Let the Snake In

Spring 2003

Let The Snake In

Ken Stabler Unjustly Excluded from Hall

By Mark Bryant

Except for Roger Staubach, there was no other NFL quarterback with a greater knack for come from behind wins than Kenny "The Snake" Stabler, until Joe Montana came along.

Except for the Pittsburgh Steelers, the Oakland Raiders' nemesis in the 1970's, The Snake would have in all likelihood won more than one Super Bowl ring.

Stabler, nonperil leader and point man for the most feared team in football during this era, was a colorful character and winner. He has been duly honored by being nominated as one of the 50 most significant Bay Area sports figures of the twentieth century.

The Snake is also remembered fondly by football fans for having the effervescent cool of a lion tamer as he time and again marched the Raiders down the field in the closing moments of some of the most famous finishes in football history.

Except for one glaring omission. The Snake has yet to be named to be the pinnacle of NFL careerdom- the Hall of Fame.

And national sentiment does not appear to be on his side, nor does it look to increase any time soon.

"Though he was an exciting quarterback, his time at the top was too short to merit serious consideration for the Hall of Fame," San Francisco Chronicle writer Glenn Dickey said in his biography of Raiders history: Just Win Baby: Al Davis And His Raiders.

Say what?

Ken Stabler was drafted by Oakland in 1968 from the University of Alabama, where he led the Crimson Tide to a national championship under the tutelage of legendary Paul "Bear" Bryant. He was a late-bloomer with the Raiders, because he was stuck behind Daryle Lamonica and George Blanda. He didn't get going until 1973, when Coach John Madden inserted him into the starting lineup to boost a suddenly anemic offense early in the season.

No such problems existed as long as the Snake was behind center. In seven years as the Raiders' starting quarterback, he led the Silver and Black to five straight AFC Championship Game appearances, five consecutive division titles and seven straight winning seasons.

NFL MVP in 1974. The Sporting News AFC player of the year in 1974 and 1976. A Super Bowl championship season in 1976. AFC All-Pro in 1973, 1974, 1976 and 1977. Still no call to the Hall.

A solidified reputation among his teammates and league peers alike for his unwavering coolness under pressure, as witnessed by the "Sea of Hands" playoff game against Miami in 1974, the come from behind playoff win against New England in 1976, the "Ghost to the Post" double overtime thriller against the Baltimore Colts in the 1977 playoffs, the "Holy Roller" game against San Diego won on the last play in 1978.

Countless other games in which he helped to pluck victory from the jaws of defeat. But the Hall of Fame? Not a smidgen of consideration.

The powers-that-be continue to shut out The Snake from enshrinement in the hallowed halls of Canton, Ohio while ridiculously citing lack of amassed statistical and noteworthy awards in relation to his contemporaries.

There are those that argue that The Snake has but a single Super Bowl ring, while Terry Bradshaw (four rings), Bob Griese and Roger Staubach (two rings each) and therefore their careers merited more Hall of Fame consideration than Stabler.

Even if the Raiders won "only" one Super Bowl during the years Stabler led them, they were still arguably the most compelling team in the league at that time, with their renegade reputation and entertaining style of play. Their image was both loved and hated by fans around the country. The Raiders, to this day, have never been confused with a lukewarm franchise that has won little or nothing of consequence, such as the Seattle Seahawks, Chicago/St. Louis/Phoenix/Arizona Cardinals, or New Orleans Saints.

And while Bradshaw won four rings with the Steelers, he is the first to admit that he benefited heavily from The Steel Curtain, the greatest and most punishing defense in NFL history. Bradshaw's numbers early in his career were sickening. In his rookie year, he threw for six touchdowns and 24 interceptions. Even during the first two Pittsburgh Super Bowl seasons, he was regarded as little more than a marginal QB who pulled handoff duty for Franco Harris.

Bradshaw's career numbers include 212 touchdown passes and 210 interceptions- hardly an overwhelming ratio. Would he get so much as a sniff of Canton if not for Harris, Lynn Swann, John Stallworth, Mean Joe Green, Rocky Bleier and Jack Lambert? I think not.

Griese has numbers that include 192 touchdown passes and 25,092 passing yards. Most fans forget, however, that it was not Griese who was the QB for most of Miami's perfect 1972 season- it was Earl Morrall. Griese was injured early in season but returned for the playoffs and Super Bowl that year. As with Bradshaw, Griese was surrounded by talent that included a bruising running game and a stifling defense. Throw out Larry Csonka, Mercury Morris, Jim Kiick and Nick Buoniconti, and Griese would be hard-pressed to possess even an above-average career.

Staubach's career is almost parallel to The Snake in that he had a belated start due to Navy service, plus the fact that he had to overcome the presence of Craig Morton, Don Meredith on the Dallas Cowboys' roster in his early years. Staubach led the Cowboys to four Super Bowl appearances and two world championships. His numbers in 10 years with Dallas include 22,700 yards passing and 153 touchdown passes.

Stabler's numbers? He threw for 150 touchdowns as a Raiders' quarterback and has 194 for his career. He threw for 27,938 yards in a career that spanned 15 seasons.

Those career numbers compare favorably with Bradshaw, Griese and Staubach, the only other quarterbacks to lead consistent Super Bowl champions or contenders during the 1970's. Though The Snake had a high interception rate (he was picked off 222 times), that is more of an indication of the Raiders' go-for-broke-style offense that Madden and owner Al Davis carefully crafted in those years.

The Snake's career off the field has been heavily scrutinized, as he was known as a carouser and a hearty partier. In other words, the anti-thesis of Staubach, who was and is a devoted family man and churchgoer. The Snake's calm bravado on the field was exceeded only by his wildness off it, a contradiction not lost on carious sportswriters who enjoyed taking him to task for his naughtiness.

Hey, ever hear of Bobby Layne? Now there was a notorious hard drinker and restless sour, and he's in the Hall. So are a host of other players who weren't exactly Sunday-school candidates.

The point is, the Hall should exist to honor players who brought credit to the game and their teams by their exploits on the field. The criteria shouldn't be whether a player was tucked in early on Saturday night, but whether he excelled on Sunday.

The Raiders won on Sunday, more often than not. In fact, they had the best won-lost record in the league during the reign of The Snake. The Raiders were a great team that played a sizable portion of memorable games during the time Stabler led them, and The Snake was instrumental in the Raiders winning most of those games. Need I say more?

Back in the late 1970's, Stabler and Davis began having a running battle that culminated in The Snake's premature end to his career in Oakland. It began with a sub-par Raiders 1978 season that would See John Madden retire at year's end due to the stress that had taken a toll on his health. Davis unmercifully criticized Stabler during a mediocre (by Raiders standards) 9-7 year and The Snake, not known for his diplomacy even in the best of times, lashed back.

In the off-season following that year, The Snake invited a Sacramento Bee reporter, Bob Padecky to his hometown in Alabama for a powwow after hearing that Padecky had written an attempted expose.. on Stabler's life off the field. One of The Snake's buddies allegedly planted cocaine in Padecky's rental car and Padecky was arrested, then let go when the cops realized the ruse.

The Snake has claimed that he was never able to find out exactly who the culprit was, but it is interesting that sportswriters, being the grudge-harboring sort they are, have continually played a major role in denying Stabler his rightful place among football's immortals in Canton.

Writers have a tendency not to forget things like that, and it seems the more controversial an athlete was during his career, it increases the likelihood that he will be treated with contempt—overt or subtle—once he can no longer take the field.

After several years, after Stabler's playing days had wound down in Houston and New Orleans, he was eventually able to patch things up with Davis, a remarkable feat when you consider that Davis is not exactly known for forgiveness (See: Marcus Allen).

If Davis can, why not the sportswriters who have a heavy influence on who is voted into the hallowed halls of Canton?

Will writers across the nation see the error of their ways and do the right thing by doing their part to include The Snake in the Hall?

At this point, we can only hope…and meanwhile, celebrate the greatness of The Snake with a toast and a smile. Snake, you ruled.

Have a drink on me, bud. You deserve it.