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Schlichter a Losing Gamble; Glick Didn’t Click

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Times Staff Writer

The Tampa Bay Buccaneers paid dearly for the first pick in last year’s NFL draft: a 2-14 record in 1985.

But then they used it to select Bo Jackson, a running back from Auburn who decided to play baseball with the Kansas City Royals, instead.

Farther south in Florida, the Miami Dolphins had to wait until the 52nd turn--almost the end of the second round--before they picked. Then they took linebacker John Offerdahl of Western Michigan, a gem of a rookie who called their defensive signals and went to the Pro Bowl.

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It’s not when you draft but how you draft that counts, and it doesn’t hurt to be lucky.

Being drafted on the first round is no guarantee of success. Look at flashy wide receivers such as Perry Tuttle (Buffalo Bills ‘82), Clyde Duncan (St. Louis Cardinals ‘84) and David Verser (Cincinnati Bengals ‘81); defensive back Rod Hill (Dallas Cowboys ‘82), running back Ethan Horton (Kansas City Chiefs ‘85), defensive end Ron Faurot (New York Jets ‘84), tackle Kevin Allen (Philadelphia Eagles ‘85) and tight end Ken McAfee (San Francisco 49ers ‘78).

All are going, going or gone.

Even being the first player chosen in the draft is not an automatic pass to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Only five of the premium picks in the 51 years of the NFL draft--Bill Dudley, Charley Trippi, Chuck Bednarik, Paul Hornung and O.J. Simpson--have made it to Canton, although recent retirees Terry Bradshaw, Lee Roy Selmon and Earl Campbell may soon follow.

There are many reasons why first-rounders fail.

Some never overcome chronic injuries, as was the case with Johnny Rodgers at San Diego after four years in the Canadian Football League.

Others, like Harold Lucas (Cardinals ‘66), eat themselves right out of the league, as William (The Refrigerator) Perry seems determined to do.

Drugs killed Don Rogers (Celveland Browns ‘84).

His obsessive gambling destroyed whatever chance Art Schlichter (Colts ‘82) had.

Perhaps Stanford quarterback Bobby Garrett, taken at the very top of the ’54 draft by Cleveland, possessed the most unusual flaw of all. He stuttered.

The Browns quickly traded him to the Packers, who sent Garrett to a speech therapist, to no avail.

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Then there was Joe Don Looney, whose surname was totally appropriate to his personality. The highly talented but eccentric Oklahoma halfback was the New York Giants’ top choice in ‘64, even though Bud Wilkinson kicked him off the team in his senior year.

In their 1983 book “Sleepers, Busts and Franchise Makers,” authors Cliff Christl and Don Langenkamp recount how Looney drove Coach Allie Sherman to distraction by refusing to learn the plays.

“A good back makes his own holes,” Looney told Sherman. “Anybody can run where the holes are.”

Looney also spent time with the Baltimore Colts, Detroit Lions, Washington Redskins and New Orleans Saints before disappearing into his own world, sleeping in cemeteries and tending elephants in India.

The first round of an NFL draft, especially, is sort of like looking for gold nuggets in a mine field, blindfolded. And the biggest nuggets--quarterbacks--are most apt to blow up in your face. For every Jim McMahon or Phil Simms that will ultimately lead your team to a title, there are a dozen Rich Campbells (Green Bay ‘81) or Jack Thompsons (the Throwin’ Samoan, Cincinnati ‘79).

How can that be, when quarterbacks are the most visible players of all? Their talents and flaws and statistics are there for everyone to see and judge.

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“They’re in a fish bowl,” said Jack Faulkner, the Rams’ administrator of football operations who has been tracking pro talent for 32 years. “It’s the same with all skill position guys. You can see their stats, and you become mesmerized by them. Big deal. When they come in here it’s altogether different for them.

“A quarterback has to fit into the system, and it’s essential that he learn the system. He may be the greatest looking thing ever, but if a coach says, ‘He’s not picking it up, I can’t waste any more time with him,’ he loses out.”

For many years in the early days of the draft, Notre Dame fed a stream of quarterbacks to the NFL: Angelo Bertelli, Frank Dancewicz, Bob Williams, Ralph Guglielmi, George Izo, Johnny Lujack, John Huarte. All but Huarte were first-round selections. All but Lujack failed to produce, and he had only modest success.

Paul Hornung was the first Notre Dame quarterback to become a pro star--at halfback. Daryle Lamonica, Joe Theismann and Joe Montana, who were not first-round picks, came later.

Names of first picks who flopped are legend whenever old drafts are rehashed. Notre Dame defensive end Walt Patulski (Bills ‘72) and Colorado A&M; defensive back Gary Glick (the bonus pick, Pittsburgh Steelers ‘56) are inevitably mentioned.

Glick was one of a series of 12 bonus choices in the NFL from 1947 through ’58. Before the draft started in those years, there was a drawing to determine which one of the dozen existing teams got a shot at any player in the country. Each team got one turn.

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Only four of those bonus beauties--Bednarik, Leon Hart, Kyle Rote and Hornung--paid off.

Faulkner recalled: “In those days we all met in the same place to draft--no phones across the country. When the Steelers said, ‘Gary Glick,’ everybody in the room turned and asked, ‘Who?’ ”

Glick hung on inconspicuously with the Steelers for four years, possibly because they were too embarrassed to admit their error and cut him, which is often the case with first-round mistakes.

Closer to home, the value of some ’86 first-round selections is still uncertain. Raider defensive end Bob Buczkowski missed the season with a back injury, and Ram offensive lineman Mike Schad, a raw talent from Canada, missed training camp as a holdout and was later put on injured reserve. Neither contributed, but they will have to soon.

Especially with today’s high salaries. Faulkner said, “A lot of teams now are going to eat their mistakes. Why dwell on ‘em?”

In that sense, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers didn’t come out so badly drafting Bo Jackson. He didn’t cost them a cent.

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