Sweetness_ The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton - Jeff Pearlman [60]
A mere three months later, Montgomery ran for 146 yards, caught nine passes for 74 yards and scored six touchdowns in Abilene’s win over Stephen F. Austin. He would lead the NAIA in scoring, and go on to a Pro Bowl career with the Philadelphia Eagles, rushing for 6,789 yards and scoring fifty-seven touchdowns. Had he remained at Jackson State, one can argue the Tigers would have boasted the finest running back tandem in the history of college football.
“I would have started Walter and Wilbert together,” Hill said. “Almost certainly. Then he left. That’s how recruiting was back then. It was dog-eatdog. Abilene ate my dog.”
By the time Jackson State kicked off its 1973 season with a September 8 visit to the University of Nebraska at Omaha, NFL scouts and executives were increasingly aware that the nation’s most talented collegiate halfback played for the Tigers. So, for that matter, was Jackson State’s rapidly expanding fan base. Just two years earlier most of the people who attended games at Memorial Stadium came to see the Sonic Boom of the South, the college’s extraordinary marching band. Now Payton was a marquee attraction. Blacks from across the state of Mississippi showed up to catch the action. The university’s sports information director, Sam Jefferson, began referring to the facility as “Payton Place,” and Tiger games rivaled those of Ole Miss and Mississippi State for fan-generated electricity. On the day of the season’s biggest games, sixty thousand spectators packed the stadium.
Ever since he first stole Payton from Kansas State, Hill had dreams of molding himself the perfect running back. Now, that vision was coming to fruition. At the start of the season, Hill implored Payton to refuse to run out of bounds. “Never die easy,” he told him. “If you’re going to die anyway, die hard.” Specifically, Hill meant that, 99 percent of the time, a defensive player was going to slam into a running back whether he was angling toward the sideline or charging straight ahead. “You’re red meat,” he told Payton, “and they’re hungry.” Hill had always been impressed with Payton’s stiff-arm, which he brought to Jackson State via Columbia High School. But he wanted his star to use it more often, and with even greater viciousness. Hill aspired for defensive backs to see Payton coming and wince. “When I was playing at Jackson State there was a game against Kentucky State, and on fourth and five I broke a tackle and stepped out of bounds, because I thought I had the first,” said Hill. “Well, I didn’t. I decided from then on that I’d never go out of bounds by choice. So I’d tell Walter, ‘Don’t be a coward. Initiate the contact. If they’re dumb enough to try and tackle you up high, break out the bone and throw it.’ ”
The Tigers traveled to Omaha for the opener, where Coach Al Caniglia and the Maverick players had little idea what they were in store for. “Our scouting report mentioned Walter Payton,” said Ted Sledge, an Omaha defensive tackle. “But we didn’t know very much.” The weather was in Nebraska-Omaha’s favor. Following three straight days of torrential rain, Rosenblatt Stadium’s surface was a platter of mud soufflé. Yet despite the sludge, and despite Omaha stuffing the line with six players, Payton broke loose, carrying the ball seventeen times for 120 yards and a touchdown, kicking a twenty-five-yard field goal and an extra point, and catching four passes for 72 yards. Jackson State won handily, 17–0.
Afterward, in an appalling act of poor sportsmanship, a gaggle of Jackson State’s players (not