By Tom Danyluk
July 28, 2004

Football is back, as NFL training camps have swung their doors wide open. A good time to gather some of the old vets around the campfire and stir up the ashes. Here’s who decided to stop by:

RB Delvin Williams — A slasher who showed occasional flashes of greatness. Logged years with the 49ers (1974-77) and Dolphins (’78-80). Led the NFC with 4.9 yards per carry in ’76. Laments leaving the game too early, with good tread still left on the tires.

RB Jim Kiick — Workmanlike tailback from Don Shula’s Miami teams that ruled the early ’70s. A steady receiver who could work the seams. Played college ball at Wyoming. “They called me ‘Cowboy’ when I first joined the Dolphins. I’d say, ‘I’m no cowboy! I’m from New Jersey!’ ”

LB Phil Villapiano — A shark with blood in the water who played with relentless pursuit. Part of the Oakland Raiders’ invasion that dominated the AFC West throughout the 1970s. “I had only one goal,” he said. “That was to make the tackle on every play.”

DE Jack Youngblood — Anchored the L.A. Rams’ defensive line for 14 seasons (1971-84). Known for his mountain-man toughness, disruptive instincts and nonstop motor. One of the best of any era; at least the Pro Football Hall of Fame thinks so.

Head coach Bum Phillips — Leader of the Houston Oilers during the hee-haw days of “Luv Ya Blue.” Made back-to-back appearances in the AFC title game in ’78 and ’79. A legend still revered in the Space City.

Head coach Jack Patera — The first coach of the expansion Seattle Seahawks, a team remembered for its offensive hocus pocus. “With our lack of talent,” he said, “we had no choice but to get creative, give ’em the Globetrotters’ routine.”) Prior duty was as DL coach for Minnesota’s famed Purple People Eaters. Fired during the players’ strike of ’82 and never returned to football. 

What follows are some tales from summers past:

The taskmasters

Delvin Williams: “It was Monte Clark’s only year as 49ers head coach, 1976, and he worked us beyond belief. He was on a mission. I’m not sure if that mission was to get us in shape or to kill us in the San Jose heat. I’ll give you one word — gassers. Back and forth across the width of the field, that counted as one. And we ran those gassers in bunches. I’ll be happy if I never hear that word again.”

Jim Kiick: “Shula had this infamous 12-minute run he made us do in camp. It was ridiculous. I used to bitch about it all the time. I mean, who ever runs for 12 straight minutes during a football game? There was always some rookie, though, who would sprint for two miles, and Shula would say, ‘See that? There’s a guy who wants to make this football team! We need more people like him!’ And, of course, Flash Gordon would always be one of the first guys cut. Happened every year. … One year I had pretty bad allergies. Larry Csonka and I were running this thing together, and after about three laps I couldn’t breathe anymore, so I stopped. Well, Zonk figured it was a good time for him to stop running, too. Shula stormed over like a maniac. ‘There’s no way two people get tired at exactly the same time! No way! Now get going!’ It was one of the few times I ever agreed with him.”

Phil Villapiano: “I don’t know where Ray Malavasi came from, but he had no clue how to coach outside linebackers. I think he coached at Army or something. He was brutal, a 5-8 guy who never could have played the position, but here he was, wearing me down to nothing. Talk about taskmasters! … The first time I met him was during rookie camp. The Raiders had bought this new tackling machine with a dummy on big coil springs. We were wearing no pads, and Malavasi lines me up and tells me how to hit this machine, to basically take it on with my face. I go charging at the thing; then he pulls the lever, and this dummy comes at me like a freight train. I almost snapped my neck! I’m thinking, ‘Who the hell is this guy?’ ”

The rookies

Jack Youngblood: “It was the ’76 camp. I was standing next to (head coach) Chuck Knox, looking at all the ‘newly acquired,’ the rookies. He was standing there with a cigar in his mouth, watching a linebacker named Kevin McLain from Colorado State, our first-round pick that year. Then Knox mumbled something like, ‘Sumbuoy swit da baybee.’ I couldn’t understand what he said. What? A baby?  He took the cigar out of his mouth and said, ‘Somebody switched the baby. See McLain over there? That ain’t the baby I ordered.’ He thought something had gone wrong with his player. All the scouting reports told him he was getting this monstrous, 6-4, 245-pound middle linebacker. The guy that showed up in camp was more like 6-1, 210. He couldn’t play. Another Brian Bosworth type.”

Phil Villapiano: “There are so many Charles Philyaw stories from his rookie year. He was a big defensive end, 6-7, supposed to be the next Bubba Smith. I loved that guy — just a big, beautiful, nice person. But was he ever on the wrong team with the Raiders. The veterans really took advantage of him. … One time during practice he mentioned that he was getting hungry. Our fullback, Pete Banaszak, told him to go see George Blanda, that ol’ Blanda was in charge of getting all the sandwiches. Imagine — a rookie asking a 25-year veteran to go get him a sandwich. Blanda really snapped at him. ‘Get the !#%& outta here, you dumb SOB!’ ”

Delvin Williams: “It was my rookie year. I got poked in the eye during practice and went to see the trainer. No big deal, but the trainer wanted to take a look at it. He said, ‘You’ll be fine, but I want you to finish practice wearing these sunglasses.’ So I put on the sunglasses, then put my helmet back on and went back to the field. (49ers coach) Dick Nolan saw me and came running over. ‘What the hell are you doing, Williams?! Get those damn sunglasses off!’ … ‘But … but the trainer told me.’ … ‘I don’t care what the trainer told you! Get those things off and get back on the field! What’s the matter with you?!’ … It was a setup. Very funny.”

A sad farewell

Bum Phillips: “My toughest cut was letting (QB) John Hadl go. We had picked him up in a trade to be a veteran backup for Dan Pastorini. I knew John from way back when I was coaching in San Diego. We had him for two years in Houston; then in ’78 we drafted a kid named Gifford Nielsen that we felt was smart and good enough to play behind Dan. We couldn’t afford to keep three quarterbacks, so we gambled and kept Gifford. Cutting John was like cutting an old friend. … I’ll tell you my dumbest cut, too. It was getting rid of Steve Largent. I thought he was a darn good player, but I let one of my assistants talk me out of keeping him. He convinced me we needed guys with more speed. More speed. … I guess Largent was slow enough to walk himself into the Hall of Fame.”

Phil Villapiano: “I joined the Raiders as a rookie in ’71, and they had a veteran linebacker named Duane Benson who really worked his ass off helping me through camp. Really went out of his way. The coaches had Duane penciled in as a starter, but I ended up playing pretty well during the preseason. Then he got a little nicked up, and all of a sudden the Raiders traded him to Atlanta and put me in his place. I was really down about it. I thought, ‘What a ruthless bunch of (expletive)ers.’  … Later John Madden called me into his office and said, ‘Phil, always remember this is a business. Duane will be OK, and you’ll be OK.’ It worked out for me, but I’ll never forget that guy.”

Jack Patera: “Nick Bebout was the toughest player for me to release. Nick was a big OT from Wyoming who was with me from our expansion season, a guy that you just liked to have around the team. Great enthusiasm, worked as hard as he could, gave his best effort. Everyone liked him. He just didn’t quite have the talent that we needed to build a real good offensive line. … After we released him before the ’80 season, I knew we made a mistake. We should’ve kept him around for another year instead of going with a rookie (OT Andre Hines), who we thought had more talent and would eventually develop. He never did.”

Strange but true

Jack Youngblood: “Changing head coaches in the middle of training camp was really something. (Owner) Carroll Rosenbloom had hired George Allen in ’78, thinking he was the piece that would finally get us over the hump. Well, that idea lasted for about four or five weeks. Things weren’t working out between them. … Then one day I was coming to dinner after practice, and Rosenbloom had pulled his car up and was standing on the lawn. I said, ‘Hi, boss man, how you doing? Coming to dinner with us?’ … He said, ‘Nope. But I’m gonna fire that SOB.’ … I thought, ‘Let me get outta this man’s way right now.’ I could tell he was not in a good mood. … Rosenbloom went up to the coaches’ offices and fired Allen right there. It was a very strange three or four days, the inmates running the asylum. Actually, we had a veteran football team, and things went as smoothly as could be expected. The assistants weren’t going anywhere, so they did their thing. We had a preseason game coming up, so it was pretty much all business. Then Ray Malavasi was named head coach, and we were back in business.”

Delvin Williams: “It was the end of two-a-days, and things were slowing down in practice. We were standing around, watching the field-goal team get some work. There was some high brush at the end of the field. … All of a sudden, this naked woman jumped out of the weeds wearing nothing but a 49ers helmet. (Dick) Nolan didn’t see her at first, but the guys all started laughing. She ran up to us and picked up the ball and handed it to Dick. He didn’t know what the heck was going on. He stood there with this look on his face. Then she just turned and ran off the field. The 49ers — victimized by a streaker.”

Tom Danyluk is a free-lance sportswriter based in Chicago. He is currently working on a book about pro football called "The Super ’70s.” He can be contacted at danyluk1@yahoo.com.