Call Him 275 Pounds of Receiver

The Los Angeles Raiders are a team lousy with receivers--Willie Gault, Mervyn Fernandez, Tim Brown, Sam Graddy, Ethan Horton, to name a few--all of whom can run the 100 under 10 seconds, two of whom were Olympic team sprinters, one of them a gold-medal winner.

They caught 14 passes among them in Sunday’s game against the San Francisco 49ers.

But you would have to say the key reception of the game was made not by one of them but by one of the Raiders’ receiving corps who can’t run the 100 under 20 seconds, goes 275 in his stocking feet, hardly ever gets open. He’s not normally in the pass patterns and he ran a poor route Sunday but still got to the ball. He has all this plaster all over his arm and hands, which makes catching difficult. He’s not Raymond Berry or Steve Largent to begin with. He doesn’t have good hands even unencumbered.

But he worked his way in the clear Sunday, shook off the defenders, reached up and made a dazzling over-the-shoulder catch. He fought off the double-team he always gets, tucked the ball away and started to swivel-hip his way downfield with his best Cliff Branch moves.

This reception made him no danger at all to Largent’s 819 receptions. It was only his third, lifetime. But, you have to remember the quarterbacks were aiming at those guys. He had to step into the pattern.

The Raiders’ newest outside threat? Well, ladies and gentlemen, introducing--a little fanfare, professor--Howie (So) Long!

Steve Young to Howie Long was the critical combination Sunday, not Steve Young to Jerry Rice.

Look at it this way: How often do you see the headline, “Quarterback Sacks Defensive End”? Seldom to never, right? Well, that’s what happened Sunday. Steve Young brought down Howie Long with an ankle tackle at the Coliseum, otherwise Howie might have scored the game’s only touchdown.

“Steve Young is the best open-field tackler I’ve ever seen,” said Long after the game, grinning. “If it wasn’t for him, I’d have gone all the way.”

The situation at the time was this: It was the second quarter, score tied, 3-3. The 49ers had the ball on the Raiders’ 24-yard line and were driving. Young faded to throw. The pass was one of those junk mail varieties. You know, addressed to “Occupant.” It had a nice spiral to it. It was meant to be a screen pass, one of those designed plays on which the offense lets the defense filter through and then, when it is slavering to obliterate the quarterback, he dumps it off to a waiting halfback secreted behind a wall of blockers.

Howie Long was hardly the designated receiver. He happened to be open, though, because he smelled the screen. The defensive maneuver was something he called a “double stunt.”

Now, Howie almost never sees the ball, let alone touch it. When he finds the ball, it is usually nestled in a death clutch in the arms of a downed quarterback. Sometimes, it’s rolling along the ground. Howie has fallen on seven fumbles in his career. He has fallen on about 200 quarterbacks.

When a defensive end acquires the football, the first thing you worry about is whether he will run the right way with it. Roy Riegels didn’t in the 1929 Rose Bowl and Minnesota’s Jim Marshall didn’t in a Viking game once.

Howie headed in the right direction. But not for long. He never got to spike the ball for his second touchdown. Steve Young upended him 59 yards short of pay dirt.

“I put a move on him, but he went for the ankles,” grumbled Howie. “I could have 12 career points today.”

Even with that interception, Howie is left far short of Paul Krause’s lifetime high of 81. But Krause was a safety.

Long’s lifetime has been devoted to seeing to it that the ball never gets in the air in the first place. When the quarterback lets go of the ball, normally his job is through. His only hope then is that his rush has been sufficiently successful to make the quarterback release the ball prematurely or, at least, nervously.

“When Steve Young pulls the ball down (aborts the pass and chooses instead to run), that’s when you got trouble,” advises Howie. “He’s a nightmare. He’s got such quick feet.”

In the complicated formulas of today’s pass defenses, teams sometimes sacrifice the pass rush in favor of the “nickel defense,” a scheme in which multiple small, defensive backs enter the game and the up-front mastodons or linebackers are removed.

“Not me,” explains Howie. “I’m the white dinosaur. I stay out there every play. My job is to get penetration.”

And to get the quarterback looking over his shoulder.

Young completed 18 passes to guys in the white jerseys Sunday and two to the other guys. Lionel Washington’s interception in the first minute of play stemmed a 49er drive but was inconclusive when the Raiders couldn’t capitalize. The Raiders then took Long’s interception down the field for a lead they never relinquished.

Long said that the defense’s strategy was to unsettle Young who was, after all, a backup playing in the absence of the great Joe Montana. Did Howie think he could have picked off a throw by Montana? He grinned. “Hey! I adjust,” he said. “I can catch the best of them. I caught (Warren) Moon and (Dan) Marino, didn’t I?”

The Raiders pay Howie Long to get the football with quarterbacks attached. They’re not likely to move him from defensive end to wide receiver. Still, Howie can say at contract time, “Hey! Who caught the winning pass in the 49er game?”

Of course, the team can counter that he might be the only defensive end in the history of the game ever to be knocked down by a quarterback. For football, that’s not only man bites dog, that’s zebra eats lion.