Sweetness_ The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton - Jeff Pearlman [48]
Coming off of a win, the Tigers entered the game filled with optimism. The Blue Tigers of Bishop College, on the other hand, were a mess. A Division II school from Dallas that offered only a handful of half-scholarships, Bishop’s coach was Dwight Fisher, a man in his mid-sixties whose antiquated offensive and defensive schemes dated back to the 1930s. Fisher’s roster was comprised of nonprospects and castoffs. From 1971 to 1975, the offense scored ten total touchdowns. “Our players were mostly guys who couldn’t make it anywhere else,” said Herman Jordan, Bishop’s quarterback. “We had a nice campus, but no facilities and no staff. A couple of days before home games, all the players would be out there lining the field.”
So certain was Hill his team would dominate that, for the start of the game, he sent the freshman Payton back to return the kickoff. Standing toward the right hash mark, his white jersey bright and unblemished, he caught the ball on the twenty-five-yard line, turned left, dashed past a gaggle of flailing tacklers, and was finally brought down thirty-three yards later, at Bishop’s forty-second. Three plays later, Collins connected for a touchdown with Barkum, the senior flanker who would go on to a twelve-year career with the New York Jets, and the Tigers were on their way.
The Blue Tigers were listless and inept, falling behind 14–0 before the completion of the first quarter. With the game already in hand, Hill began the second quarter by inserting Walter into the backfield, alternating him with his older brother in the first-ever Payton-Payton rotation. “You didn’t want to tackle one,” said Hill. “And you didn’t want to tackle the other.”
Walter Payton’s first collegiate touchdown came on first and goal from the two, when he took the handoff from Collins, bent his knees, sprung high into the air, and dove over the top of the line of scrimmage and into the end zone.
Near the end of the half, Eddie Payton ruined a Jackson State scoring opportunity by fumbling on Bishop’s two-yard line. Though the Tigers ended the half with a 21–0 lead, Hill was incensed. As his team returned to the field after the break, Walter was told he would carry the load. “It was the right time to test him out,” said Hill. “We weren’t going to lose that game even if he struggled.”
After holding Bishop to three and out, Jackson State’s offense received the ball and casually marched down the field. On first and ten from Bishop’s twenty-five, Collins spun to his left and pitched the ball to Walter. The freshman charged behind Emanuel Zanders, his six-foot-one, 255-pound left guard, cut outside, and dashed down the field, untouched and all alone. If the 40–7 win belonged to Barkum, who caught five passes for ninety-nine yards and scored three touchdowns, the breakout performer was Walter Payton, whose 143 rushing yards on eighteen carries introduced the city of Jackson to its newest star.
“That day was when I knew Walter would one day play in the NFL,” said Brazile. “When you watched him run with the ball in that game, it was clear he was special.”
Without drastically changing Eddie’s role, Hill increasingly turned toward Walter. The two backs substituted for each other, slapping hands as one entered and the other exited. By late in the season they were splitting time until, before the game at Mississippi Valley State on November 20, Hill decided he would finally go with the all-Payton starting backfield. “It just made sense,” said Hill. “They both ran hard, they both blocked well, and they both were lethal catching screens out of the backfield. In practice I would pit them against each other as motivation, but they didn’t need it. They were motivated without me.”
The game took place on a bright and windy afternoon in Itta Bena, Mississippi, and if spectators believed they were witnessing some sort of sports sibling history, little was discussed. “Nobody gave it much