Gwinnett Daily Post
Gwinett Co., Ga.
By Nate McCullough
02/23/2007
A biography that is as much an examination of another era as it is an account of a man's life has been a welcome respite for me the past few days in the midst of the incessant reports on train wrecks Anna Nicole and Britney. And yes, I left their last names out on purpose because a surname is unnecessary for either at this point.
"Johnny U: The Life and Times of John Unitas" by Tom Callahan chronicles the life of the legendary Baltimore Colts quarterback, a man many recognize as the best quarterback who ever lived. Anytime you invoke superlatives like "best" or "greatest" you invite debate, and I'm sure cases can be made for other players' claims to the title. What can't be disputed, however, is Unitas embodied a different sort of ethic and class that is completely lacking from modern celebrities.
Unitas retired before I was out of kindergarten, so I can't say I grew up a fan from watching games. What I knew of him came mostly from ESPN Classic, NFL Films and the occasional book that listed his records on the football field, of which there were many. What I can say is I've always admired the man for his achievements on the field and his physical toughness. Now I can add to that his integrity.
Among the many anecdotes in Callahan's book:
" Early in his career Unitas was cut from a team without being given a chance to play. He went to the coach and told him what he thought of the decision. After letting off steam he later went back looking for work on the practice squad because he needed a job.
Can you imagine Terrell Owens doing that?
" During a game, Unitas noticed one black player was visibly upset in the huddle and asked him what was wrong. The player said a guy on the opposing team was calling him racial slurs. Unitas instructed his lineman to let the offending player through on the next play. He then delivered some gridiron justice with a well-placed bullet pass to the forehead.
" When a fellow Colt was caught stealing from players' lockers every man voted the thief off the team, except Unitas, who said, "He's a teammate. He's got a family," and then went about saving the player's job.
Despite his hatred of the sin, Unitas went to bat for the sinner. How would the same situation turn out these days? Probably a gunfight in the locker room.
"In the twilight of his career, with bad legs and an ailing throwing arm, Unitas had his rights bought by San Diego, who signed him to a two-year contract for twice as much money as he'd ever before received. Knowing how hurt he was, right before putting his name on the contract, Unitas asked the Chargers' owner, "Are you sure you want me to sign this?"
Imagine Barry Bonds trying to turn down $30 million to come back for one last hurrah. You can't.
"While in San Diego, Unitas was at a party with his leg in a cast when he found out cocaine was being snorted in one of the rooms. Another player said the greatest record Unitas ever set was for how fast he went down three flights of steps on one leg trying to get away from the drug users.
The stories go on in "Johnny U." Unitas did work on his neighbors' houses. He gave strangers rides home. When he told his first wife about a family member having cancer, she said, "So what?" He divorced her, telling a newspaper columnist - off the record - "I'll never sleep with that woman again."
He played in charity golf tournaments on one condition - that they allow his son to play. He sent his sister hand-made birthday cards. He made time for his friends, family and fans. Autographs were a given for people that met him. All they had to do was ask.
Later in life, his throwing hand a gnarled claw from injuries, nearly broke because the greedy NFL refused (and still refuses) to pay out decent pensions to old-timers who are disabled, Unitas started making paid appearances at different events so he could have an income. It was at one of these shows that I met him.
I forget exactly what the fee was, but I know it wasn't much, maybe $20. While I waited in line I watched Unitas shake hands (left-handed), pose for pictures, smile at each person and painfully sign autographs. He held the Sharpie between his fingers and sort of balanced it with his thumb. He grimaced with each stroke.
But every autograph was a beauty, spread all the way across the photo and clearly legible, unlike the scribble most stars give you today, if they sign at all. I left with a signed picture and a big grin.
Unitas succumbed to heart disease a few years ago, so you can no longer get an autograph. But you can still meet him by picking up Callahan's book.
As for me, I've met a lot of famous people in my life, and I've always counted Unitas as one of the highlights. For years I've told people that I once met the world's greatest quarterback.
Now I'll tell them I met one of the world's great men as well.
Gwinett Co., Ga.
By Nate McCullough
02/23/2007
A biography that is as much an examination of another era as it is an account of a man's life has been a welcome respite for me the past few days in the midst of the incessant reports on train wrecks Anna Nicole and Britney. And yes, I left their last names out on purpose because a surname is unnecessary for either at this point.
"Johnny U: The Life and Times of John Unitas" by Tom Callahan chronicles the life of the legendary Baltimore Colts quarterback, a man many recognize as the best quarterback who ever lived. Anytime you invoke superlatives like "best" or "greatest" you invite debate, and I'm sure cases can be made for other players' claims to the title. What can't be disputed, however, is Unitas embodied a different sort of ethic and class that is completely lacking from modern celebrities.
Unitas retired before I was out of kindergarten, so I can't say I grew up a fan from watching games. What I knew of him came mostly from ESPN Classic, NFL Films and the occasional book that listed his records on the football field, of which there were many. What I can say is I've always admired the man for his achievements on the field and his physical toughness. Now I can add to that his integrity.
Among the many anecdotes in Callahan's book:
" Early in his career Unitas was cut from a team without being given a chance to play. He went to the coach and told him what he thought of the decision. After letting off steam he later went back looking for work on the practice squad because he needed a job.
Can you imagine Terrell Owens doing that?
" During a game, Unitas noticed one black player was visibly upset in the huddle and asked him what was wrong. The player said a guy on the opposing team was calling him racial slurs. Unitas instructed his lineman to let the offending player through on the next play. He then delivered some gridiron justice with a well-placed bullet pass to the forehead.
" When a fellow Colt was caught stealing from players' lockers every man voted the thief off the team, except Unitas, who said, "He's a teammate. He's got a family," and then went about saving the player's job.
Despite his hatred of the sin, Unitas went to bat for the sinner. How would the same situation turn out these days? Probably a gunfight in the locker room.
"In the twilight of his career, with bad legs and an ailing throwing arm, Unitas had his rights bought by San Diego, who signed him to a two-year contract for twice as much money as he'd ever before received. Knowing how hurt he was, right before putting his name on the contract, Unitas asked the Chargers' owner, "Are you sure you want me to sign this?"
Imagine Barry Bonds trying to turn down $30 million to come back for one last hurrah. You can't.
"While in San Diego, Unitas was at a party with his leg in a cast when he found out cocaine was being snorted in one of the rooms. Another player said the greatest record Unitas ever set was for how fast he went down three flights of steps on one leg trying to get away from the drug users.
The stories go on in "Johnny U." Unitas did work on his neighbors' houses. He gave strangers rides home. When he told his first wife about a family member having cancer, she said, "So what?" He divorced her, telling a newspaper columnist - off the record - "I'll never sleep with that woman again."
He played in charity golf tournaments on one condition - that they allow his son to play. He sent his sister hand-made birthday cards. He made time for his friends, family and fans. Autographs were a given for people that met him. All they had to do was ask.
Later in life, his throwing hand a gnarled claw from injuries, nearly broke because the greedy NFL refused (and still refuses) to pay out decent pensions to old-timers who are disabled, Unitas started making paid appearances at different events so he could have an income. It was at one of these shows that I met him.
I forget exactly what the fee was, but I know it wasn't much, maybe $20. While I waited in line I watched Unitas shake hands (left-handed), pose for pictures, smile at each person and painfully sign autographs. He held the Sharpie between his fingers and sort of balanced it with his thumb. He grimaced with each stroke.
But every autograph was a beauty, spread all the way across the photo and clearly legible, unlike the scribble most stars give you today, if they sign at all. I left with a signed picture and a big grin.
Unitas succumbed to heart disease a few years ago, so you can no longer get an autograph. But you can still meet him by picking up Callahan's book.
As for me, I've met a lot of famous people in my life, and I've always counted Unitas as one of the highlights. For years I've told people that I once met the world's greatest quarterback.
Now I'll tell them I met one of the world's great men as well.
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