Bronko: Ultimate Football Players -- Nagurski Was Babe Ruth Of Football

PHILADELPHIA - We were in a Minneapolis hotel room, Johnny McNally and I, reliving his days as a Hall of Fame halfback with the Green Bay Packers and Pittsburgh Steelers.

We had filled almost four hours of tape and now it was after midnight. It had been a fascinating tour of pro football's early years; there was only one problem. I thought a few of McNally's stories seemed a bit, well, exaggerated.

``Which ones?'' McNally asked.

I mentioned four or five. All of them involved Bronko Nagurski, of the Chicago Bears. Like the one about Nagurski carrying five Packers on his back for 20 yards and not breaking stride until he reached the end zone. I said that didn't seem possible.

McNally leaned across the table and looked straight into my eyes.

``With Nagurski,'' he said, ``believe EVERYTHING you hear.''

So I did from that moment on, although I must admit it wasn't easy.

For example, several former Chicago players insist the 6-2, 235-pound Nagurski cracked the brick wall at Wrigley Field when he slammed into it following a touchdown run in 1934.

Then there was the story, told by McNally, about Nagurski trampling two Steelers en route to a score in 1937. One man suffered a broken shoulder, the other was knocked unconscious for 10 minutes. Said McNally: ``It was as if they were run over by a locomotive.''

Bronko Nagurski.

The name says pro football. We still use it as a point of

reference, as in: ``Yeah, so-and-so is OK, but he's no Bronko Nagurski.''

The late author, Charles Johnson, once called Nagurski ``the Babe Ruth of football,'' and it probably is true. The Nagurski legend has lost nothing over the last half-century. His speed and bruising power still define the game.

George Halas coached 20 NFL Hall of Famers, including Red Grange, Gale Sayers and Dick Butkus. Yet the late Chicago coach put Nagurski at the top of the list. Halas called Nagurski ``the greatest football player who ever lived.''

Nagurski, a fullback and linebacker, was bigger than most linemen, yet he was the second fastest man on the Chicago roster after Grange. He had a 19-inch neck and a massive chest. His thighs were like tree trunks. Said Halas: ``A lot of players have passed in front of me, but none with a build like that man.''

Nagurski rushed for less than 4,000 yards in his nine-year pro career, but that is misleading. He seldom carried the ball more than 15 times a game. He was used primarily as the lead blocker for halfback Beattie Feathers. It is no coincidence Feathers became the NFL's first 1,000-yard rusher in 1934, when he averaged a whopping 9.9 yards per carry.

``Bronko cleared the path, all I had to do was run'' Feathers once said. ``He had the most incredible natural strength I've ever seen. One day he gave me what he thought was a playful bop on the helmet and it knocked me down.''

Bronko Nagurski died last Sunday at age 81. He had spent the last 20 years living in a lake-front cabin near International Falls, Minn. It was a quiet, secluded place where the temperature usually dipped below zero in November and stayed there until March.

Nagurski liked the solitude. He almost never made public appearances and seldom granted interviews. In 1983, a local hotel opened a Bronko Nagurski room complete with a life-size portrait. Almost everyone in Kouchiching County showed up for the dedication except Nagurski, who went fishing.

``I heard the bass were really hitting,'' he explained.

His wife, Eileen, later admitted the obvious: Bronko just wanted to avoid the spotlight.

Nagurski had no use for fame. When he first retired from pro football in 1938, he bought a filling station in International Falls. He worked the pumps himself, usually wearing dirty overalls and a plaid wool shirt.

Most strangers had no idea who he was. Every so often someone would notice his hands (his size 19 ring is the largest ever ordered for the NFL Hall of Fame) and he would say something like, ``Oh, I used to play football,'' and that was it. End of discussion.

I saw Nagurski only once in person once. It was January 1984. The NFL invited him to Tampa to flip the coin before Super Bowl XVIII. Nagurski, then 75, was wary of all the hoopla, but he finally decided: ``I could use the trip to get out of the cold.''

Nagurski arrived in Tampa two days before the game, and Don Weiss, the league's executive director, asked if he would consent to a press conference. Weiss assured Nagurski it would be a small, informal affair. It took some prodding, much of it by Eileen, but finally Nagurski said OK.

There were about 40 journalists in the Hyatt ballroom when Nagurski came in. I was saddened to see the mighty Bronko hobbling on crutches, his arthritic knees making every step an effort. I recalled a quote from his former teammate, quarterback Gene Ronzani:

``Bronko had a bad knee and sometimes he would come limping back to the huddle. I'd ask him if he wanted a timeout and he'd say, `Timeout? Hell no, let's play football.' Then he would slap his knee on either side with that big hand of his, slapping the cartilage back into place. We'd shake our heads and away we'd go and Bronko would carry the ball.''

In 1943, with the war on and the Bears needing players, Nagurski, 35, came back wearing a steel brace to protect a sore back. He played offensive and defensive tackle, and in his first game, he knocked Green Bay fullback Ted Fritsch cold with a flying tackle.

The Bears lost both their fullbacks with injuries, so Nagurski had to carry the ball again. In the final regular-season game, he rushed for 84 yards, scored a touchdown and set up two others as the Bears routed the Cardinals 35-24. The following week, Chicago ripped Washington 41-21 for the title. Nagurski scored a touchdown in that game, too. That was it, his farewell to football. Fittingly, he went out on top.

Nagurski barnstormed briefly as a professional wrestler, then returned to his filling station, where he worked alone until his retirement 10 years ago. He spent his later years fishing and tending to his vegetable garden.

``Who was the best runner you ever saw?'' someone asked.

``That's easy,'' Nagurski replied. ``Red Grange. They didn't call him the Galloping Ghost for nothing. He was so fast and smooth. He was one of a kind.''

``What about you, Bronko?'' a voice called out.

``I was OK, I guess,'' Nagurski said. ``I wasn't pretty, but I did all right. Our teams won most of the time, so that was good.

``I know I'd love to do it all over again. I never enjoyed anything as much as I did playing football. I felt like it was something I was born to do.''