Today is the unofficial first day of the 2013-14 NFL
season. It's a preseason game, pitting the Dallas Cowboys against the Miami
Dolphins. It's also the day after the National Football League inducted its most recent class of honorees into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. I can remember a time when such exhibitions mattered. I was there when
football wasn't a full time job, but a passion that still required you to find
some other occupation between January and July to make ends meet (unless you were lucky enough to
play in the Super Bowl, then you put off getting together a resume and pounding the pavement until February).
Forty years ago,
the preseason was there to help still out of shape players polish their skill
set, to learn new offensive systems and "gel" with the other potential members
of the team. The Turk was still around, cutting the inadequate and putting the
unsuspecting on waivers, so every set of downs was imperative. For the coaches, it was
more than just a time to evaluate personnel. It was a chance to see if all the
off season brainstorming over the playbook and various offensive and defensive
schemes would work, or would lead to yet another disappointing season.
You see, my father was Abe Gibron, and while a Google
search will provide more specific information, I will hit the highlights for
you. He played for the Cleveland Browns and the Chicago Bears. With the former,
he won three National Championships (sorry - the Super Bowl didn't exist in the
'50s) and made the Pro Bowl four times. He was named an NFL All Pro in 1952,
1953, and 1954.
After he retired, he would go on to coach for Bill McPeak and the
Washington Redskins (where I was born in 1961) and George Halas and the Chicago Bears before becoming the
Head Coach of the Monsters of the Midway in 1972. After three dismal seasons he
was fired, languished in the WFL, and then found a new position with his friend John McKay and the
upstart Tampa Bay Buccaneers. He was there when the expansion team went 0- 26
and he was there when they went to the NFC title game against the Los Angeles
Rams in 1979.
That would be his last professional coaching gig. He was
fired, along with most of the staff, in 1984. He then was diagnosed with a
benign brain tumor that was affecting some of his motor skills. By today's
medical standards, the procedure would have been risky, but easily recovered
from. In my Dad's case, the operation caused him to lose the ability to speak,
and the various medications he had to take for prevention and maintenance caused
occasional mini-strokes. After a long battle with such lingering side effects,
he died in 1997. He was only 72. Though he was celebrated during his larger than lifetime, he
had by then become a forgotten fixture - as had many - from the earliest history of the NFL.
While the late Steve Sabol of NFL Films loved to point out that he kept a
picture of my dad on his wall (one of only two coaches enshrined there), no
other league organization had, or has, celebrated his tenure.
This year, for once, the Cleveland Browns will be
inducting my father into their hallowed Hall of Legends (I am not sure if I
have that right or not). As far as I know - and I have been out of the loop when
it comes to my dad's career the years since his death - he has not earned
such an honor anywhere else. Not at Washington, or his adopted hometown of
Chicago (he grew up 90 miles away, in tiny Michigan City, Indiana), nor in
Tampa. The last one is a bit biting when you consider he helped guide the
defiant defense (he was the line coach - specifically - Hall of Famer Leroy Selmon's coach)
for his entire tenure with the Bucs.
So I have started this blog for several reasons. One, in
memory of my father. We weren't always close, but I respect him as a player, a
coach, and as a man of football. Second, to suggest that his absence from the
Hall of Fame (or any such honor) is a fiasco of monumental proportions. He has the playing stats,
and while his coaching tenure might cost him some points, his love of the
game (and the recognition of same) should count for something. Finally, I
hope to change the myopic view of the current sports climate where every new
player is THE BEST EVER and every new winning team is a DYNASTY. The spoiled
millionaires of today are taking their inflated paychecks to the bank on the
backs of men like my dad. They helped created the billion dollar entertainment
industry we worship at today.They reaped little of the rewards.
Abe Gibron deserves to be in the National Football
League's Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. This blog will continue until he is.
BILL
As a Bears fan, I often forget that Abe was in fact, an NFL Championship decorated offensive lineman who played for Cleveland Browns, and was the class of his position while being "All-Pro" for several years. And to this day, I'm positively certain he was promoted by George Halas because of his defacto DC work in '71. Because he was so popular in the media and amongst his players, it still confuses me that he didn't produce more wins as a HC. But as a player, he certainly deserves HOF status. All great teams in the history of the NFL always had a great offensive line.
ReplyDelete