is a man who has seen the world from many different viewpoints and perceptions, and he has given legitimate and profound credence to them all. 205

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He is an opinionated man, and his opinions are representative of the education he has received and the life he has lived. This conclusion is a conversation of sorts with Lanier on many divergent subjects. Author Frank Ross once wrote, “The best way to show the depth of Lanier’s personality is to allow the man to speak for himself.” 1 One measure of any person’s knowledge involves how well versed they are when discussing a variety of subjects. Lanier is just as comfortable talking about the 4–3 defense as he is discussing the latest stock market trends. His versatility regarding different topics is seemingly only surpassed by the strength of his opinions regarding the particular field of discussion at hand. Since most people know Willie Lanier thanks to his football career, that seemed to be the logical place to start interpreting the man. In many respects, Willie Lanier was always an underdog. He attended Morgan State University, a college that was not nationally known in the 1960s, and even though he was drafted by the Kansas City Chiefs in the second round of the 1967 collegiate player draft, he showed up in Missouri with little—if any—fanfare. “Those [scouts] who evaluated me never thought I was as good as I thought I was,” explained Lanier. You see, I came into pro football with a heckuva purpose. I looked upon it as a helluva challenge to prove something. Being the first black middle linebacker in the pros placed me in that unusual position. I didn’t put myself there . . . it was another factor in the scheme of things. With the ethnic situation in our society, blacks sometimes are forced into a position of being the first this and the first that, and I think a little bit unfairly, because then you feel you can’t have the potential of error. You’re supposed to be flawless. I think I was probably more intense my first four or five years than most people would be. I was trying to get something done. After I made All-Pro, I figured I had done what I set out to get done. I suppose I lost a little intensity after that. 2

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If such was the case, it was hardly discernable to opposing players and coaches. Those men who played against Lanier during the 1970s have nothing but praise for him. Floyd Little, the Hall of Fame halfback from the Denver Broncos, described his many encounters while carrying a football against the Kansas City defense. “I have never been hit harder more times than by those three [Chiefs linebackers Lanier, Bobby Bell, and Jim Lynch],” recalled Little. “But I’ll tell you something. They had so much class it was unbelievable. They’d crush you with a tackle, then help you up with a pat on the rear. After the game they’d shake your hand, sincere and with respect. Class. Every time we played them. Just plain class.” 3 This class—or, perhaps, verbal dignity, if you will—can be heard when listening to Willie Lanier. That may be attributed to his wisdom, gleaned throughout the years from so many different experiences. Lanier is a gifted public speaker. Anyone who has listened to him can attest to that. “I decided that if I ever got into professional sports or public speaking, I would represent myself and my people well,” Lanier explained. After watching athletes on television interviews a lot of times, black athletes, primarily, at times would leave a lot to be desired in their speech patterns, knowledge of the language, and their intellect. General audiences would look at a player who might have problems in talking or stuttering and say, “They [African American athletes] are all like that.” I never took a speech course in college, but I decided that if I got into [the public eye], they would never be able to say that about me. 4

Goals are admirable things to have, and for Willie Lanier, reaching for and obtaining them had an important place in the grand scheme of his life and career, both as a pro football player and as a businessman. He knew each goal and each accomplishment was a piece to a puzzle and that throughout time he would see the shape, design, and image fill in and be completed. But make no mistake, Lanier is not done with

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solving the puzzles in his life. There is still much more for him to figure out. “I consider everything to be stepping-stones,” described Lanier. People change as situations change, as life changes. The more things you get involved in, the more things you know about. It’s just preparing yourself for situations and opportunities that might exist. I think the more prepared you are, the more people will recognize you for your business ability or your knowledge. When you’re younger, you really don’t know what your plans are. The only thing that you can do is try to develop yourself to be prepared for any situation that might come up. 5

Young people naturally learn a lot from their elders. Lanier has a soft spot in his heart for kids, being a father himself. He has spoken to youth groups throughout the United States, and his message is simple, especially when discussing the one big scourge and downfall of many innercity youngsters—the lure of drugs. “I think that drugs are one of the worst things that could happen to a potential genius or a mind of someone who could offer a lot to society,” he declared. “To have this person destroyed because of drugs . . . there isn’t enough said about it. It’s something I feel I’ll always say to any group, all of the time.” 6 Much can be said about how pride can inspire a person to accomplish great things. On the football field, Lanier’s pride showed as he played up to his full potential, regardless of the situation or whether he was on a winning or losing team. “Heck, ego drives everyone,” Lanier admitted, “no matter what walk of life they are in. You have to be careful that your ego doesn’t distort the whole picture of your outlook.” 7 He further commented, “Initially, I was looking for recognition, just like anyone. It’s a natural desire for anyone to want to prove he can play with the best.” 8 Willie Lanier had more to prove on autumn and winter Sundays than what met the eye, however. He also had the weight—unfairly or

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not—of the judgmental prejudices that had been placed upon his shoulders. “As far as the pressure of being the first middle linebacker who happened to be black, well there was quite a bit of it in my rookie year,” Lanier said. It was an individual thing that made me approach the situation from the standpoint that I was the first, and therefore how I did would either help others to play the position, or, if I didn’t make it, well, then maybe it would be a while before someone else got the opportunity. It was a case of, “What is it? What do you have to do? Are you setting the stage for other black ballplayers who would like to be middle linebackers?” And, consequently, there was pressure. “Are you gonna get a fair shake? Will the opportunity be there?” Fortunately, I did get that opportunity. 9

Kansas City’s operational statement of purpose during the years Hank Stram presided over the team as head coach was simply to win football games. Period. Anything that might stand in the way of that goal was either eliminated or discarded. It was in Stram’s frame of mind to ignore the prejudices of the late 1960s and early 1970s, and put the best players he had on the field, regardless of skin color. “Obviously,” explained Lanier, this kind of atmosphere and philosophy has to be something that filters down from the top of the organization, where Stram has, through a great deal of effort, attempted to stem the tides of discrimination and racial problems that can occur and, in fact, have occurred on other ballclubs. He has had the knowledge and foresight to be aware of that, and he has worked to overcome and eliminate such factors. Evidently, he has been able to do these things very well. 10

More weight is added to Lanier’s place in pro football history as the sport’s first African American middle linebacker because of one important reason: He succeeded. The job and its challenges proved to be not too great or too difficult for him. He overcame the stereotypes of that

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era in a way that, in many minds, has made him the greatest middle linebacker in pro football history. “It was not my plan [being the first African American middle linebacker in pro football],” admitted Lanier. All I was trying to do was to have a team that was not conscious of race and would give me an opportunity truly to have a chance to play. But it was important to me to show excellence at all times, because all of those stereotypes that happened to have existed then, and unfortunately sometimes they exist now, were ones that you had to have a way to break them down. I didn’t enjoy being called a football player . . . I was a college graduate. And I knew that was what I was standing on. I was a college graduate who happened to play football. And it was always important for me for that difference to be separated, because this is not who you are. But you had the ability to create an example. Or anytime that you are interviewed, I know that it’s important for people to understand that you are an educated person. I’m a college graduate . . . and that’s what had to be known. I played a sport, but you do not go to school to get a degree in football. I got a degree in business administration. So that always was the important part of sport . . . the important part of playing. But then to play it [football] at a high enough level, that whoever might not have allowed someone who looked like you to play it before, to realize that they had made a grave mistake, because you can play well. And then to go from being the first African American middle linebacker to go to Canton, Ohio . . . just added to the story. 11

Hank Stram had given Willie Lanier a legitimate chance to start for the Chiefs, beginning in his rookie season. Stram trusted Lanier enough to give him that chance because Lanier earned that opportunity. He was hitting opposing running backs harder than many onlookers had ever seen a linebacker hit a ballcarrier. There was simply no legitimate reason for Lanier not to be Kansas City’s starting middle linebacker. “I look at opportunity from the standpoint of commitment,” said Lanier.

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In the past, other teams had offered token opportunism in that they would bring a brother in and say, “We’ll give him a quick look, but it doesn’t really matter how he performs, because he isn’t gonna play there anyhow.” You really aren’t offering the person anything until you give players the true clear-cut position that they’ll compete as equals, and whomever wins out will play. 12

Lanier also said, “There are inequities in pro football, but you have to realize that they are no better or no worse than they are in society.” 13 But Lanier also felt that the best elements of football represented all that was good in the nation, where men from every race and creed could join together to battle an opponent who was similar to him and his teammates. Lanier saw the sport as an illustration of the strength of the United States. Just a few feet away from Lanier and the other players on the field, African American fans in the stands could be seen shaking hands and hugging Caucasian fans as they fostered a togetherness of their own. The fans came from a variety of backgrounds, occupations, economic statuses, and so on, gleefully cheering each and every touchdown and victory. The sport of football had—and still has—that power. It breaks down the social walls that, for years, have obstructed potential friendships between the races. Lanier knew that and witnessed it. He may have been a trailblazer on the field, breaking down an opposing rushing attack as the first African American middle linebacker in pro football history, but he also realized that races joining together in the stands and celebrating the sport was just as important—and just as inspirational. Society in Kansas City, upon Lanier’s arrival there in 1967, was similar to that in many growing cities in the interior of the nation. It was a hard-working city, where robust effort and maturing knowledge went hand in hand. In retrospect, it was an ideal landing spot for Lanier to develop his football and business careers. He got a chance to experience a segment of the country very different from where he spent his youth, giving him a better understanding of the tastes, interests, and opportunities of the representative Midwest population. Most impor-

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tantly, however, there was the framework of the Chiefs and how the players on Coach Stram’s roster accepted one another as equals. “I think the thing that was really always interesting to me was to come to a Midwestern city, not quite sure what and how it was going to play out,” recalled Lanier. And we had players, if it were black, from the South; from the North, and different schools. We had players who were white from the South, where there could’ve been questions in terms of schools they attended and where they grew up. But the lack of bias was one that was extremely impressive, because the relationships were pure, and it wasn’t something that was really pushed. But I think the individuals understood that if there was going to be accomplishment at the highest level, that everyone had to understand each other’s differences and each other’s similarities. And that was the way it happened to have come together and had become a great history of the success that the franchise was able to have. 14

Kansas City did have its share of neighborhood problems long before Lanier showed up. But the city provided the young linebacker with an opportunity to help foster social change within that community. He was able to have a substantial role in Kansas City’s dynamic, because both black players and white players on the team could get along well together. At least some of the credit for the societal conversions in Kansas City must also go to the consistent success of the Chiefs in the form of victories in the late 1960s and the love and support the city gave its team. Because of the efforts of men like Lanier, Bell, Lynch, Dawson, Garrett, Taylor, Robinson, and Thomas, the Chiefs had a playoffcaliber ballclub. “I think if we look at the social aspect in terms of the way it expanded opportunities for African Americans,” Lanier explained, as the adversity continued to expose itself in sport, which the rest of America could look at and gain something from it. It started to let people know that you could get along well together. From a community standpoint in Kansas City, as all the racial issues of the 1960s

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when I came into Kansas City while carrying . . . you had housing issues. You had educational issues. You had all of that going on. But a team comprised of blacks and whites allowed the community to realize that when you accepted one, you accepted the other. So it became one that this sport has allowed itself to be a sort of barometer in allowing people to be open in their discussions of how they view America. How they view opportunity. How they view future and possibility. And how people commit themselves fully to things to try to gain an outcome. So that becomes sort of an overview that I have of having watched the sport, the game, the people over these last many years, and continue to see it continuing to grow. And, obviously, you cannot change and solve all ills of the world. That is not what it’s designed to do. But it can cause people to reflect and think, and change some of their views through their view of it. 15

The Caucasian members of the team, to their credit, could not have cared less about the color of Lanier’s skin. All they cared about was which plays he called to stop their opponents. “Middle linebacker and center and quarterback are leadership positions,” Lanier said. The other people around you look to you for leadership. I think they were afraid that a black man couldn’t get the respect of the others. You’ve got to dictate to the others what to do. I think they were afraid there would be dissension with the black guy having a leadership position. A man’s play dictates the respect from the other 10 men, not his color. 16

He also stated, “I had to play well enough to knock down the myth that a black couldn’t play middle linebacker. I look around now and I see a lot of other black middle linebackers in the league, and I feel good about it.” 17 Willie Lanier could also feel good about how many goals he had accomplished and how they were accomplished. “I feel that you have to work toward goals,” Lanier said.

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My opinion is that the situation [for African Americans in sports] has gotten better, but I wouldn’t attempt to put a gauge on how much better. Just because you’re black and an athlete, you can’t assume that people are supposed to do something for you. When you get in that frame of mind, you’re in trouble. You’ve got to have something to offer in the business world. I know that when you’re in business and you pay someone to do something for you, you’ve got to get a return on your investment. 18

Lanier’s investment in pro football paid off in full years after his retirement from the game. His legacy, built during a span of a couple generations, has given him a strong sense of pride. But Lanier also began to question certain aspects of life as he grew older. He did what many people do throughout time: He became more worldly. “Playing in the Super Bowl and being inducted into the Hall of Fame were caps on my athletic career,” said Lanier. “But I never saw them as caps on my life.” 19 Willie further said, “Honors don’t mean anything if they are just for myself. If you can’t help other people then you have to wonder if the job is worth doing.” 20 And finally he stated, “I think we go through multiple life cycles. My goal is to keep surprising myself. That doesn’t give me any one set thing as my goal. I aspire to continually surprise myself.” 21 One unsurprising experience for Lanier—and, indeed, for everyone—is that we learn through example. We view an acceptable response to one thing or another and try to emulate that response, especially if it results in a favorable outcome. Willie Lanier followed that same pattern. He has learned how to inspire people. “Let me tell you something,” said Raymond Chester, a college teammate of Lanier’s and a former tight end with the Oakland Raiders and Baltimore Colts. You would have to look far and wide to find a better example of a total leader than Willie Lanier. On and off the field, Willie was (and still is) a great man. I had a chance to play against him for many years. You would have to look far and wide, and very, very deep, to find a better man than Willie Lanier. An excellent student, a great

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father. Willie has done really, really well outside of football. And he continues to be a positive example for me. And that’s the way he was back at Morgan State, as were most of our leaders and coaches. We had great coaches, great camaraderie, great dedication to our football program. And it started with guys like Willie Lanier. 22

It is important to note that Willie Lanier did not begin his life as a youngster believing he would be a trailblazer of sorts. But he did know, even as a young man, that he wanted to do something important with his life. Lanier, like all of us, knew he had only one life. His musings throughout the years were based on frugality. He did not want to waste the least little bit of time and effort. That is certainly not an easy goal to achieve. Many of us have numerous distractions that keep us from reaching our goals, and they often divert our attention away from our plans. That Willie Lanier has been successful in staying on track is admirable by most people’s standards. For him, the most basic and still the most important goal is to make the most of each blessed day. It is the genesis—and indeed the foundation, the bones, the marrow, and the heartbeat—of anyone who earns the label of trailblazer.

NOTES

INTRODUCTION 1. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006.

1. A COMMON BEGINNING FOR AN UNCOMMON MAN 1. Bill Libby, “Willie Lanier: Controlled Fury at Middle Linebacker,” Sport, January 1972. 2. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, 1969. 3. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 4. Seymour Smith, “TV Exposure for Morgan Delights Lanier,” Baltimore Sun, July 10, 1971. 5. Author’s note: It is unknown exactly how many scholarship offers Lanier received. 6. Paul Woody, “Willie Lanier,” Richmond Times-Dispatch, February 13, 1998. 7. Woody, “Willie Lanier.” 8. Bill Richardson, “Chief Rookie Used to Winning,” Kansas City Star, July 26, 1967. 9. Robert Anderson, “Interviews of Earl Mayo and Bob Wade,” Liberator Media Production Services, May 20, 2016. 10. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 217

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11. Raymond Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 12. Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 13. Mike Klingaman, “Catching Up with . . . Ex-Morgan State QB Daryl Johnson, Who Played for Patriots,” Baltimore Sun, January 9, 2015. 14. Associated Press, “Bears’ Orange Bowl Tilt Seems Certain,” Baltimore Afro-American, November 23, 1963. 15. Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 16. Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 17. Anderson, “Interviews of Earl Mayo and Bob Wade,” May 20, 2016. 18. Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 19. Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 20. Willie Lanier, brief telephone conversation with the author, May 10, 2017. 21. Anderson, “Interviews of Earl Mayo and Bob Wade,” May 20, 2016. 22. Anderson, “Interviews of Earl Mayo and Bob Wade,” May 20, 2016. 23. Klingaman, “Catching Up with . . . Ex-Morgan State QB Daryl Johnson.” 24. Anderson, “Interviews of Earl Mayo and Bob Wade,” May 20, 2016. 25. Richardson, “Chief Rookie Used to Winning.” 26. Mark Washington, telephone conversation with the author, August 30, 2017.

2. A CHANCE TO PLAY PRO FOOTBALL 1. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 2. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 3. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, 1969. 4. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. 5. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. 6. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. 7. Bill Richardson, “Chief Rookie Used to Winning,” Kansas City Star, July 26, 1967. 8. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 9. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. 10. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969.

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11. Lamar Hunt, postal correspondence with the author, May 1, 1985. 12. Hunt, postal correspondence with the author. 13. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. 14. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994 15. Tom Marshall, “Lanier, Lynch Line Up for Job in Middle,” Kansas City Star, August 28, 1968. 16. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 17. Marshall, “Lanier, Lynch Line Up for Job in Middle.” 18. Jim Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 19. Joe McGuff, Winning It All: The Chiefs of the AFL (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1970), 187. 20. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 21. Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 22. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 23. Bob Moore, telephone conversation with the author, April 4, 2018. 24. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 25. Marshall, “Lanier, Lynch Line Up for Job in Middle.” 26. Marshall, “Lanier, Lynch Line Up for Job in Middle.” 27. B. J. Kissel, “Remembering the NFL’s First Full-Time Black Scout, Lloyd Wells,” YouTube, February 26, 2016. Accessed July 20, 2019,https:// www.youtube.com/channel/UC-hXefb6XBFSubWz6Ezf_lA. 28. Kissel, “Remembering the NFL’s First Full-Time Black Scout, Lloyd Wells.” 29. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 30. Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 31. Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 32. Bill Libby, “Willie Lanier: Controlled Fury at Middle Linebacker,” Sport, January 1972. 33. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 34. William C. Rhoden, “Choosing Bearhugs Over Big Hits,” New York Times, October 23, 2010. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://www.nytimes.com/ 2010/10/24/sports/football/24rhoden.html. 35. Libby, “Willie Lanier.”

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36. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 37. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 38. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 39. Rhoden, “Choosing Bearhugs Over Big Hits.” 40. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969. 41. Bob Oates Jr., The Winner’s Edge: What the All-Pros Say about Success (New York: Mayflower, 1980), 91. 42. Rhoden, “Choosing Bearhugs Over Big Hits.”

3. COMING CLOSE TO A TITLE 1. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 2. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 3. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 4. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 5. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 6. Joe DeLamielleure, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. 7. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 8. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 9. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 10. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 11. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 12. Associated Press, “Chiefs, Cardinals Pick Up Important Victories,” Jefferson City Post-Tribune, October 28, 1968. 13. George Ross, “‘Raiders’s Best-Ever Game,’ Says Rauch,” Oakland Tribune, November 4, 1968. 14. Associated Press, “Ambush Next for Chiefs?” Hutchinson News, December 9, 1968. 15. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 16. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, 1969. 17. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” 1969.

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18. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006.

4. THE CHALLENGES OF 1969 1. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 2. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 3. Associated Press, “Chiefs Massacre Patriots, 31–0,” Lawrence Daily Journal-World, September 22, 1969. 4. Sheila Moran, “Bengals Upset Chiefs,” Wilson Daily Times, September 29, 1969. 5. Jim Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 6. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 7. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 8. Associated Press, “KC Tops Oilers in Rain, Slush,” Bryan Daily Eagle, October 13, 1969. 9. Associated Press, “KC Tops Oilers in Rain, Slush.” 10. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 11. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006 12. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 13. Milton Gross, “Willie Lanier: Manhandler,” New York Post, December 22, 1969. 14. Bob Kearney, “Oakland Thievery Chills KC, 27–24,” Lawrence Daily Journal-World, November 24, 1969. 15. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 16. George Ross, “From Omnipotence to Futility,” Oakland Tribune, November 24, 1969. 17. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 18. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 19. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 20. Associated Press, “Len Dawson Injured; OK Says Hank Stram,” Greeley Tribune, November 28, 1969.

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21. George Ross, “Innovative Ball Control?” Oakland Tribune, December 14, 1969. 22. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 23. Associated Press, “Madden Praises Raiders,” Montana Standard, December 14, 1969.

5. THE 1969 AFL PLAYOFFS 1. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 2. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 3. Len Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 4. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 5. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 6. Rick Smith, “They’re Not Going to Score!!! . . . and They Didn’t Get a Touchdown,” Pro! Magazine, December 19, 1976. 7. Smith, “They’re Not Going to Score!!!” 8. Rich Desrosiers, “Lanier Catalyst behind Chiefs’ Goal-Line Stand,” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. 9. Desrosiers, “Lanier Catalyst behind Chiefs’ Goal-Line Stand.” 10. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 11. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played”; Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994; Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 12. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 13. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994; Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 14. Smith, “They’re Not Going to Score!!!” 15. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994.

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16. Paul Zimmerman, A Thinking Man’s Guide to Pro Football, rev. ed. (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1971), 106–7; Rick Smith, “They’re Not Going to Score!!!” 17. Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 18. Jim Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 19. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 20. Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 21. Ed Sabol, executive producer, “This Week in Pro Football,” NFL Films, December 23, 1969. 22. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 23. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 24. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 25. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 26. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 27. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 28. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 29. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 30. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 31. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 32. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 33. Joe McGuff, Winning It All: The Chiefs of the AFL (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1970), 237. 34. McGuff, Winning It All, 237. 35. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 36. Ed Sabol, executive producer, and Buzz Ringe, writer and producer, “The Final Showdown,” NFL Films, 1970.

6. THE SUPER CHIEFS 1. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 2. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/.

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3. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 4. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 5. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 6. Len Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 7. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 8. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 9. Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 10. Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 11. Joe McGuff, Winning It All: The Chiefs of the AFL (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1970), 251. 12. McGuff, Winning It All, 251. 13. Jim Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 14. McGuff, Winning It All, 251. 15. Lynch, interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. 16. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 17. Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 18. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 19. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 20. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 21. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 22. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 23. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 24. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006.

7. TO BE CHAMPIONS AGAIN 1. Steve Sabol, producer and director, “The Super Bowl,” NFL Films, 1970. 2. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 3. Len Dawson, interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. 4. United Press International, “Chiefs Thoroughly Beaten by Broncos,” Kenosha (Wisconsin) News, October 5, 1970. 5. Bruce Rice, “Contact! The World of Willie Lanier,” KC Fan Magazine, September 1971.

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6. Associated Press, “World Champion KC Chiefs Get Back on the Victory Trail,” Jefferson City Post-Tribune, October 12, 1970. 7. Associated Press, “Stram Says 3rd Down Plays Were Difference,” Denton (Texas) Record Chronicle, October 26, 1970. 8. Associated Press, “Stram Says 3rd Down Plays Were Difference.” 9. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 10. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 11. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, 1969. 12. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 13. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 14. Associated Press, “Holub Takes Rap for Costly Error,” Avalanche Journal, November 23, 1970. 15. Bob Oates Jr., The Winner’s Edge: What the All-Pros Say about Success (New York: Mayflower, 1980), 94. 16. Associated Press, “KC Chiefs Blank Denver Broncos, Raiders Next,” Atchison Daily Globe, December 7, 1970. 17. Lowell Hickey, “Chiefs Now Root for Jets,” Daily Review, December 13, 1970. 18. Hickey, “Chiefs Now Root for Jets.” 19. Ray Means, “Garrett Bows Out in Style,” Kenosha (Wisconsin) News, December 21, 1970.

8. THE LONGEST GAME 1. Bob Moore, telephone conversation with the author, April 4, 2018. 2. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hof-

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mlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 3. Joe McGuff, “Lanier Was a Pioneer at Position,” Kansas City Star, January 28, 1986. 4. Robert Markus, “Better Than Dick Butkus?” Chicago Tribune, July 22, 1970. 5. Bruce Rice, “Contact! The World of Willie Lanier,” KC Fan Magazine, September 1971. 6. Markus, “Better Than Dick Butkus?” 7. Mike Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier,” Pro Quarterback, December 1971. 8. Joe McGuff, “Willie Lanier: Best Linebacker in NFL?” Football Digest, May/June, 1972. 9. Bill Libby, “Willie Lanier: Controlled Fury at Middle Linebacker,” Sport, January 1972. 10. Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier.” 11. Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier.” 12. Bill Braucher, “Willie Lanier: This Grizzly Is Puzzled by Violent Game,” Miami Herald, January 29, 1972. 13. Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier.” 14. Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier.” 15. Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier.” 16. Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier.” 17. Associated Press, “Chiefs Win Costly for Aching Broncos,” Jefferson City Post-Tribune, October 4, 1971. 18. Associated Press, “Chiefs Win Costly for Aching Broncos”; Associated Press, “Stram Calls Sunday’s Win Finest Team Performance,” Hutchinson News, October 11, 1971, 31. 19. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 20. Associated Press, “Redskins Find’um Out Who Rule’um Tepee,” Hutchinson News, October 25, 1971. 21. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 22. Associated Press, “Lenny the Cool Steals Blanda’s Act,” Hutchinson News, December 13, 1971. 23. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994.

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24. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 25. Joe Zagorski, The NFL in the 1970s: Pro Football’s Most Important Decade (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2016), 69. 26. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 27. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 28. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. 29. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 30. Frank Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds,” Black Sports, October, 1972. 31. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 32. Alan Hoskins, Warpaths: The Illustrated History of the Kansas City Chiefs (Dallas, TX: Taylor, 1999), 56. 33. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.”

9. TO RETIRE OR NOT TO RETIRE 1. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 2. Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” 3. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, April 27, 1973. 4. Bob Moore, telephone conversation with the author, April 4, 2018. 5. Seymour Smith, “Lanier Adds Civic Duty to Linebacking,” Baltimore Sun, April 21, 1974. 6. Pete Rozelle, letter to Willie Lanier, April 19, 1973. 7. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” April 27, 1973. 8. Matt Cimber, producer and director, The Black 6, 94 minutes, Miracle Pictures, 1974. 9. Ruth Ann Lewellen, “On the Job with . . . Willie Lanier,” Chiefs Insiders, August 10, 1973.

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10. McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” April 27, 1973. 11. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 12. Dave Payne, “Lanier and Lynch Retire Together,” Football Digest, April 1978. 13. Joe McGuff, “Lanier Keeps His Discontent Beneath the Surface,” Kansas City Star, August 29, 1974. 14. Moore, telephone conversation with the author. 15. McGuff, “Lanier Keeps His Discontent Beneath the Surface.” 16. T. J. Troup, interview with the author, November 10, 2017. 17. Steve Guback, “Willie Lanier Will Return against the Redskins,” Washington Star, October 7, 1976. 18. Rich Desrosiers, “Lanier Combines Talent, Intelligence,” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. 19. Guback, “Willie Lanier Will Return against the Redskins.” 20. Gene Fox, “Lanier Can Be Found in a Most Familiar Spot,” Kansas City Times, October 7, 1976. 21. Rich Desrosiers, “‘Honeybear’ Learned New Approach,” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. 22. Gerald B. Jordan, “Lanier Quits at Apex,” Kansas City Times, December 12, 1976. 23. Doug Kelly, “Farewell to Willie Lanier,” Pro! Magazine, December 14, 1977. 24. Kelly, “Farewell to Willie Lanier.” 25. Bob Sprenger, “Eleven Years of Class,” Pro! Magazine, December 11, 1977. 26. Kelly, “Farewell to Willie Lanier.” 27. Payne, “Lanier and Lynch Retire Together.”

10. A BUSINESS SUIT AND THE REAL WORLD 1. Gerald B. Jordan, “Lanier Quits at Apex,” Kansas City Times, December 12, 1976. 2. Bob Oates Jr., The Winner’s Edge: What the All-Pros Say about Success (New York: Mayflower, 1980), 94. 3. Frank Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds,” Black Sports, October 1972.

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4. Tom Nelson, “Making ‘Contact,’” WealthManagement.com, July 1, 2000. Accessed July 31, 2019, https://www.wealthmanagement.com/archive/ making-contact. 5. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.” 6. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, April 27, 1973. 7. Nelson, “Making ‘Contact.’” 8. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.” 9. Bill Libby, “Willie Lanier: Controlled Fury at Middle Linebacker,” Sport, January 1972. 10. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.” 11. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.” 12. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.” 13. Harry Carson, Facebook post, October 29, 2017. 14. Frank Ross, “A Matter of Opportunity,” Pro! Magazine, August 27, 1972. 15. Clinton R. Coleman, “Morgan Announces Endowed Lectureship in Business Ethics,” Morgan State University Newsroom, May 13, 2015. Accessed July 31, 2019, https://news.morgan.edu/morgan-announces-endowedlectureship-in-business-ethics/. 16. Coleman, “Morgan Announces Endowed Lectureship in Business Ethics.” 17. Coleman, “Morgan Announces Endowed Lectureship in Business Ethics.”

11. THE PRO FOOTBALL HALL OF FAME 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. Bill Shefski, “Lanier: Black and Brutal,” Sports Extra, October 20, 1972. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. Shefski, “Lanier.” Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, September 21, 2000. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, September 21, 2000.

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10. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 11. Rich Desrosiers, “Lanier Combines Talent, Intelligence,” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. 12. Desrosiers, “Lanier Combines Talent, Intelligence.” 13. Bob Gretz, “Chiefs Add Another Linebacker to Hall,” Kansas City Star, January 28, 1986. 14. Bob Moore, telephone conversation with the author, April 4, 2018. 15. Joe McGuff, “Lanier was a Pioneer at Position,” Kansas City Star, January 28, 1986. 16. Dave Spada and Elliot Harris, Talking Football: Hall of Famers’ Remembrances, vol. 2 (Middletown, DE: Spade Law Offices, 2015), 270. 17. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. 18. Spada and Harris, Talking Football, 270–71. 19. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, September 21, 2000. 20. Lamar Hunt, Hall of Fame presentation speech, Canton, Ohio, August 2, 1986. 21. Willie Lanier, Hall of Fame speech, Canton, Ohio, August 2, 1986.

CONCLUSION. FINAL MUSINGS FROM A TRAILBLAZER 1. Frank Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds,” Black Sports, October 1972. 2. Bob Sprenger, “Eleven Years of Class,” Pro! Magazine, December 11, 1977. 3. Sprenger, “Eleven Years of Class.” 4. “Willie Lanier,” Jet, March 1973. 5. “Willie Lanier,” Jet. 6. “Willie Lanier,” Jet. 7. Sprenger, “Eleven Years of Class.” 8. Mike Rathet, “The Case for Willie Lanier,” Pro Quarterback, December 1971. 9. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.” 10. Ross, “One Man, Two Worlds.”

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11. Rick Gosselin, “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played,” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https://footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hofmlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-most-intense-exhibition-game-ever-playedFO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. 12. Frank Ross, “A Matter of Opportunity,” Pro! Magazine, August 27, 1972. 13. Joe McGuff, “Willie Lanier: Best Linebacker in NFL?” Football Digest, May/June 1972. 14. Willie Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 15. Lanier, interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. 16. Bill Shefski, “Lanier: Black and Brutal,” Sports Extra, October 20, 1972. 17. Joe McGuff, “Lanier was a Pioneer at Position,” Kansas City Star, January 28, 1986. 18. Joe McGuff, “Sporting Comment,” Kansas City Star, April 27, 1973. 19. Paul Woody, “Willie Lanier,” Richmond Times-Dispatch, February 13, 1998. 20. McGuff, “Willie Lanier.” 21. Woody, “Willie Lanier.” 22. Raymond Chester, telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ARTICLES Associated Press. “Ambush Next for Chiefs?” Hutchinson News, December 9, 1968. ———. “Bears’ Orange Bowl Tilt Seems Certain.” Baltimore Afro-American, November 23, 1963. ———. “Blocked Kicks Concern Stram.” Emporia Gazette, October 1, 1973. ———. “Chiefs Blow 14-Point Lead on Chargers.” Jefferson City Daily Capital News, September 21, 1971. ———. “Chiefs, Cardinals Pick Up Important Victories.” Jefferson City Post-Tribune, October 28, 1968. ———. “Chiefs Catch Oilers.” Lawrence Daily Journal-World, September 27, 1971. ———. “Chiefs Dim Upset Early, Roll Over Broncos, 28–10.” Lawrence Daily Journal World, November 22, 1971. ———. “Chiefs Help Detroit Enjoy Thanksgiving.” Colorado Springs Gazette, November 26, 1971. ———. “Chiefs Massacre Patriots, 31–0.” Lawrence Daily Journal World, September 22, 1969. ———. “Chiefs, Raiders Still Tied after Playing to Standoff.” Hutchinson News, November 1, 1971. ———. “Chiefs Stop Miami Rally, 17–10, for Fifth Victory.” Jefferson City Post-Tribune, October 20, 1969. ———. “Chiefs Win Costly for Aching Broncos.” Jefferson City Post-Tribune, October 4, 1971. ———. “Credit Love, Says Wiggin.” Lawrence Journal-World, October 13, 1975. ———. “Dawson Rescues Chiefs.” Ottawa Herald, November 3, 1969. ———. “Futurity at Pimlico Set for Today.” Cumberland Evening Times, November 23, 1963. ———. “Holub Takes Rap for Costly Error.” Avalanche Journal, November 23, 1970. ———. “Interceptions Lead KC Chiefs to 24–9 Victory.” Atchison Globe, November 9, 1970.

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———. “KC Chiefs Blank Denver Broncos, Raiders Next,” Atchison Daily Globe, December 7, 1970. ———. “KC Tops Oilers in Rain, Slush.” Bryan Daily Eagle, October 13, 1969. ———. “Len Dawson Injured; OK Says Hank Stram.” Greeley Tribune, November 28, 1969. ———. “Lenny the Cool Steals Blanda’s Act.” Hutchinson News, December 13, 1971. ———. “Madden Praises Raiders.” Montana Standard, December 14, 1969. ———. “Redskins Find’um Out Who Rule’um Tepee.” Hutchinson News, October 25, 1971. ———. “Stram Calls Sunday’s Win Finest Team Performance.” Hutchinson News, October 11, 1971. ———. “Stram: Chiefs Making Move for ‘Super.’” Daily Review, November 30, 1970. ———. “Stram Cites ‘Great Win’ after Chiefs Nip Patriots.” Emporia Gazette, September 24, 1973. ———. “Stram Says 3rd Down Plays Were Difference.” Denton (Texas) Record Chronicle, October 26, 1970. ———. “World Champion KC Chiefs Get Back on the Victory Trail.” Jefferson City PostTribune, October 12, 1970. Braucher, Bill. “Willie Lanier: This Grizzly Is Puzzled by Violent Game.” Miami Herald, January 29, 1972. Brinker, Bernard. “Beat the Hell Out of Them: The Chiefs–Raiders Rivalry, 1968–1971.” Coffin Corner 34, no. 5 (2012): 11–18. Coleman, Clinton R. “Morgan Announces Endowed Lectureship in Business Ethics.” Morgan State University Newsroom, May 13, 2015. Accessed July 31, 2019, https://news. morgan.edu/morgan-announces-endowed-lectureship-in-business-ethics/. Desrosiers, Rich. “‘Honeybear’ Learned New Approach.” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. ———. “Lanier Catalyst behind Chiefs’ Goal-Line Stand.” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. ———. “Lanier Combines Talent, Intelligence.” Canton (Ohio) Repository, July 31, 1986. Fox, Gene. “Lanier Can Be Found in a Most Familiar Spot.” Kansas City Times, October 7, 1976. Gray, Mark F. “Morgan State University 1966 Golden Bears Honored at Citrus Bowl.” Special to MSU Athletics Media Relations, January 13, 2016. Gretz, Bob. “Chiefs Add Another Linebacker to Hall.” Kansas City Star, January 28, 1986. Gross, Milton. “Willie Lanier: Manhandler.” New York Post, December 22, 1969. Guback, Steve. “Willie Lanier Will Return against the Redskins.” Washington Star, October 7, 1976. Hickey, Lowell. “Chiefs Now Root for Jets.” Daily Review, December 13, 1970. Hlava, Chuck. “Denver Defense Falters as Livingston Leads KC.” Colorado Springs Gazette, October 6, 1969. Jordan, Gerald B. “Lanier Quits at Apex.” Kansas City Times, December 12, 1976. Kearney, Bob. “Oakland Thievery Chills KC, 27–24.” Lawrence Daily Journal-World, November 24, 1969. Kelly, Doug. “Farewell to Willie Lanier.” Pro! Magazine, December 14, 1977. Klingaman, Mike. “Catching Up With . . . Ex-Morgan State QB Daryl Johnson, Who Played for Patriots.” Baltimore Sun, January 9, 2015. Lazarus, Jeremy. “Richmond NFL Hall of Famer Donates $500,000 to Morgan State University.” Richmond Free Press, May 22, 2015. LeBar, Paul. “Worn-Out Phrase Wears Down Cards.” Atchison Daily Globe, December 2, 1974.

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Lee, Raymond. “The Most Impressive Team I’ve Ever Seen.” Coffin Corner 31, no. 5 (2009): 20–23. Lewellen, Ruth Ann. “On the Job with . . . Willie Lanier.” Chiefs Insiders, August 10, 1973. Libby, Bill. “Willie Lanier: Controlled Fury at Middle Linebacker.” Sport, January 1972. Markus, Robert. “Better Than Dick Butkus?” Chicago Tribune, July 22, 1970. Marshall, Tom. “Lanier, Lynch Line Up for Job in Middle.” Kansas City Star, August 28, 1968. McGuff, Joe. “Lanier Keeps His Discontent Beneath the Surface.” Kansas City Star, August 29, 1974. ———. “Lanier Was a Pioneer at Position.” Kansas City Star, January 28, 1986. ———. “Sporting Comment.” Kansas City Star, 1969. ———. “Sporting Comment.” Kansas City Star, April 27, 1973. ———. “Willie Lanier: Best Linebacker in NFL?” Football Digest, May/June 1972. Means, Ray. “Garrett Bows Out in Style.” Kenosha News, December 21, 1970. Moran, Sheila. “Bengals Upset Chiefs.” Wilson Daily Times, September 29, 1969. O’Connor, John. “Willie Lanier at 70: ‘All the Joints Are Still Mine.’” Richmond TimesDispatch, August 21, 2015. Payne, Dave. “Lanier and Lynch Retire Together.” Football Digest, April 1978. Rathet, Mike. “The Case for Willie Lanier.” Pro Quarterback, December 1971. Rhoden, William C. “Choosing Bearhugs Over Big Hits.” New York Times, October 23, 2010. ———. “For Lanier, a Fitting Salute.” New York Times, August 2, 1986. Rice, Bruce. “Contact! The World of Willie Lanier.” KC Fan Magazine, September 1971. Richardson, Bill. “Chief Rookie Used to Winning.” Kansas City Star, July 26, 1967. Ross, Frank. “A Matter of Opportunity.” Pro! Magazine, August 27, 1972. ———. “One Man, Two Worlds.” Black Sports, October 1972. Ross, George. “From Omnipotence to Futility.” Oakland Tribune, November 24, 1969. ———. “Innovative Ball Control?” Oakland Tribune, December 14, 1969. ———. “A Matter of Opportunity,” Pro! Magazine, August 27, 1972. ———. “One Man, Two Worlds.” Black Sports, October 1972. ———. “‘Raiders’s Best-Ever Game,’ Says Rauch.” Oakland Tribune, November 4, 1968. Sargis, Joe. “Dawson Outduels Brodie, Chiefs Beat 49ers, 26–17.” Sheboygan Press, December 7, 1971. Schnedler, Jack. “‘Sore Arm’ Dawson Sparkles.” Corpus Christi Times, October 19, 1971. Shefski, Bill. “Lanier: Black and Brutal.” Sports Extra, October 20, 1972. Smith, Rick. “They’re Not Going to Score!!! . . . and They Didn’t Get a Touchdown.” Pro! Magazine, December 19, 1976. Smith, Seymour. “Lanier Adds Civic Duty to Linebacking.” Baltimore Sun, April 21, 1974. ———. “TV Exposure for Morgan Delights Lanier,” Baltimore Sun, July 10, 1971. Sprenger, Bob. “Eleven Years of Class.” Pro! Magazine, December 11, 1977. United Press International. “Chiefs Defense Flexes Muscles.” Sandusky Register, November 15, 1971. ———. “Chiefs Thoroughly Beaten by Broncos.” Kenosha (Wisconsin) News, October 5, 1970. ———. “Stram Credits Big Play in 27–19 Win.” Independence Examiner, October 19, 1970. “Willie Lanier,” Jet, March 1973. Woody, Paul. “Willie Lanier.” Richmond Times-Dispatch, February 13, 1998. Zagorski, Joe. “The Mentor Meant Business: How Hank Stram’s 1968 Full House Backfield Ran Over the Raiders.” Pro Football Journal, October 3, 2018.

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———. “The Visionary Chief.” PFRA Annual, 1987.

BOOKS Bennett, Tom. The Pro Style. The Complete Guide to Understanding National Football League Strategy. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1976. Clary, Jack. The Gamemakers: Winning Philosophies of Eight NFL Coaches. Chicago: Follett, 1976. Connor, Dick. Kansas City Chiefs: Great Teams’ Great Years. New York: Macmillan, 1974. Gretz, Bob. Tales from the Kansas City Sideline. New York: Sports Publishing, 2015. Horrigan, Joe, and John Thorn. The Pro Football Hall of Fame 50th Anniversary Book. New York: Grand Central, 2012. Hoskins, Alan. Warpaths: The Illustrated History of the Kansas City Chiefs. Dallas, TX: Taylor, 1999. MacCambridge, Michael. America’s Game. New York: Random House, 2008. McGuff, Joe. Winning It All: The Chiefs of the AFL. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1970. Neft, David S., and Richard M. Cohen. The Sports Encyclopedia Edition 6: Pro Football: The Modern Era, 1960–1988. New York: St. Martin’s, 1988. Oates, Bob, Jr. The Winner’s Edge: What the All-Pros Say about Success. New York: Mayflower, 1980. Reidenbaugh, Lowell, and Paul Attner. The Sporting News Super Bowl Book. St. Louis, MO: Sporting News, 1987. Riffenburgh, Beau. The Official NFL Encyclopedia, 4th ed., updated and revised. New York: New American Library, 1986. Spada, Dave, and Elliot Harris. Talking Football: Hall of Famers’ Remembrances, vol. 2. Middletown, DE: Spade Law Offices, 2015. Stallard, Mark. Super Chiefs: Stories from the Kansas City Glory Days. Overland Park, KS: Kaw Valley Books, 2013. Wiebusch, John. The Super Bowl: Celebrating a Quarter-Century of America’s Greatest Game. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1990. Zagorski, Joe. The NFL in the 1970s: Pro Football’s Most Important Decade. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2016. Zimmerman, Paul. A Thinking Man’s Guide to Pro Football, rev. ed. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1971.

EDITORIALS Helms, Herman. Editorial. State, February 1974.

LETTERS Carson, Harry. Facebook post, October 29, 2017.

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Rozelle, Pete. Letter to Willie Lanier, April 19, 1973.

WEBSITES Gosselin, Rick. “HOF MLB Willie Lanier Revisits the Most Intense Exhibition Game Ever Played.” Talk of Fame Sports, February 24, 2018. Accessed July 20, 2019, https:// footballmaven.io/talkoffame/nfl/tofn-podcast-hof-mlb-willie-lanier-revisits-the-mostintense-exhibition-game-ever-played-FO5KyL6t5UG_ZpmRACdVOQ/. Kissel, B. J. “Remembering the NFL’s First Full-Time Black Scout, Lloyd Wells.” Chiefs.com, February 26, 2016. Accessed July 31, 2019, https://www.chiefs.com/news/ remembering-the-nfl-s-first-full-time-black-scout-lloyd-wells-16867320. Nelson, Tom. “Making ‘Contact.’” WealthManagement.com, July 1, 2000. Accessed July 31, 2019, https://www.wealthmanagement.com/archive/making-contact. “Remember Yesteryear: NCAA’s Tangerine Bowl 1966—Morgan State University vs. West Chester.” Dilemma X, December 27, 2016. Accessed July 31, 2019, https://dilemma-x.net/ 2016/12/27/remember-yesteryear-ncaas-tangerine-bowl-1966-morgan-state-university-vswest-chester/.

INTERVIEWS Chester, Raymond. Telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. Dawson, Len. Interview with NFL Films, May 5, 2006. DeLamielleure, Joe. Telephone conversation with the author, June 29, 2017. Hunt, Lamar. Postal correspondence with the author, May 1, 1985. Lanier, Willie. Brief telephone conversation with the author, May 10, 2017. ———. Interview with NFL Films, October 24, 1994. ———. Interview with NFL Films, April 18, 2006. ———. Interview with NFL Films, May 8, 2006. Lynch, Jim. Interview with NFL Films, April 17, 2006. Moore, Bob. Telephone conversation with the author, April 4, 2018. Troup, T. J. Iinterview with the author, November 10, 2017. Washington, Mark. Telephone conversation with the author, August 30, 2017.

VIDEOS Anderson, Robert. “Interviews of Earl Mayo and Bob Wade.” Liberator Media Production Services, May 20, 2016. Cimber, Matt, producer and director. The Black 6. Miracle Pictures, 1974. Plaut, David, producer and director. “America’s Game, the Super Bowl Champions, Super Bowl IV, Kansas City Chiefs.” NFL Films, 2006. ———. “America’s Game, the Super Bowl Champions, Super Bowl V, Baltimore Colts.” NFL Films, 2007.

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BIBLIOGRA P HY

Sabol, Ed, executive producer. “This Week in Pro Football.” NFL Films, December 23, 1969. ———. Various NFL Films programs from 1967 to 1977, including This Week in Pro Football, This Is the NFL, NFL Game of the Week, and Kansas City Chiefs annual highlight films. ———, and Buzz Ringe, writer and producer. “The Final Showdown.” NFL Films, 1970. Sabol, Steve, producer and director. “The Super Bowl.” NFL Films, 1970.

INDEX

3-4 Defense, 51 4-3 Defense, 50, 51, 64, 206 4-4 Defense, 27 65 Toss Power Trap, 125 Alabama, 38 Alger, Horatio, 1 Ali, Muhammad, 38–39 American Cancer Society, 169 American Football Conference (AFC), 136 American Football League (AFL), xvi, 22, 23–24, 25, 26, 29, 29–30, 30, 35, 38, 38–39, 40, 41, 48, 56, 57, 58, 60, 62, 63, 67, 68, 71–72, 76, 79, 80, 81, 84, 88, 91, 97, 102, 103–104, 106, 107, 108, 112, 113, 114, 116, 118, 124, 128, 131–132, 137, 147, 159, 180, 193, 196, 197, 203 Anderson, Dick, 158 Arrowhead Stadium, 166, 168, 180 Atkinson, Al, 101 Atkinson, George, 109 Baird, Bill, 101 Baltimore Afro-American (Newspaper), 11 Baltimore Colts, 23, 24, 47, 116, 134, 145, 150, 214 Baltimore, Maryland, xv, 5, 169 Banks, Earl “Papa Bear,” 7, 17, 20, 170

Barney, Lem, 171 Baur, Bob, 109 Beasley, John, 127 Beathard, Pete, 58 Bell, Bobby, 40, 64, 98, 154, 156, 176, 203, 207 Berkeley, California, 47 Bettis, Tom, 98, 177, 196 Biletnikoff, Fred, 172 The Black 6 (Movie), 171 Blanda, George, 65, 107 Boghossian, Fikru, Dr., 190 Boston, Massachusetts, 47 Boston Patriots, 66, 75, 80, 132, 136, 151 Boys Club, The, 169 Brandt, Gil, xvi Brown, Aaron, 66, 106, 107, 115, 152 Brown, Paul, 71 Brown, Willie, 109 Buchanan, Buck, 38, 40 Budde, Ed, 111 Buffalo Bills, 41, 87 Buoniconti, Nick, 149 Butkus, Dick, 56, 149, 150, 151, 199 California, 68, 102, 103, 120 Cannon, Billy, 108 Canton, Ohio, 195, 196, 198, 204, 210 Cary Street Partners (Firm), 186 Central Intercollegiate Athletic Association (CIAA), 8, 16–17, 17 239

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Chester, Raymond (Ray), x, 8, 12, 15, 22, 139, 214 Chicago, Illinois, 32, 33, 47 Chicago All-Star Game, 32 Chicago Bears, 32, 33, 56, 149 Chiefettes, The, 73 Cimber, Matt, 171 Cincinnati Bengals, 62, 66, 75, 80, 81, 136, 167 Civil Rights Movement, 4 Civil War, 35 Cleveland Browns, 155, 167, 177 Clover, Virginia, 1, 203 College All-Stars, 32 College All-Star Game, 32 Commissioner’s Advisory Committee, 201 Contact (Nickname), 43 Cooper, Fred “Cannonball,” 2 Csonka, Larry, 151, 161 Culp, Curley, 51, 115, 117, 127, 176, 203 Cuozzo, Gary, 133 Curtis, Mike, 150, 151 Custer, George Armstrong (General), 33 Dabney, Carlton, 22 Dallas Cowboys, xvi, 21, 136, 151 Dallas Texans, 71, 131 Dallas, Texas, 11 Darragh, Don, 80 Davidson, Ben, 139, 139–140 Dawson, Donald, 119, 120 Dawson, Len, ix, 41, 60–61, 65, 66, 74, 77, 78, 80, 82, 84, 85, 87, 92, 100, 105, 109, 118, 119, 120–121, 126, 133, 137, 139, 141, 144, 145, 148, 153, 155, 158 DeLamielleure, Joe, x, 51 Delaware State (Hornets), 8, 10, 16, 17 Democratic National Convention, 47 Denver Broncos, 41, 60, 85, 143, 155, 207 Detroit Lions, 27, 155 Dixon, Hewritt, 68, 105 Downtown Wholesalers (Company), 172 Earl G. Graves School of Business and Management, 190 Easter Seals, 169 Eller, Carl, 171 Elrod, Jimbo, 176

INDEX

Fawcett Stadium, 196 Fellowship of Christian Athletes, 169 Fleming, Marv, 158, 159 Florida, xv Florida A & M University (Rattlers), 12 Football Digest (Magazine), 151 Franklin and Marshall University, 19 Freedom League, The, 29 Fuqua, John “Frenchy,” 22 Gaither, Jake, 19 Gamber, Hugh, 107 Garrett, Mike, 63, 101, 107, 123, 125 Georgia, 38 Gold Ocean Mile, 48 Gordon, Cornell, 101 Grambling State University, 4, 19, 115 Granger, Hoyle, 58 Green Bay Packers, 25, 32, 33, 113, 177, 245 Greene, Joe “Mean,” 171 Griese, Bob, 158, 159 Hadl, John, 42, 64, 66, 74 Haik, Mac, 58 Halifax County, Virginia, 1 Hampton Institute, 9, 17 Harvey, Jim, 105 Hayes, Bob, 137 Hayes, Wendell, 63, 105, 139 Hill, David, 139 Historically Black Football Colleges (HBFC), 8, 12, 16, 18 Holmes, Robert, 62, 63, 79 Holub, E. J., 121 Honeybear (Lanier’s Nickname), 44, 66, 96, 99 Horn, Don, 152 Houston Astrodome, 58 Houston Oilers, 42, 66, 79, 102, 140, 152 Howard University, 9 Hubbard, Marv, 144 Hubbert, Brad, 42 Huddle Club, The, 73 Hughes Stadium, 11 Hunt, Lamar, x, 29, 30, 48, 71, 128, 134, 177, 196, 197, 198, 200, 203 Hunt Oil, 29

I N DE X

Iowa, 74 Johnson, Bob, 74 Johnson, Charley, 140 Johnson, Daryl, 10, 20, 22 Kansas, 74, 189 Kansas City Chiefs Hall of Fame, 193 Kansas City Red Coat Club, The, 73 Kansas City Royals, 72, 166 Kansas City Star (Newspaper), 68 Kapp, Joe, 127, 132 Kassulke, Karl, 126, 132 Kearney, Jim, 64, 78, 81, 98, 105, 108, 111, 140 Kennedy, John F. (President of the United States), 11 Kennedy, Robert F., 47 Keyes, Leroy, 3 Kiick, Jim, 158 King, Martin Luther Jr., 47 Lamonica, Daryle, 64, 65, 67, 88, 106, 139, 144 Lanier Group, LLC, The (Business), 186 Lanier, Robert Sr., 2 Lanier, Willie: birth, 1; his youthful years, 2; his high school years, 2–4; decision to attend Morgan State University, 5–6; his ultimate college football victory, 18–21 Lanier, Willie, quotes on: 1969 AFL divisional playoffs, goal line stand, 94–101; 1971 AFC divisional playoffs, double overtime loss to Miami, 160, 161, 162, 163; AFL/NFL differences, 26, 26–27, 28, 29; Arrowhead Stadium, 166; being drafted to play pro football, 23–26, 200; benched, 1976, 176; The Black 6 (movie), 171–172; Dick Butkus comparison, 56–57, 149–150, 150, 151, 199; on community involvement, 169, 170, 212; concussions, 42–45, 188–189; defensive strategy, 49, 50–51, 51–56; drugs in America, 208; first African American middle linebacker in pro football history, 206, 209, 209–210; first pro interception, 59–60; first pro

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game versus an NFL team, 32–34; first pro training camp, 31, 34–35, 36; Honeybear moniker, 44; Lamar Hunt, 30, 197–198; Morgan State University, football dominance from 1963 to 1966, 21; Morgan State University, legacy, 172, 190–191, 210; Morgan State University, monetary donation 190–191; NFL Man of the Year, 1972, 169, 169–170, 187; NFL players strike, 1974, 173–174; NFL retirement, 174, 175, 177, 178–179, 179, 181; Oakland Raiders brawl, 1970, 139–140; Oakland Raiders rivalry, 67–68, 84–85, 88, 102–104, 105, 106, 107, 109–110, 137–140, 156, 172, 180; Municipal Stadium atmosphere, 72–74; Pro Football Hall of Fame enshrinement, 196, 197–198, 199, 202, 204; Ray Nitschke Memorial Luncheon, 199; Hank Stram, 33, 37, 67, 78, 85–87, 106, 125, 209; Super Bowl IV underdog status, 114–115; working for the Philip Morris Agency, Inc., 173, 175, 176, 178, 179, 183, 184–185 Lee, Jackie, 65, 75, 77 Liberty, Missouri, xvii Liske, Pete, 78 Little Big Horn (Battle of), 33 Little, Floyd, 207 Livingston, Mike, 76, 78, 79, 85 Long Island, New York City, 92 Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, 57 Los Angeles Rams, 57–58 Louisiana, 38, 113, 127, 128, 197 Louisiana State University (LSU), 117 Lynch, Jim, ix, 24, 25, 30, 31, 32, 33, 37, 39, 60, 64, 66, 75, 97, 98, 100, 105, 121, 144, 151, 174, 178, 179, 199, 203, 207 MacCambridge, Michael, 38 Mackbee, Earsell, 126 Mackey, John, 23 Maggie L. Walker High School, 2, 3, 4, 80, 162, 198 March of Dimes, 169 Marsalis, Jim, 80, 102, 111 Maryland, xv, 9, 134

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Maryland Eastern Shore (Hawks), 8, 9, 16, 17, 38 Mason-Dixon Line, xvi, 8 Mathis, Bill, 97 Mayo Clinic, 42 Mayo, Earl, 7, 14, 19 Mays, Jerry, 99, 106, 115, 121 McGuff, Joe, 32, 68 Miami Dolphins, 41, 60, 79, 157, 165 Mile High Stadium, 78, 135, 152 Milnes, Greg, 20 Minnesota, 135 Minnesota Vikings, 113, 114, 116, 117, 118, 122, 123, 124, 126, 126–127, 132–133, 171 Mississippi, 38 Missouri, xvii, 74, 94, 141, 153, 159, 184, 186, 189, 206 Mitchell, Willie, 64, 87, 107 Mitten, Bob, 20 Monday Night Football, 134, 153, 155, 167 Moore, Bob, ix, 35, 147, 148, 168, 174, 201 Morgan State University (Golden Bears), x, xi, xv, 5, 8, 21, 172, 183, 189, 191, 203, 206 Morris, Eugene “Mercury,” 171 Morton, Craig, 137, 151 Mount Everest, 197 Municipal Stadium, 41, 62, 72, 73, 74, 79, 80, 84, 87, 136, 140, 143, 153, 157, 161, 166 Namath, Joe, 47, 48, 59, 83, 92, 93, 94, 96, 97, 97–98, 102, 119 National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics (NAIA), 8, 10, 20 National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), 8, 115 National Football Conference (NFC), 113, 136, 147 National Football League (NFL), xvi, 8, 10, 22, 23, 23–24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 32, 33, 37, 47, 48, 56, 72, 103, 108, 113, 114, 116, 120, 125, 131–132, 132, 135, 139, 140, 141, 147, 154, 157, 158, 169, 170, 170–171, 173, 174, 175, 176, 181, 187, 188, 193, 195, 196, 198, 201

INDEX

National Football League (NFL) Draft, 24, 25–26, 35, 147, 200, 206 National Football League (NFL) Players Association, 173 National Football League (NFL) Safety Advisory Panel, 201 NFL Films, ix, xi, 10, 125, 132 NFL Man of the Year Award, 169, 170, 193 Nebraska, 74 New England Patriots, 66, 75, 132, 136 New Orleans, Louisiana, 38, 113, 127, 128, 197 New York Giants, 188, 196 New York Jets, 41, 47–48, 59–60, 81, 83, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96–97, 97, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105, 114, 116, 145, 154, 159, 203 New York Times (Newspaper), 43 Nitschke, Ray, 199 Nixon, Richard Milhous (President of the United States), 163 Nock, George, 22 North Carolina A & T (Aggies), 8, 10, 13, 16, 17 North Carolina Central (Eagles), 8, 9, 16, 17 Oklahoma, 74 Oakland Alameda County Coliseum, 67 Oakland Raiders, 62, 67, 84, 85, 88, 91, 102, 103, 103–104, 104, 105, 105–106, 106, 107–108, 108, 109, 109–110, 111, 114, 137, 138–139, 139–140, 141, 143, 144, 145, 154, 155, 156, 156–157, 168, 172, 180, 214 Oates, Bob Jr., 44 Orange Blossom Bowl, 12, 16, 17 Orange Bowl Stadium, 60 Orlando, Florida, xv, 18 Otis, Jim, 158 Over Shift Defense, 51 Paine, Webber, Jackson & Curtis (Firm), 186 Parker, Jim, 23 Payton, Walter, 54 Philadelphia Eagles, 167 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 18, 167, 168

I N DE X

Philip Morris Agency, Inc. (Company), 172–173, 175, 176, 178, 179, 183, 184, 184–185, 186 Phillips, James, 14 Phillips, Jess, 76 Pitts, Frank, 62, 86, 105, 123 Pittsburgh Steelers, 153 Pivec, Dave, 78 Plunkett, Sherman, 23 Podolak, Ed, 155, 158, 159, 160 Prevent Defense, 58 Pro Football Hall of Fame, x, xi, xvii, 115, 193, 195, 197, 198, 200, 202, 203 Pro Football Hall of Fame Game, 196 Pro Football’s Greatest Weekend, 198 Pro Quarterback (Magazine), 151 Prudhomme, Remi, 125 Purple Gang, The, 133 Queen, Jeffrey, 20 Ray Nitschke Memorial Luncheon, 199 Redwood Forest, The, 115 Rhoden, William C., 43, 45 Richardson, Gloster, 61, 101, 121, 123, 139 Richardson, Willie, 23 Richmond, Virginia, 1, 2, 4, 5, 162, 169, 186, 198, 203 Richmond Times-Dispatch (Newspaper), 5, 6 Riggins, John, 154 Robinson, Eddie, 19 Robinson, Johnny, x, 64, 80, 96, 107, 117, 127, 151, 203 Ross, Frank, 206 Rozelle, Pete, 120, 170 San Diego Chargers, 42, 62, 64, 66, 72, 74, 80, 81, 143, 145, 148, 152, 153 San Francisco 49ers, 155, 171 Santa Barbara, California, 102 Sauer, George, 94 Savage, Roland, 20 Scott, Bo, 155 Scott, Jake, 160 Seattle Seahawks, 180 Shaft (Movie), 171 Shaw University (Bears), 11, 13

243

Shea Stadium, 92, 97, 99, 103, 154 Simpson, O. J., 54, 87 Smith, Charlie, 105 Smith, Noland, 59 Snell, Matt, 96, 97, 98 Southern Intercollegiate Conference, 12 Southern Methodist University (SMU), 76 Sport (Magazine), 151 Stabler, Ken, 172 Stack Defense, 51, 116, 124, 137 Starr, Bart, 25 Stenerud, Jan, 41, 59, 61, 87, 93, 103, 112, 125, 144, 157, 159, 160, 162 St. Louis Cardinals, 141 Stofa, John, 62 Straight T Formation, 63, 65 Stram, Hank, xvi, 25, 29, 32, 33, 35, 36–37, 37, 38, 39, 49, 51, 54–55, 57, 58–59, 60, 62, 62–63, 65, 66, 67, 71, 75, 76, 77–78, 79, 80, 81, 84, 85, 86, 87, 87–88, 89, 91, 92, 102, 103, 106, 112, 116, 122, 123, 124, 125, 128, 132, 132–133, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 140–141, 142, 144, 145, 147, 148, 151, 152, 153, 154, 156, 157, 165, 167, 172, 173, 196, 200, 203, 209, 210, 211 Super Bowl I, 25, 32, 33, 54, 75, 104, 113 Super Bowl II, 40, 104 Super Bowl III, 47, 114, 116, 119 Super Bowl IV, 113, 113–114, 115, 116, 118, 119, 122, 123, 124, 125, 128, 131, 132, 167, 187, 197 Superfly (Movie), 171 Swenning, William, 171 Syncreon (Company), 186 Talk of Fame (Podcast), xi Tangerine Bowl, xv, 17, 18, 19 Taylor, Otis, 38, 62, 83, 86, 101, 109, 123, 126, 139 TDS Automotive (Company), 186 TDS Logistics (Company), 186 TDS/US (Company), 186 Tennessee, 38, 245 Tennessee State University, 19 Tet Offensive, 47 Texas, 11, 38, 74, 197 Theokas, George, 171

244

Thomas, Duane, 137 Thomas, Emmitt, 38, 58, 64, 66, 94, 95, 108, 112, 203 Three Rivers Stadium, 169 Toma, George, 79 Trosch, Gene, 24 Troup, T. J., x, 176 Tulane Stadium, 113 Turner, Bake, 102 Turner, Jim, 93 Tyrer, Jim, 99, 111 Under Shift Defense, 51 University of Houston, 148 University of Maryland, xv University of Miami, 24 University of Missouri at Kansas City, 184 University of Notre Dame, 24, 32 Upshaw, Gene, 108 Vietnam War, 47 Virginia, xv, 1, 2, 3–4, 11, 162, 169, 186, 189, 198, 203 Virginia Sports Hall of Fame, 193 Virginia State College (Trojans), 4, 5, 8, 11, 13, 16, 17 Virginia Union (Panthers), 8, 10, 13, 16, 17

INDEX

Vitalis Scholaship, 170 Wade, Bob, 15, 19 War Memorial Stadium, 61 War Paint (Horse), 74 Washington, D.C., 9 Washington, Gene (Vikings), 117 Washington, Gene (49ers), 171 Washington, Mark, x, 21, 22 Washington Redskins, 151, 153 Wells, Lloyd, xvi, 38 Wells, Warren, 108, 112 West, Charlie, 125 West Chester, Pennsylvania, 18 West Chester University (Golden Rams), 18, 19, 20 Wiggin, Paul, 173, 175, 176, 177 William Jewell College, xvii Wilson, David (Morgan State University President), 191 Wilson, Jerrel, 125 Wilson, Nemiah, 105, 110 The Winner’s Edge (Book), 44 Wright, Elmo, 148, 158 Woody, Paul, 5, 6 Yarborough, Bobby, 44 Yepremian, Garo, 159, 161

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joe Zagorski was born and raised in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. He has been a member of the Pro Football Researchers Association since the mid-1980s and has written numerous articles for their monthly publication, the Coffin Corner. He also has written articles for the internet site Pro Football Journal. His first book, The NFL in the 1970s: Pro Football’s Most Important Decade, was rated one of the top-10 football books in 2016 by the Library Journal. His second book, The Year the Packers Came Back: Green Bay’s 1972 Resurgence was released in 2019. From 1986 to 1992, Zagorski was a sportswriter for the Coatesville (Pennsylvania) Daily Record newspaper and the Evening Phoenix newspaper in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. He also edits a Facebook page entitled the NFL in the 1970s. He currently resides in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

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