Reviving an L.A. Tradition

It has not been a good year for the Los Angeles Raiders. The team has stuttered on offense and backfired on defense, the owner and the coach don’t see eye to eye, the franchise is rumored to be packed and ticketed and ready to take off in any direction, including up. Have football, will travel. Send money.

But things are looking up. The team is about to have that most felicitous of personnel problems--a quarterback controversy.

There’s nothing that will do more for the mental health of a football franchise than having that kind of dissension in the backfield, confusion at the controls.

It made the Rams.

There’s nothing the customers like better than a storm over quarterback. It polarizes the constituency. It sells tickets. It piques interest, mobilizes public opinion. It’s a Los Angeles tradition.

It all began when the local team had two of the greatest quarterbacks in the history of football. Bob Waterfield and Norm Van Brocklin were so flawless directing a team, the coaches resorted to a ploy never seen before--nor since--alternating quarterbacks in alternate quarters.

That was all well and good--when the quarterbacks were Waterfield and Van Brocklin. It broke down quickly when lesser mortals were involved.

It didn’t even last through Van Brocklin’s tenure. As soon as Waterfield was gone and the club picked up Billy Wade in the bonus pick, the Coliseum would rock with “We want Wade!” whenever Van Brocklin missed a receiver.

That set the tone. L.A. crowds never cared who won or lost--just who was quarterback. They were implacable. Whoever was in there, they wanted out.

They ran Van Brocklin right out of town--to the Philadelphia Eagles, with whom he promptly won a championship.

Not that Wade was home free. As soon as he got the job, they turned on him. The Rams got Frank Ryan, a cerebral thrower from Rice Institute, and the minute Wade would throw an interception, or even an incompletion, the chant would go up, “We want Ryan!”

The Bolsheviks in the bleachers ran Wade out of town, too--he promptly won the championship with the Chicago Bears. They got Zeke Bratkowski in the trade for Wade, and it wasn’t long before Frank Ryan was hearing, “We want Zeke!’

They got Zeke. Ryan went to Cleveland, where he took part in several championship seasons.

Zeke didn’t last long. Roman Gabriel came along. But he had hardly settled in before the club drafted Bill Munson of Utah State and “We want Munson!” echoed in Gabriel’s ears.

Gabriel managed to hang on till John Hadl was coaxed up from San Diego and James (Shack) Harris was signed out of a Washington bureaucracy.

Harris complicated the relationship by being one of the first black quarterbacks, but the L.A. crowd showed they were an equal-opportunity band of vilifiers. They split their time yelling, “We want (Pat) Haden!” and “We want (Ron) Jaworski!”

Quarterback was not a fun position. When the Rams moved, they seemed to leave the hard-core Quarterback Haters Assn. of America behind because the Anaheim crowd seems relatively uninterested in the position. At least, Jim Everett has never had to listen to “We want (Steve) Dils!”

But there is hearty evidence the breed has not died out. They have merely been in hibernation, sharpening their fangs. They have come out of their caves in force.

When the Raiders came south in the season of ‘82, they weren’t much fun for the loyal society of QHAA. The Raiders (curses!) had Jim Plunkett, a certified Super Bowl QB, and that was hard to criticize. Then Marc Wilson came along and he was easy to criticize. The trouble was, Rusty Hilger was no improvement. “We want Rusty!” never carried much conviction. I mean, what if you got him?

But now along comes Jay Schroeder, for whom the team paid dearly, and he looks delightfully flawed to the ancient society of QHAA. He threw 13 interceptions last year, to the undisguised rapture of the quarterback haters. That’s something they can sink their teeth into. He can throw long, but his passes have a certain to-whom-it-may-concern aspect about them.

Steve Beuerlein, the party of the second part, the “other” quarterback--he does not accept backup --is a curious case. He is, certifiably, the best quarterback in Notre Dame history (most attempts, most completions, most yards), yet, for some reason, Notre Dame quarterbacks are regarded with some suspicion by the NFL.

Joe Montana, for instance, wasn’t drafted till the third round behind such legendary quarterbacks as Jack Thompson and Steve Fuller. Joe was picked 82nd. And Joe Theismann was picked 99th and had to go to Canada to play to get the NFL to take him seriously. Daryle Lamonica was picked 12th (by Buffalo). All three were Super Bowl quarterbacks but the NFL didn’t seem to get the message. Steve Beuerlein was picked 110th in his draft in ’87.

The NFL has, to say the most, a spotty record in recognizing talent in quarterbacks. They had to get John Unitas off a steam shovel. They picked Dan Marino after five other quarterbacks--John Elway, Todd Blackledge, Jim Kelly, Tony Eason and Ken O’Brien.

Beuerlein’s credentials were compromised by his having played in the Gerry Faust years at South Bend. Nobody ever mixed up poor Gerry with Knute Rockne. Beuerlein’s Irish teams ran up 5-6 records and never got higher than an Aloha or Liberty Bowl and climaxed the damnation of Faust by getting beat by Miami, 58-7. That did not exactly bring the pro scouts on the run.

Nor has Beuerlein’s career with the Raiders been a parade down Broadway. His first year, after a promising exhibition season, was complicated by an injury that sidelined him for the year.

Last year, after a start in which he threw for three touchdowns against the Houston Oilers and 375 yards against the Rams, the club rewarded him by reaching out and bringing in Jay Schroeder at great expense to management.

This year, going into the exhibition against the Chicago Bears, Schroeder had thrown 53 passes--and completed 23 of them. Beuerlein had thrown 32 passes--and completed 22 of them. Beuerlein’s percentage was .688, his average per pass was 10.69. Schroeder’s was .434, his average per pass 5.96.

Against the Bears, Beuerlein was all but strapping on his helmet as Schroeder semed to be wilting under the Chicago rush when, suddenly, Jay reared back and threw a moonshot to Willie Gault and brought the Raiders back from 20-0. He might have saved his season. The managing general partner of the Raiders is very partial to, so to speak, three-run homers.

It’s not likely to quiet the anvil chorus. “We want Steve!” is sure to come wafting out of the mustachioed, tattooed set in the end zone the minute Schroeder goes down under a rush.

In L.A., it’s not only Richard Dent and Dexter Manley and Lawrence Taylor who rush the quarterback. The real blitz comes from the seats. That rush makes the Fearsome Foursome look like a barbershop quartet.

I mean, this is a bunch who have made Norm Van Brocklin, Bill Wade, Frank Ryan and Roman Gabriel eat the football. Jay Schroeder looks like a sucker for a red dog from them. They figure to be able to make Jay Schroeder cough it up whenever they want. And there’s no penalty for roughing the quarterback where they’re coming from.