Dennis Taylor On the NFL
Monterey County (Calif.) Herald
Article Last Updated:04/20/2007 08:58:39 AM PDT
The story John Guzik tells about his body is one you're likely to hear from any 70-year-old man who once played in the National Football League.
He's had back surgery, in part because there's no cartilage left between many of his vertebrae. His neck doesn't move anymore, so he turns his entire torso to see behind him when he drives. His right knee has been surgically repaired. His teeth have been broken. His nose was busted three times. He once played a quarter-and-a-half of a college game with a broken arm. A shattered ankle ended his NFL career.
Like many players from his era, Guzik, who is in pain every day, receives no pension or medical care from the NFL because his career lasted fewer than four seasons. That's not a problem for him — he's made fortunate business decisions over the years, owns a home on the 13th fairway at Corral de Tierra Country Club, and lives a comfortable life.
But he says other players of his era are in dire straits, with broken bodies, no medical, little or no income, and no help from either the NFL or the NFL Players Association. That's a situation that needs to change, says Guzik, (who, for the first year since 1959, did not renew his membership with the Players Association). But neither the league nor the union seems to care.
"Football was good to me," said Guzik, with total sincerity. "I grew up in Hill Station, Pa., near Pittsburgh, which was a town of 900 people — all coal miners. As kids, we'd see those guys coming out of the mines, filthy dirty and spitting up blood. My high school coach (Val Rizzo) told us if we got good grades and practiced hard, he'd do what he could to get us out of that atmosphere."
And it happened. Rizzo helped 13 of his 23 players play college football. Guzik got a scholarship at Pitt, where he played in the Sugar Bowl and Gator Bowl, became an All-American, and was voted the NCAA's College Lineman of the Year. He was a co-captain at the Hula Bowl, the East-West Shrine Game and the College All-Star Game, where, as a graduating senior, he played against Johnny Unitas and the world champion Baltimore Colts.
The Los Angeles Rams drafted Guzik in the first round in 1959, signing him to the largest contract any team had ever offered a college lineman: $8,500 a year, with a $2,000 signing bonus. (He spent the bonus on a new Chevy Impala.)
Three years later, it was all over. Guzik, who'd been traded to Baltimore, was injured just 10 days into training camp in his second season. Two days after he got off his crutches, the Colts cut him. After one more stop, with the American Football League's Houston Oilers, he was all through.
"If you got hurt back then, they'd wait until you could put your shoes on and walk, and then you were gone," he said. "And that would be it — all of the ties were cut.
"The trainer would hand each of us our paycheck after every game, and the pay was week-to-week," he said. "There were no guarantees. You might not have a job when you came back to the practice field on Monday morning. I knew a lot of guys who just disappeared the week after they got hurt."
Players who played four full seasons in the league are vested, and in 2002, the league increased payments to 1,400 pre-1977 players to $200 per month (up from the previous maximum of $180) for each season played. The new deal failed to impress many former players.
"This is chump change we're talking about," said Eagles Hall of Fame linebacker Chuck Bednarik. "Our era built the NFL, and now they don't give a damn at all about us. We have been completely and utterly forgotten."
Indeed, more than 300 former stars — including many former superstars — still get less than $150 a month for the time they spent in the NFL because they were told by the players union that pro football players generally die young, and were ill-advised to accept more money up front, and a lot less later. Ex-Packers great Herb Adderley, a '60s-vintage cornerback who took that deal, receives $126 a month.
"Mine's pretty close to that," said Salinas native Joe Kapp, who quarterbacked the Minnesota Vikings to their first Super Bowl in 1970. "The money they send me every month doesn't even pay for the cerveza I drink. I mean, I'm happy to be alive, and I'm happy for my pain, because I understand what the alternative is, but most of the players who built that league receive nothing for it. Dick Butkus had to sue the league to get his knee fixed."
Many of those who played in the NFL 10-20 years later aren't much better off. Ex-Raider Mike Siani, a first-round draft choice in 1972, gets $492 a month.
And they're the fortunate ones. Players whose careers were cut shorter than four full years receive nothing.
"I actually did play in the league for four years — the first two as a full-time starter — but then I hurt my knee," said Monterey's Joe Soboleski, 80, a former All-America lineman at Michigan who played with the Detroit Lions, Cleveland Browns, Chicago Hornets, New York Titans and Washington Redskins in a career that began in 1949. "I started the first game of the year in my fourth season, got hurt again, and they let me go."
So Soboleski — who aches today from three knee replacements, five shoulder separations, five broken noses, and a couple of back injuries — gets no medical and no pension from either the league or the union. (He said the Lions, acting independently from the NFL or the union, offered to help him with one of his knee replacements a few years ago.)
Like Guzik, he's OK. Soboleski, a military veteran and former school teacher, has his medical needs and pension covered. But he, too, says he knows some of his former colleagues are in need.
"I think it's a rotten shame. The least they could do is help the guys who are hurting," he said. "But I'll tell you one thing: The Players Association isn't in favor of it, because it takes money away from their pot."
Said Adderley, "The current union has forgotten about the 325 guys who are receiving less than $150 a month. We are not included in any of the collective-bargaining agreements for increases that the other retired guys receive."
Indeed, Gene Upshaw, director of NFL Players Association, bluntly shrugged off the problem in a 2006 interview with the Charlotte Observer.
"The bottom line is I don't work for them," Upshaw said, referring to the retired NFL players who have asked him to help solve the problem. "They didn't hire me and they can't fire me. They can complain about me all day long, but the active players have the vote. That's who pays my salary."
Upshaw reportedly is paid $3 million a year to represent the interests of NFL players, but Guzik says most modern-day players couldn't care less about the plight of their NFL ancestors.
"Those guys are making so much money today — I made $770 a week, and they make that much in one minute — but when you talk to a current player, he'll generally just look down his nose at you," he said. "It's like, 'Sorry, buddy, but what do you want me to do for you?' That's a disheartening situation."
Kapp says he gets far-superior benefits from the Screen Actor's Guild for his brief Hollywood career, highlighted by a role in "The Longest Yard." He says the anger against the NFL and the NFLPA is widespread.
"Every old player is hurting, and every one of us is at least half-pissed," he said. "There are all kinds of stories out there about guys who are down and out, guys who need help. The NFL isn't a factory that makes cars. These guys are human beings."
Former NFL star Jerry Kramer has established the "Gridiron Greats Assistance Fund" to help struggling ex-players, and the NFL Alumni organization has created a similar program, called "Dire Need."
Meanwhile, the National Football League reportedly stands to make $25 billion over the next eight years from television revenues, alone. (The league recently christened its own network.) Additional billions will come from the sale of tickets, apparel and memorabilia.
The current collective-bargaining agreement expires after the 2007 season.
Monterey County (Calif.) Herald
Article Last Updated:04/20/2007 08:58:39 AM PDT
The story John Guzik tells about his body is one you're likely to hear from any 70-year-old man who once played in the National Football League.
He's had back surgery, in part because there's no cartilage left between many of his vertebrae. His neck doesn't move anymore, so he turns his entire torso to see behind him when he drives. His right knee has been surgically repaired. His teeth have been broken. His nose was busted three times. He once played a quarter-and-a-half of a college game with a broken arm. A shattered ankle ended his NFL career.
Like many players from his era, Guzik, who is in pain every day, receives no pension or medical care from the NFL because his career lasted fewer than four seasons. That's not a problem for him — he's made fortunate business decisions over the years, owns a home on the 13th fairway at Corral de Tierra Country Club, and lives a comfortable life.
But he says other players of his era are in dire straits, with broken bodies, no medical, little or no income, and no help from either the NFL or the NFL Players Association. That's a situation that needs to change, says Guzik, (who, for the first year since 1959, did not renew his membership with the Players Association). But neither the league nor the union seems to care.
"Football was good to me," said Guzik, with total sincerity. "I grew up in Hill Station, Pa., near Pittsburgh, which was a town of 900 people — all coal miners. As kids, we'd see those guys coming out of the mines, filthy dirty and spitting up blood. My high school coach (Val Rizzo) told us if we got good grades and practiced hard, he'd do what he could to get us out of that atmosphere."
And it happened. Rizzo helped 13 of his 23 players play college football. Guzik got a scholarship at Pitt, where he played in the Sugar Bowl and Gator Bowl, became an All-American, and was voted the NCAA's College Lineman of the Year. He was a co-captain at the Hula Bowl, the East-West Shrine Game and the College All-Star Game, where, as a graduating senior, he played against Johnny Unitas and the world champion Baltimore Colts.
The Los Angeles Rams drafted Guzik in the first round in 1959, signing him to the largest contract any team had ever offered a college lineman: $8,500 a year, with a $2,000 signing bonus. (He spent the bonus on a new Chevy Impala.)
Three years later, it was all over. Guzik, who'd been traded to Baltimore, was injured just 10 days into training camp in his second season. Two days after he got off his crutches, the Colts cut him. After one more stop, with the American Football League's Houston Oilers, he was all through.
"If you got hurt back then, they'd wait until you could put your shoes on and walk, and then you were gone," he said. "And that would be it — all of the ties were cut.
"The trainer would hand each of us our paycheck after every game, and the pay was week-to-week," he said. "There were no guarantees. You might not have a job when you came back to the practice field on Monday morning. I knew a lot of guys who just disappeared the week after they got hurt."
Players who played four full seasons in the league are vested, and in 2002, the league increased payments to 1,400 pre-1977 players to $200 per month (up from the previous maximum of $180) for each season played. The new deal failed to impress many former players.
"This is chump change we're talking about," said Eagles Hall of Fame linebacker Chuck Bednarik. "Our era built the NFL, and now they don't give a damn at all about us. We have been completely and utterly forgotten."
Indeed, more than 300 former stars — including many former superstars — still get less than $150 a month for the time they spent in the NFL because they were told by the players union that pro football players generally die young, and were ill-advised to accept more money up front, and a lot less later. Ex-Packers great Herb Adderley, a '60s-vintage cornerback who took that deal, receives $126 a month.
"Mine's pretty close to that," said Salinas native Joe Kapp, who quarterbacked the Minnesota Vikings to their first Super Bowl in 1970. "The money they send me every month doesn't even pay for the cerveza I drink. I mean, I'm happy to be alive, and I'm happy for my pain, because I understand what the alternative is, but most of the players who built that league receive nothing for it. Dick Butkus had to sue the league to get his knee fixed."
Many of those who played in the NFL 10-20 years later aren't much better off. Ex-Raider Mike Siani, a first-round draft choice in 1972, gets $492 a month.
And they're the fortunate ones. Players whose careers were cut shorter than four full years receive nothing.
"I actually did play in the league for four years — the first two as a full-time starter — but then I hurt my knee," said Monterey's Joe Soboleski, 80, a former All-America lineman at Michigan who played with the Detroit Lions, Cleveland Browns, Chicago Hornets, New York Titans and Washington Redskins in a career that began in 1949. "I started the first game of the year in my fourth season, got hurt again, and they let me go."
So Soboleski — who aches today from three knee replacements, five shoulder separations, five broken noses, and a couple of back injuries — gets no medical and no pension from either the league or the union. (He said the Lions, acting independently from the NFL or the union, offered to help him with one of his knee replacements a few years ago.)
Like Guzik, he's OK. Soboleski, a military veteran and former school teacher, has his medical needs and pension covered. But he, too, says he knows some of his former colleagues are in need.
"I think it's a rotten shame. The least they could do is help the guys who are hurting," he said. "But I'll tell you one thing: The Players Association isn't in favor of it, because it takes money away from their pot."
Said Adderley, "The current union has forgotten about the 325 guys who are receiving less than $150 a month. We are not included in any of the collective-bargaining agreements for increases that the other retired guys receive."
Indeed, Gene Upshaw, director of NFL Players Association, bluntly shrugged off the problem in a 2006 interview with the Charlotte Observer.
"The bottom line is I don't work for them," Upshaw said, referring to the retired NFL players who have asked him to help solve the problem. "They didn't hire me and they can't fire me. They can complain about me all day long, but the active players have the vote. That's who pays my salary."
Upshaw reportedly is paid $3 million a year to represent the interests of NFL players, but Guzik says most modern-day players couldn't care less about the plight of their NFL ancestors.
"Those guys are making so much money today — I made $770 a week, and they make that much in one minute — but when you talk to a current player, he'll generally just look down his nose at you," he said. "It's like, 'Sorry, buddy, but what do you want me to do for you?' That's a disheartening situation."
Kapp says he gets far-superior benefits from the Screen Actor's Guild for his brief Hollywood career, highlighted by a role in "The Longest Yard." He says the anger against the NFL and the NFLPA is widespread.
"Every old player is hurting, and every one of us is at least half-pissed," he said. "There are all kinds of stories out there about guys who are down and out, guys who need help. The NFL isn't a factory that makes cars. These guys are human beings."
Former NFL star Jerry Kramer has established the "Gridiron Greats Assistance Fund" to help struggling ex-players, and the NFL Alumni organization has created a similar program, called "Dire Need."
Meanwhile, the National Football League reportedly stands to make $25 billion over the next eight years from television revenues, alone. (The league recently christened its own network.) Additional billions will come from the sale of tickets, apparel and memorabilia.
The current collective-bargaining agreement expires after the 2007 season.
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