This Old Pro Proved a Real Catch for Bills

He is, certifiably, one of the three best to play his position, wide receiver.

Only one guy in pro football history--Steve Largent, no less--has more total yards receiving--and that lead is only 55 yards.

Only three guys have more career receptions: Largent, Charlie Joiner and Art Monk.

And, yet, the Washington Redskin cornerbacks Sunday may be pardoned for feeling they are dealing with a ghost--a galloping ghost at that.

You see, James Lofton has been pronounced professionally dead so often of late, you are surprised not only that he can catch footballs but that he can catch cold.

Pass catching is supposed to be a young man’s game. Receivers come into the league every year with the ability to run the 40 in 4.3, the 100 in 9.5 and have the vertical jump of a kangaroo.

James Lofton had all of the above when he came into the league from Stanford to join the Green Bay Packers.

Trouble is, that was 1978. By now, by all rights, James Lofton should be getting around with a cane, or be able to tell by knee twinge when it’s going to rain, or walk with a limp. He shouldn’t be spiking touchdowns in Super Bowls.

But, instead of being home wrapped in a blanket and hot-water bottle in front of the TV Sunday, James Lofton will be on screen. He’ll be out there, blowing past kids little more than half his age, putting on moves Nureyev would be proud of and reaching over helmets to catch 50-yard touchdown passes just as he has in three decades now.

He’s not quite the George Burns of football, but, given his age, 35, rival players can be excused for leaning over the line of scrimmage and saying, “Excuse me--but are you related to the James Lofton who played in the ‘70s with Green Bay?”

That was several Presidents ago. Russia was Communist, Germany was divided, Muhammad Ali was champion--and a young split end out of Stanford was terrorizing the NFL. Lofton caught three touchdown passes in his second pro game. He caught six that season.

Lofton’s career was all the more remarkable in that he wasn’t the receiving half of one of the great tandems of pro football history. Usually, when you stumble on a great receiver, you find a great passer on the other end. Even the legendary Don Hutson had Arnie Herber. Jerry Rice had, after all, Joe Montana. Raymond Berry had John Unitas. Elroy Hirsch had Bob Waterfield, Lynn Swann had Terry Bradshaw, Bob Hayes had Roger Staubach. James Lofton had guess-whos, quarterbacks-of-the-month throwing to him, mystery guests right off the bus.

Nevertheless, he caught 71 passes in 1980 and 71 again in 1981. These were no dump-off, outlet passes, these were lunar shots. He caught one for 80 yards and a touchdown and others of 79 and 75 yards.

He caught 530 passes in his Green Bay career. He caught them from mediocre quarterbacks, left-handed quarterbacks, scatter-armed quarterbacks. All Lofton required was that the ball be in the air. He rolled up more than 1,300 yards twice, 1,200 four times and 1,100 five times. Some people were double-teamed. Lofton was quadruple-teamed. Sometimes, it seemed as if he were team-teamed.

It was then that reports of his professional death became grossly exaggerated. Green Bay thought he had lost a step (even though he caught 64 passes and four touchdowns his last year there) and traded him to the Raiders for two so-what (third- and fourth-round) draft choices.

It was not a move for the Raiders’ highlight film. Sending another wide receiver to them was like sending ice to Siberia. “They had so many receivers, they needed two balls,” Lofton says. There was Willie Gault, Mervyn Fernandez, Todd Christensen, Tim Brown. The Raiders were lousy with receivers. As a matter of fact, they were lousy with quarterbacks, too. But, there, not in quantity, in quality. It was like having a Rolls-Royce with no engine. The Raiders had all these speedy receivers--and no one to get the ball to them.

When Lofton caught only 28 passes in 1988, the Raiders concluded this was proof he was through, although it was the opinion of those who saw them that it was akin to catching 28 flying saucers. They had all the pinpoint accuracy of a note dropped into a bottle at sea.

It was the ultimate failure to communicate, but the Raiders, so to speak, shot the messenger. They cut Lofton loose.

The only guy in the game who didn’t think he was washed up was the washee: Lofton. “I went to work with my track coach, Danny Daniels, in L.A. I knew I had a lot left. I kept up my speed work,” he recalls.

James Lofton had been an Olympic quality athlete in his youth, a near decathlete. He was the college long jump record-holder in 1978. He barely missed making the 1976 Olympic team (fifth in the trials). He ran 100 meters in 10.3, the 200 in 20.4 and the 400 in 45.7. He could have been an Olympian in Moscow if football (and Carter) permitted.

Catching passes is not all speed. It’s part cerebral. You rely on cunning, cutting, choreography. Lofton knew he had all of the above when he signed with the Buffalo Bills as a free agent two years ago.

For the first time in his career, he wasn’t a starter. But, for the first time in his career, he had a quarterback whose throws didn’t resemble notes tossed out of a top-floor window. If you got open, Jim Kelly hit you with the ball. It was a rare thrill for James Lofton not to have to look for the ball like a light switch in the dark.

It all came back. In his 36th year, James Lofton caught 57 passes this season for eight touchdowns. He caught one 77-yard touchdown pass, one 74-yard touchdown pass, he rolled up 220 yards in one game, he averaged 30 yards a reception against the Bears. He moved into second place in all-time receiving yards and fourth in all-time receptions. He helped put Buffalo in the Super Bowl for the second time.

One of the super matchups on Super Sunday will not merely be at quarterback, it will be at wide receiver, where it will put Lofton against Art Monk. Monk’s 71 receptions this year put him at 801. Lofton has 699.

It will be the gifts of these two wise men that might make the difference. But the difference between them is, nobody ever tied the can to Art Monk. No one thinks he’s his own grandfather or second-generation wideout. It’s Lofton they thought they had sent to his easy chair and his scrapbooks. That’s why they will want a blood test when they see him standing in the end zone Sunday wearing the football and this innocent look. They will wish the Raiders had kept him because Kelly-to-Lofton might mean a Super Bowl memory to make you forget Montana-to-Rice.