Football History

James Lofton's career was a masterclass in longevity and excellence. Born July 5, 1956 James is a towering figure both literally and figuratively, Lofton carved his name into the annals of NFL history as one of the most prolific wide receivers of his era. His journey, spanning 16 seasons and five different teams, is a testament to his unwavering dedication and remarkable athletic ability.

Lofton's brilliance started at Stanford University, where he not only excelled on the gridiron but also captured the NCAA long jump title in 1978. His athleticism caught the eye of the Green Bay Packers, who drafted him sixth overall that same year.

Lofton's impact on the Packers was immediate. He formed a potent receiving duo with Don Hutson, stretching defenses with his impressive size (6'4") and blazing speed. He quickly earned the nickname "The Gentle Giant" for his quiet demeanor off the field, contrasting with his dominance on it. Lofton racked up Pro Bowl appearances and All-Pro selections, becoming a reliable target for quarterbacks like Lynn Dickey and Bart Starr.

In 1983, Lofton achieved a remarkable feat, leading the league in receiving yards with a staggering 1,749. This record-breaking season cemented his status as an elite wide receiver. Despite his individual success, the Packers struggled to find consistent postseason success during Lofton's tenure.

In 1987, after a well-publicized off-field incident, Lofton was traded to the Los Angeles Raiders. While his time with the Raiders and subsequent stops with the Buffalo Bills, Los Angeles Rams, and Philadelphia Eagles wasn't as statistically dominant, he continued to be a valuable contributor. He defied age expectations, becoming the oldest player in NFL history to record a 1,000-yard receiving season in 1991 at the age of 35.

Lofton retired in 1993, holding the NFL record for career receiving yards (14,004) at the time. His 764 career receptions placed him third all-time. More importantly, he left a legacy of a player who could dominate games with his size, speed, and precise route running.

Lofton's impact transcended statistics. He was a pioneer for tall wide receivers, demonstrating the potential for players with his build to excel at the position. His quiet leadership and dedication to the game earned him respect throughout the league. In 2003, his enduring legacy was recognized with his induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

James Lofton's career wasn't defined by flashy headlines or a Super Bowl ring. It was a story of steady excellence, defying expectations, and leaving a lasting mark on the game of football. He exemplified the phrase "gentle giant," showcasing a lethal combination of size, athleticism, and dedication that continues to inspire wide receivers to this day.

The life and career bio of College Football Hall of Fame Running Back Ricky Bell. Born April 8, 1955, in Houston, Texas, was Southern Cal’s stellar running back Ricky Bell. Bell had some true perseverance to become a gridiron star and his versatility paid off huge.

Ricky originally reported to USC as a linebacker when he was a freshman. The coaching staff, noticing offensive potential flipped him over to the offensive team and used him as a fullback to block for Anthony Davis. By the time his junior season came around Ricky was the Bell Cow back, no pun intended, for the Trojans.

According to the National Football Foundation, in 1975 he led the nation in rushing with 1,875 yards, became a unanimous All-American, and placed third in the Heisman voting. In the postseason, he was named MVP of the Liberty Bowl. The following season, during his senior year, Bell placed second in the Heisman balloting and repeated as a unanimous All-America selection. Bell set a single game school record with 51 carries and 347 yards against Washington State and went over 100 yards on the ground in 16 different games of his collegiate career. Ricky Bell received the great honor of being selected for inclusion into the College Football Hall of Fame in 2003.

At the 1977 NFL Draft the Tampa Bay Buccaneers used the number one overall pick to claim Ricky for the franchise. He played six seasons for the Bucs and then tragically passed away due to cardiac arrest caused by a rare skin disease.

Born May 12, 1872, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, was Princeton University’s guard from 1892 to 1894, Art Wheeler. Wheeler in college found himself at the pinnacle of early football as the Yale Bulldogs riding a 37 game winning streak were about to test the 10-0 Princeton Tigers that Art was a member of for the season’s finale in 1893.

The FootballFoundation.org describes that without question the 1893 national championship would go to the winner of this game. Time after time, the Princeton defense responded to Yale scoring threats as a guard named Arthur "Beef" Wheeler led the charge. Yale's great end, Frank Hinkey, was rendered ineffective and the Elis streak ended with a 6-0 Princeton triumph.

Wheeler was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 1969.

George McAfee wasn't your typical football player. In an era of specialization, he defied categorization. Nicknamed "One-Play McAfee" for his ability to single-handedly change the course of a game, McAfee's career was a dazzling display of versatility and dominance. This essay explores the life and legacy of this unique talent, a player who carved his name in football history with both power and finesse.

McAfee's athletic prowess was evident early on. He excelled in basketball and track, but it was on the gridiron at Duke University that he truly blossomed. Leading the Blue Devils to a perfect 24-4-1 record in his three years, McAfee earned All-America honors and established himself as a national sensation. The 1938 season was particularly remarkable; Duke remained undefeated until the Rose Bowl, where a late touchdown by USC prevented a perfect season.

McAfee's skillset was unparalleled. He was a breakaway running back with deceptive speed and power. His hands were as sure as any wide receiver, making him a dangerous threat in the passing game. He even lined up defensively, recording interceptions and displaying a knack for disrupting plays. This all-around excellence made him a nightmare for opposing teams.

In 1940, McAfee's professional career began with the Chicago Bears. Despite a brief hiatus for World War II service, he solidified his legacy in the NFL. He became the league's punt return champion, averaging a staggering 12.78 yards per return – a record that still stands today. His impact extended beyond statistics; his infectious energy and leadership qualities made him a fan favorite.

McAfee's legacy transcends mere stats and accolades. He was a pioneer in the game. He championed the use of low-cut shoes, believing they improved his agility, a concept now commonplace. His dominant play as a two-way threat helped pave the way for the evolution of more versatile players in future generations.

While his career was tragically cut short due to injuries, George McAfee's impact on football is undeniable. He was a player unlike any other, a master of all trades who embodied the spirit of the game. Nicknamed "One-Play McAfee" not because he was a one-dimensional athlete, but because his talent was so explosive, he could single-handedly turn the tide of a game. His versatility, leadership, and enduring records solidify his place among the NFL's greatest, a true legend who continues to inspire players and fans alike.

A questionable number 2 overall pick for George Halas in the 1940 NFL Draft. George McAfee established himself as a homerun, by In his first exhibition game, returning a punt 75 yards for a touchdown with just seconds remaining to defeat the Brooklyn Dodgers. McAfee was a star for the Bears.

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If you look back at successful football programs from a century ago you can always find those players that personified the school and the era. For the Golden Gophers it may be the legendary Ed Rogers that fits this mold.

Minnesota football Legend Ed Rogers. Born April 14, 1876, in Libby, Minnesota, was the standout end of Carlisle Indian Industrial School from 1896 to 1898 and with Minnesota from 1900 to 1903, Eddie Rogers.

Eddie was raised as a free spirit as his mother was a native American from the Chippewa tribe and his father was a lumber jack in the wilds of the pioneer frontier according to his bio on the NFF’s website. This rearing set his athleticism and ability to quickly react to almost any situation for his later life including his time on the gridiron. Rogers time with the Redman teams of Carlisle helped take the Institution’s football program to national prominence almost a full decade before Jim Thorpe attended the school and a year or two before Pop Warner started his coaching tenure there as well. As a member of the Golden Gophers in 1903 Eddie’s Minnesota team had a 11-0-1 record. In 1904 Rogers was head coach at Carlisle, and had a 9-2 record. The following year he returned to Minneapolis and began practicing law. He practiced law 62 years, 1905- 66, retiring at the age of 90. Eddie Rogers received the great honor of being selected for inclusion into the College Football Hall of Fame in 1968.

George McAfee's name might not be etched in the NFL's record books, but his impact on the game in the early 1940s is undeniable. McAfee's career, marked by versatility and innovation, helped pave the way for the emergence of the dual-threat running back in the NFL.

Hailing from Duke University, McAfee arrived in the league with the Chicago Bears in 1940. Standing at a sturdy 6 feet and weighing 200 pounds, he possessed a unique blend of power and speed. While primarily a running back, McAfee's skillset extended beyond the backfield. He excelled as a kick returner, a punter, and even played some defense. This versatility made him a valuable asset for the Bears, allowing them to utilize him in various offensive and defensive schemes.

McAfee's most significant contribution lies in his innovative running style. Unlike the typical straight-ahead rushers of the era, he incorporated lateral movements and jukes into his game, confusing defenders and creating space. His ability to catch passes out of the backfield further expanded his offensive repertoire, a concept that would become commonplace in future decades.

McAfee's career was tragically cut short after just four seasons due to a serious knee injury sustained during World War II. Despite the brevity of his playing time, his impact is undeniable. He is credited with helping to redefine the role of the running back, showcasing the effectiveness of a player who could not only run the ball with power but also contribute in the passing game and on special teams.

The legendary back that played for Duke University and the Chicago Bears was so good at both levels that he is inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame and the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

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The story of Jack Butler and his rise to stardom for the Pittsburgh Steelers. A sample of the early Pittsburgh Steelers history.

Jack Butler, a name synonymous with the Pittsburgh Steelers, etched his mark in the annals of NFL history. Drafted by the Steelers in 1952, Butler's career was a testament to his exceptional talent and unwavering dedication. As a cornerback, his ability to intercept passes and disrupt opposing offenses was unparalleled.

Butler's tenure with the Steelers was marked by consistent excellence. His knack for reading quarterbacks' intentions and his lightning-fast reflexes made him a nightmare for opposing wide receivers. His interceptions and forced fumbles were instrumental in securing victories for the Steelers.

Beyond his on-field prowess, Butler's contributions to the NFL extended far beyond his playing days. His post-career involvement in scouting and player evaluation played a crucial role in shaping the league's talent pipeline.

His insights and expertise were invaluable to teams across the NFL.  

In recognition of his outstanding career, Jack Butler was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2012. His legacy as a Steelers legend and a pillar of the NFL will continue to inspire generations of football fans and players.

Claude Henry K. "Buddy" Young wasn't just a football player; he was a living, breathing, touchdown-scoring metaphor for defying expectations. Standing at just 5'4" and 163 pounds, he was the NFL's shortest running back ever, an underdog who rewrote the rulebook with every electrifying run.

Born in Chicago in 1926, Young was a natural athlete, excelling in both baseball and track. His size, however, made football seem like a distant dream. But that dream shimmered closer when Young's speed on the track, where he even tied the world record for the 60-yard dash, caught the eye of the University of Illinois.

In Champaign, Young transformed from track star to gridiron marvel. Nicknamed the "Bronze Bullet" for his explosive bursts of speed, he averaged nearly 9 yards per carry as a freshman, a record that stood for decades. He led the Illini to a Big Ten championship and a Rose Bowl victory in 1946, proving that size didn't define greatness.

After a stint in the Navy, Young embarked on a professional career that defied all odds. Despite being drafted in the Special Draft to avoid competition with taller players, he carved out a nine-year NFL career with the New York Yankees, Dallas Texans, and Baltimore Colts.

Young wasn't just a novelty; he was a weapon. He averaged over 4.5 yards per carry, rushed for over 40 touchdowns, and even returned a kickoff for 104 yards, an NFL record at the time. He could dance through tackles, leave defenders grasping at air, and disappear into the end zone in a blink.

Beyond his on-field exploits, Young was a trailblazer. He was the first African-American athlete on the Baltimore Colts roster, paving the way for future generations of players. His talent and grace challenged stereotypes and shattered prejudices, proving that greatness comes in all packages.

After his playing days ended, Young continued to serve the NFL as a player relations executive, sharing his wisdom and experience with a new generation of athletes. He passed away tragically in a car accident in 1983, leaving behind a legacy of courage, determination, and an undying love for the game.

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Timothy P. Brown of Football Archaeology visited us recently to tell the story of one of his recent Tidbits about paying players at the collegiate level a century before the NIL.

In the video, Tim discusses how college football players have been getting paid under the table for many years. He mentions that in 1929, the Carnegie Foundation issued a report criticizing the underground payment system, but it was largely ignored due to the Great Depression.

This video is a fascinating look at the history of paying college football players. It is clear that this is a complex issue with a long history and that there are many different opinions on the matter.

Transcribed conversation with Timothy Brown on Paid College Players over a century ago

Hello, my football friends! Welcome again to The Pig Pen, your portal to positive football history. It is Tuesday, and we are happy to say that Timothy P. Brown of FootballArcheology.com has joined us again to talk about another of his great tidbits. Tim, welcome back to The Pig Pen.

Darin, thank you. It was good to see you again, hear your voice, and have the opportunity to chat a little bit. Yeah, this is, you know, the football seasons are winding down in all leagues here.

This is this coming weekend. We have the Super Bowl coming up. You know, we're actually recording a couple of weeks ahead of time, but we know who the participants are. And, you know, it's not so good for your neck of the woods. You know, the Lions had a great season and just didn't work out their way at the end of the game of the NFC Championship.

Unfortunately, I grew up a Packers fan, and they bit us the week before, and then the Lions. So I don't know that I really care anymore about either team that's in there. Sometimes, that's what makes it fun.

If you have no vested interest in it, you just sit back and hope for good football and enjoy the athletes, some of the great things they do, and what happens. And, you know, you're not worried one way or the other if something bad happens. Yeah.

Yeah. My daughter, who grew up in Detroit
 but lives in San Francisco, kind of couldn't lose in that game. So, hopefully, she's got a continued rooting interest, but not for me.

Yeah. What are you going to do? Well, paying players—you know, these players in the NFL are getting paid quite a bit, and it sort of segues into what we're going to be talking about now. We know that college players are getting paid with the NIL contracts and everything, but you have a story in one of your tidbits from a little while back where you talk about some players getting paid in college almost a hundred years ago.

And maybe you'd like to discuss that with us today. Yeah. Well, you know, I think it, the idea of paying somebody to participate in sports, particularly at the college level, I mean, that's as old as people, you know, from the day that people said, hey, it's important for my college to be your college.

From that moment, they started finding ways to ensure that good athletes attended this school or that school. You know, and for a long time, it was an informal process. You know, there used to be a banker in town who would send, you know, pay for a kid to college.

And geez, if he happened to be a good athlete and went to Old State U, that was great. But, you know, they, you know, they're also like way back in the day, you know, top student-athletes often were like, they'd be like agents for cigar manufacturers or chewing gum manufacturer, you know, any, anything that was sold on campus. And then if they could influence people's buying behavior, you know, they got paid money, you know, for that kind of thing.

And there's a lot of that kind of stuff going on. And then, obviously, there were the easier no-show jobs that guys had. But so, I mean, there's always been kind of the under-the-table thing.

And then, in 1929, there was a big report. The Carnegie Foundation, you know, reported on college football, basically criticizing all of this underground payment, you know, system and, you know, having guys there who maybe weren't the greatest students, et cetera. And so the one, the funny thing about that, I mean, it was one of those things that kind of just ignored.

I mean, the Great Depression started shortly after they issued the report. So people kind of had, you know, bigger problems too, you know, to worry about. But there were, you know, a handful of people, professors, you know, folks directly involved in athletics who were kind of saying, we should pay these guys, you know, they should get a percentage of the gate or, you know, they should get, there was a guy at Missouri who said, you know, the players should get $2 per hour for practice.

Now, that doesn't sound like much, but it'd be the same as $36 an hour today, you know, beer money, you know, for a college athlete. And then there were a couple of student newspapers, Minnesota and UCLA, that came out saying, hey, you know, the football players in particular, they subsidize all other sports, which was true at most bigger schools at the time. And I've, you know, I've got documentation on that that I'll probably put out in another tidbit.

But so anyways, you know, and then others were just arguing like, you know, football in particular, and then later on basketball and baseball, they had, they were commercialized, you know, they were professionalized in every way other than paying the players. The coaches got big-time money, and people had to pay money to attend the games. And, you know, then they started selling video rights, and then they started selling TV rights.

So, you know, there were these pots and pots of money. So, if you look at a big-time college athletic program, that is a pro program. You know, it's run by professionals.

In some ways, it's run for professionals, right? And the only thing that wasn't professional about it was that the athletes didn't get paid. They got a scholarship, you know, at bigger schools, and then eventually they'd get some spending money and, you know, dah, dah, dah. But nothing like what their actual market, you know, power was.

And so now that this NIL is out there, you know, all of a sudden, guys are, you know, starting to make some pretty good money. Some guys are better off staying in college an extra year than signing some, you know, low-level rookie contracts. Now, then their pro contract, that clock starts, you know, doesn't start clicking or, you know, ticking for another year.

But, you know, somebody tells me I can make whatever, a million bucks through NIL, you know, versus, you know, whatever, you know, 800,000 or whatever the current rookie contract is worth, you know, you got to think about. So, it's just really, um, it's been a long time coming, right? And like myself, I don't necessarily like some of the things that are going to, the impact it will have on the game. But that's just selfishness, you know, whereas the kids deserve the money, you know, just like artists or, you know, musicians, or a kid who invents, you know, writes a piece of software or whatever, you know, TikTok sort of influencer, whatever, you know.

Anyway, it's one of those funny things. It's that conflict that has always existed, but now it's more or less out in the open.

So I think that's good. Yeah. Cause, uh, I mean, if it wasn't for the student-athletes, people wouldn't be paying to go watch an empty football field or basketball court or whatever event they're going to.

So yeah, those kids deserve it, and they work hard. And, uh, you know, I was kind of surprised though. You know, I knew when the NIL was coming out that, uh, you know, players were going to be getting paid, but I had no idea there was going to be as lucrative for, for some of these folks as it is in the, uh, I was astounded the LSU gymnast.

Uh, and I forget what her name is. She's on a couple of commercials now and is a social influencer. She's making millions, uh, just by her likeness and image.

So it's amazing. Yeah. And, you know, some people will get that money based on, frankly, what they look like, right?

Uh, others, you know, their personality, just their, you know, obviously she had to be smart enough to, I mean, she's a very attractive young lady. Still, you know, she figured out the game and, uh, was doing some, you know, you know, she, she's, you know, I mean, I've never watched herself, but I assume she's got to have a presence and delivery, whatever it is. Right. Um, she was so smart enough to take advantage of that and the situation she was in.

So yeah, more power to her. Yeah. He has a couple of extra bucks left over after buying the school books each semester.

That's for sure. Yeah. She didn't even have to sell her school books in the old days.

Great. Well, that's, I mean, that's interesting that it's been around that long that, uh, you know, the debate's been long for a hundred years now. So that's, uh, it's incredible.

That's why it's such a great read. And maybe you could share with the listeners how they, too, could partake in your tidbits. Yeah.

You can subscribe on Substack or visit footballarchaeology.com whenever you want. You can also follow me on Twitter, so whatever fits your fancy.

Well, Tim, we really appreciate you coming here and sharing another one of these great stories of football and aspects of football of, of old that, uh, you know, really have big meaning in today's college football world. And, uh, we appreciate you, and, uh, folks, make sure you check out FootballArchaeology.com. We have the links in the show notes to this tidbit, and it takes you into Tim's realm of FootballArchaeology.com, which you talked about. And Tim, we would love to talk to you again next week about another aspect of football.

Very good. Look forward to chatting again.

Chuck Taylor wasn't just a name on a shoe, he was a football force who left his mark on both sides of the game. This Stanford alumnus wore many hats throughout his career, shining as a player, coach, and athletic director.

Taylor's journey began on the gridiron at Stanford in the 1940s. Playing as a fullback, he displayed impressive versatility, showcasing both power and athleticism. He even participated in the iconic 1941 Rose Bowl victory against Nebraska, solidifying his place in Stanford football history.

But Taylor's true calling lay in coaching. After serving in the Navy during World War II, he returned to Stanford as a freshman coach and quickly climbed the ranks. In 1951, at the young age of 31, he became the head coach, making him the youngest person to ever hold that title at the time.

His coaching tenure was marked by both triumphs and challenges. Taylor led the 1952 Stanford team to the Rose Bowl, earning him the coveted AFCA Coach of the Year award. He instilled a culture of discipline and toughness, building a formidable program.

However, injuries and internal conflicts hampered his later years as head coach. He stepped down in 1957 and transitioned to administrative roles, eventually becoming the university's athletic director from 1963 to 1971.