Peter J. Kaplan
6 min readOct 4, 2020

GALE SAYERS, THE KANSAS COMET AND EARL CAMPBELL, THE TYLER ROSE

“Just give me 18 inches of daylight. That’s all I need.”

— Gale Sayers

In 1965, Gale Sayers’ rookie season with the Chicago Bears, he scored an NFL-record 22 touchdowns: 14 rushing; 6 receiving; and one each on punt and kickoff returns.

He gained 2,272 all-purpose yards establishing an NFL record for a rookie, with 1,371 of that yardage coming from scrimmage.

Sayers averaged 5.2 yards per rush and 17.5 yards per reception and his return averages were 14.9 yards per punt return and a league-high 31.4 yards per kickoff return.

To say that he could do it all, would be a bit of an understatement.

Remarkably, his NFL career consisted of only 68 games played over seven seasons (1965–1971) though multiple injuries effectively limited him to the equivalent of five seasons of play.

In each of his last two years, he played in two games. Two games each season.

At 28 he was done. Through.

All done and all through.

Earl Campbell was the first overall selection in the 1978 NFL Draft chosen by the Houston Oilers out of the University of Texas.

Known for his aggressive, punishing running style and his uncanny ability to break tackles, he was an immediate success and gained recognition and acclaim over his eight-year professional career spanning 115 games played, as one of the greatest power running backs in NFL history.

In his rookie season he led the league in rushing with 1,450 yards, including an 81-yard long run for a TD (i.e. he wasn’t tackled through the line of scrimmage, nor more importantly, was he caught from behind), also the league-best.

In 1979 it was more of the same — even better — as he again was the NFL’s rushing champ, totaling 1,697 yards and 19 touchdowns — also a league-high — with a long gainer of 61 yards for a TD.

But it was 1980 when the big man went berserk.

Those tree-trunk legs were churning like mad.

Campbell led the NFL in four categories with 373 rushing attempts good for 1,934 yards, a 5.2 yd. per carry average and 13 touchdowns.

The workhorse back never had a receiving touchdown to his credit — he wasn’t used that way for obvious reasons — and was all through after the 1985 season.

Done, done, way done.

In retirement he came very close to being all done — as in dirt-nap done.

“I had a style all my own. The way I ran, lurchy, herky-jerky, I kept people off-guard so if I didn’t have that much power when I hit a man, hell, he was off-balance and I could knock him down.”

— Gale Sayers

In Sayers’ truncated career his stats were astonishing, highlighted by 9,435 combined net yards; 4,956 yards rushing; and 336 points scored.

The personal awards bestowed upon him boggle the mind and are far too many to enumerate.

When he hung up the cleats he was the NFL’s all-time leader in kickoff return yards…in the equivalent of five seasons played.

He averaged over 31 yards per kickoff return in three of those years topping out at 37.7 in 1967. (In 1968 and ’69 the numbers were 27.1 and 24.2 respectively).

In 1977, at age 34, Sayers became the youngest player inducted into the Hall of Fame, platinum status that remains uniquely his to this day.

Oh yes.

From his arrival in 1965 to his departure in 1971, the Chicago Bears posted a record of 41–54.

The Tyler Rose had plenty of difficulty — physically — after his playing days were over.

No surprise really.

But still.

The 5–11, 244-pound double-sized bowling ball with 36-inch thighs and 4.6 speed was indeed the most feared runner of his time. “A one-man demolition team.”

“I did something to my body to get that [injuries and subsequent substance addiction] and you know what I did. I think some of it came from playing, football, playing the way I did.”

Both knees replaced.

Four back surgeries.

Spinal stenosis.

Painkiller addiction.

Rehab for painkiller addiction.

Campbell, who lost his father when he was 11, was desperate to please.

To please Longhorn coach Darrell Royal.

To please Oilers and then Saints coach Oail Andrew (O.A.) “Bum” Phillips.

To please his mother.

To please Dick Butkus.

Wait, what???

That’s right. As a high school junior he was playing linebacker.

“I was the black Dick Butkus,” he said proudly. “That was my hero, Dick Butkus.”

In his senior season the team needed a running back.

Case closed.

Immediately he was steamrollering linebackers but didn’t really embrace the position until his coach promised him he could play both ways.

He led his team to an undefeated season and the Texas 4A State Championship in 1973.

Heavily recruited, Campbell agreed to in-home visits from Texas coach Royal and Oklahoma’s Barry Switzer, ultimately choosing to attend Texas.

Switzer, who lost out, remarked in his 1989 book (“Bootlegger’s Boy”) that Campbell was the only player he ever saw who could have gone straight to the NFL from high school and immediately become a star.

His exploits at Texas are well documented and in his senior season he earned unanimous All-America honors among numerous other accolades and won the 1977 Heisman Trophy.

Fours were wild: he finished his college career with 4,443 rushing yards and 40 rushing touchdowns in 40 games over four years. (He averaged 5.8 yds/carry however).

An eight-year NFL Hall of Fame career followed and not surprisingly, serious health issues arose in later life.

With his aggressive running style which favored running over people rather than around them, there were questions and concerns regarding how long Campbell could remain healthy.

“He runs with a lot of reckless abandon,” observed the late, great halfback Ron Johnson who in 1970 became the first player in New York Giants history to rush for 1,000 yards.

His own career derailed by injury, he continued, “You can run like that in college. But you can’t do that for 10 years and hope to survive.”

Prophetic.

Steelers running back Franco Harris echoed the sentiment.

“Knocking over people can look very good but you can’t do it forever. Sometimes it’s going to be somebody else who knocks you over…so the most important thing I think isn’t to get a few extra yards every time but to make sure you’re healthy enough to play.”

As was his wont — and knowing on which side his biscuit was buttered — Coach Phillips dissented.

He favored Campbell’s running style.

“I’ve been looking for a back like Earl,” he said. “I’m not going to change his style. Why would I? You don’t want a guy who gets hit and then flops on the ground. Earl does the same thing other backs do, only better.”

This from the mouth of the same guy who characteristically remarked of Campbell, “I don’t know if he’s in a class by himself, but I do know that when that class gets together, it sure don’t take long to call the roll.”

Or on Campbell’s inability to finish a 1-mile run, “When it’s first and a mile, I won’t give it [the ball] to him.”

And finally commenting on his Heisman Trophy backfield of George Rogers and Campbell in New Orleans, “Rogers sees daylight. Campbell makes daylight.”

Phillips’ catchy quotes and pearls of wisdom aside, Earl Campbell developed some serious health problems as he aged.

By 2001, at 46, he could barely close his fists due to arthritis in his hands. He suffered foot drop, a gait abnormality, due to nerve damage in his legs. He experienced difficulty bending his back and knees. He was diagnosed with spinal stenosis in 2009. Because walking had become increasingly tough, he has been using a cane or a walker and for longer distances he must rely on a wheelchair.

In 2009 he became addicted to painkillers prescribed for his spinal stenosis, taking as many as 10 OxyContin a day washed down with plenty of Budweiser.

He went through rehabilitation, conquering his addictions, and since publicizing his travails in 2013 has been a vocal proponent of the dangers of substance abuse.

Gale Sayers, addled by dementia for some time, died at 77 on September 23, 2020.

Earl Campbell is still active in Earl Campbell Meat Products, Inc., a company he founded in 1990 which manufactures and sells “Earl Campbell’s Smoked Sausage” and other food products as well as barbeque sauce.

A restaurant he opened with associates in 1999 located on Sixth Street in Austin called Earl Campbell’s Lone Star BBQ closed in 2001.

In today’s world, awareness has been dramatically heightened regarding the havoc football can wreak on the brain and body. Knowledge and understanding are far greater at this moment in time than when these two legends of the game were strutting their stuff.

Just the same, it may be safe to assume that neither the Kansas Comet nor the Tyler Rose would have changed a thing, even if they could have.

[This piece was written by Mr. Kaplan in October 2020.]

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