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By Root 1605 0

at one rubber chicken dinner after another. The routine was mind-numbingly repetitive—Payton would stand up, introduce himself (“In case you don’t know, I’m . . . ”—laugher followed), talk for twenty-five minutes about the group’s plan to bring football to St. Louis, field the most predictable questions known to man (What did it feel like breaking Jim Brown’s record? “Amazing.” Were you mad at Mike Ditka for not letting you have a Super Bowl touchdown? “Absolutely not.”), then sign a hundred or so autographs before leaving. Payton knew that, at this point, his primary role was as a front man. There would be time later on to hire a head coach (Payton made it clear he wanted to bring in Johnny Roland, his running backs coach with Chicago) and evaluate players and man the draft and pick uniform colors and a team name. For now, he was supposed to put a face to the project while letting the experienced executives work their magic.

Despite mounting hostilities between Clinton and Murray, the group somehow convinced then–Missouri governor John Ashcroft to sign a financing bill for a new stadium/convention center. Shortly thereafter, bonds to finance the domed stadium sold out in less than three days. Clinton bragged that he had lined up “potential investors” to join the team but, in actuality, “investors” was “an investor.” Clinton asked more than a dozen local entrepreneurs for a modest quarter-million-dollar advance, and a mere one—Thomas Holley, president of a chain of discount stores—put in.

Clinton and Murray brandished Payton like a shield. He was the golden protector out front, charming the masses with his smile and his rollicking tales of gridiron glory. Payton’s desire to be the first African-American owner was sincere, but there was something disconcertingly minstrel-like in the way he was utilized. Payton sang and danced and did a little shuffle, and his involvement in the behind-the-scenes dealings was limited. He shook hands, patted shoulders, told jokes, and believed he was making valuable inroads for the group. “The demographics are there, the proven product is there,” he told Fred Mitchell of the Chicago Tribune. “Look at Anheuser-Busch and McDonnell Douglas. They are not there just for their own health. There is something in the city.

“We have someone who is from the area of St. Louis and knows the workings. And we have a guy who has been a minority owner in the NFL already. He knows football and he knows people and he has a pretty good track record in the NFL. We have all aspects covered.”

In spite of Payton’s efforts, though, many important public figures were concerned. Clinton was known throughout St. Louis, but his reputation was mixed. Some viewed him simply as a civic enthusiast with pure intentions. Others viewed him as a snake oil salesman. And Murray—well, he just seemed sort of crazy. “It would be like trusting a raccoon,” Chris Kelly, an influential Missouri congressman, said of Clinton and Murray.

The St. Louis bid received a major boost in July 1990, when James Busch Orthwein, great-grandson of the founder of Anheuser-Busch and a man worth fifty-six million dollars, signed on. Of the three main financial players—Clinton, Murray, and Orthwein—Orthwein was Payton’s preferred taste in partners. Gruff, gritty, and dignified, the sixty-nine-year-old yachtsman and rabid sport fisherman joined the team when Murray promised him 12 percent of the partnership in exchange for a sizeable loan. Though born into wealth, Orthwein was, in part, a self-made man. He helped build the St. Louis–based D’Arcy Advertising Co. into an international force, then later headed a private investment firm, Huntleigh Asset Partners. Unlike the other partners, Orthwein wasn’t in this for glory. He simply saw a good financial opportunity, as well as the chance to aid his hometown. Yet as soon as he became part of the team, the problems began. Clinton was dismissive of Orthwein’s involvement, complaining that the group needed neither his wisdom nor his deep pockets. This infuriated Payton, who was always mystified by the source