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Bradshaw: Genius for Winning

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When Terry Bradshaw came into the league, the NFL didn’t know what to make of him. Neither did his coach, Chuck Noll, nor his team, the Steelers.

It was hard to take him seriously. Here was this big, happy-go-lucky character right out of L’il Abner, with this perpetual grin on his face, a wide-eyed almost innocent stare and he was chatty and hyperactive. Guys were getting ready to sell him the Brooklyn Bridge. He resembled nothing so much as a cheerful puppy with a new rag to play with.

He was so far removed from the stereotype of a pro quarterback--the dour, silent Sammy Baugh; the calculating Sid Luckman; the charismatic boulevardier, Joe Namath; or the all-American Boy Scout, Roger Staubach, that they figured he simply didn’t understand the situation. He was just a down-home Louisiana boy in over his head.

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When they heard he had tried and couldn’t get into Louisiana State University, they concluded the problem was cerebral. Terry was just dumb. If you gave him a quiz, “Farmer Jones had five apples and Farmer Smith had 10 apples, how many apples would they have between them?” Terry would be stuck for an answer. Rival player Hollywood Henderson once cracked: “Terry Bradshaw couldn’t spell cat if you spotted him the c and the a .”

Terry just laughed along with everyone else--and went out and became, probably, the best and maybe the smartest quarterback in pro history. He didn’t lead in records. He just won. His record of four Super Bowls in six years--all of them won--might never be surpassed. Joe Montana had four Super Bowl victories in nine years. Roger Staubach had four Super bowls in eight years but lost two.

Pittsburgh never came close to a Super Bowl after Bradshaw left, even though the Steelers had a lot of guys at quarterback who could tot up the farmers’ apples.

Bradshaw even had trouble persuading his coaches he could read--a blitz anyway. “I loved a blitz,” Terry chortles today. “I always knew who would be open and where he would be open.”

But the coaching staff was skeptical. They kept giving the ball to Jefferson Street Joe Gilliam and Notre Damer Terry Hanratty. They left Terry on the bench, presumably to play with his paper dolls.

Bradshaw is in the Hall of Fame today and bringing to TV, for high fees, the same kind of guileless, but honest, approach to the game that gave him his reputation for naivete in the first place. Terry Bradshaw is about as naive as Chase Manhattan Bank, but outrageous comment is still a part of his personality. Some Bradshaw observations:

--On his dumbness: “I didn’t like it, but the dumber they thought I was, the easier their defenses were to read. I called my own signals. How dumb could I be to do that? How many guys today call their own signals? I’ll tell you--none.”

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--On the violence to quarterbacks: “To tell you the truth, I like to see ‘em get hit. Football is not a game for the meek. It’s a very physical game, and that’s the way we had to play it. I’m against a rule change to protect the quarterback any more. I don’t know of a rule change that’s ever been passed to help the defense. It’s always the offense. Next, they’ll be outlawing the blitz like they do in the Pro Bowl to beef up the offense. The only change I’d like to see is the intentional-grounding. A quarterback ought to be able to throw the ball out of bounds or in a safe place when everybody’s covered. You can do it in the last two minutes. Why not all 60?”

--On the current crop of quarterbacks: “There are very few great quarterbacks. There are few great anythings. You have Joe Montana and Jim Kelly. You have lots of great arms out there, but the arm is no better than the head it’s attached to. I’m not convinced Bobby Hebert is a great quarterback. Steve Young still has to get to a Super Bowl. He’s four behind Montana. On the other hand, I think Jim Everett should be the comeback player of the year. I think he’s a quarterback just coming into his best years.”

--On what a quarterback has to have: “Size is No. 1. Smarts is No. 2. Then, you have to be emotional. You let the guys know you really care. Don’t be afraid of an emotional outburst. Don’t point fingers or make excuses. But don’t be ashamed to laugh or cry. It’s an emotional game, after all. But you don’t hang out with the guys. I didn’t hang. You have a beer with a guy, and the next day you have to tell him to shut up in the huddle. I didn’t hang with the guys after the game. Then, you have to have confidence. You can’t play this game thinking what might go wrong. I never did. Every pass was going to be a touchdown.” (Something like one out of every nine of his completions resulted in a touchdown.)

--On what made him so successful: “A good line! Jon Kolb, Mike Webster, Gerry Mullins. But I could read coverages. Those guys years ago, when they played, had only three things to worry about. The defense rotated to the left or to the right and had single coverage and played 10 yards off the receiver. I played by feel. You have to have a feeling for what’s possible out there and exploit it. The defense tries to confuse you today, but I got so I could feel what they were up to. Anybody can throw 60 passes a game and lose. You had to sense when it was the right time to run the ball. I could smell it when a run was going to catch them off balance. Sometimes, I’d run it myself.”

Bradshaw was in town for a ceremony at City Hall. He is going to be honorary chairman of the Super Bowl XXVII Touchdown for Youth Committee. This is a program subsidized by L.A. businessman to take 750 youths age 12-15 from the inner city and treat them to a day at the Super Bowl next month, complete with a ticket, transportation, a meal and participation in the halftime show of Michael Jackson’s. The only way most of them could get to a Super Bowl (ticket: $175) would be to play in it.

Terry Bradshaw has been in four. That makes him a Phi Beta Kappa in his own way. The NFL found out the hard way. Even now, it’s not a good idea to underestimate Terry in any way. If you play golf, get strokes; if you play cards, cut them. And he can count, all right. All the way up to $2 million.

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