Well, as long as we're had some football yesterday, let's continue with that and bring in the wonderful folks at Bad Lip Reading.  This is their look at the NFL football season that just passed.  

It's a lot of fun, though if I have two quibbles, it's that they rely to heavily on players just saying their funny names, and also that in eight minutes they couldn't fine one player from the Chicago Bears!

Other than that, I always like them Bad Lip Reading folks...
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On this week’s ‘Not My Job’ segment of the socially-distanced NPR quiz show Wait, Wait…Don’t Tell Me!, the guest is Olympic legend Lindsey Vonn.  Her interview with guest host Maz Jobrani is enthusiastic, open, very interesting and a lot of fun.  Fun, too, is her clear laughing-appreciation of the theme of the quiz.  I also always like to hear when music they choose to end the segment – generally it’s fine, but occasionally a hoot, and this time to do a really good job and land close to the hoot category.

Very sorry to know about the passing of Henry Aaron, but very happy to know about his baseball career and life.  Here is Vin Scully's call of his 715th home run on April 8, 1974, breaking the record of Babe Ruth, a call which is particularly good and notable for his famous line at the 1:10 mark -- and all his commentary and perspective after.  But most notable for the home run itself.

Huzzah to the beloved Northwestern for winning the Citrus Bowl 35-19 over Auburn. And the 400th coaching win by defensive coordinator Mike Hankwitz who is retiring after 51 years in college football.
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And to Pat Fitzgerald who just won the Dodd Coach of the Year Award for college football.

I always especially appreciate bowl game wins -- let alone just bowl game appearances -- because my dad had season tickets to Northwestern football for 51 years, and for almost all of those years they not only didn't play in a bowl game, but lost most of the games they played.  This includes a 34-game losing streak, still the longest in NCAA Division 1 history.  

So, really -- huzzah.

I was very sorry to find out about the passing of Rafer Johnson at the age of 86, one of the country's great athletes, who won the Decathlon at the 1960 Olympics and was a great ambassador for the U.S. since.

How great?  It would be too long to go into detail, but I'll just note that when the United States hosted the Olympic Games in Los Angeles in 1984, the person chosen to light the Olympic flame was Rafer Johnson.

I was very sorry to find out about the passing of Rafer Johnson at the age of 86, one of the country's great athletes, who won the Decathlon at the 1960 Olympics and was a great ambassador for the U.S. since.

This is a good, 4-minute video of Johnson's Gold Medal victory, in what's considered one of greatest decathlon competitions in Olympic history.  Not just because it was between the two top athletes in the world at the time, but they also were not only close friends...but teammates at UCLA, even though they were  representing different countries.

I don't really have much of a personal story to pass along about Rafer Johnson, but he has a very nice autobiography, The Best That I Can Be, which was written with the talented Philip Goldberg, who I was friends with but alas haven't seen for years since moved out of state too long ago.  The only time I cross paths with Rafer Johnson was when I went to a book-signing event.  We didn't talk long -- there was a long line -- but he was gracious and spoke wonderfully about Phil, who over the years always spoke even far-higher of Rafer.​

On his Facebook page, Phil wrote this --

"​I just got the sad news that one of the finest people I've ever known, Rafer Johnson, has passed away at 86. In the 90s I had the profound honor of working with Rafer on his autobiography, "The Best That I Can Be." It was a joy and an inspiration from start to finish, and we remained friends ever since. For those who don't know, or remember, Rafer was one of the greatest athletes in American history, and to my mind an even greater human being and citizen."

If you're interested in the book, you can find it here.

On this week’s ‘Not My Job’ segment of the socially-distanced NPR quiz show Wait, Wait…Don’t Tell Me!, the guest is pro basketball player A'ja Wilson, who was this year’s Most Valuable Player in the WNBA. In her good-hearted conversation with host Peter Sagal, she talks about playing the past season in their official “bubble.”  (She says that one of the biggest challenges during the season was that, with no fans in the stands, the referees could hear everything you said.)  Also fun is how worked up and competitive she is playing the quiz.

There was a bit of a well-deserved controversy when the CMA Awards broadcast didn't even mention the passing of legend John Prine this year from COVID-19.  One of Prine's close friends singer Sturgill Simpson posted several scathing messages and videos on his Instagram account.  The team of Jason Isbell and Amanda Shire posted on Twitter pictures of their Country Music Association lifetime membership cards that they were returning, referencing not only Prine, but the passing of greats Jerry Jeff Walker and Billy Joe Shaver not getting mentioned either.  "I doubt anybody will care," Isbell wrote, "but we cared a lot about our heroes,” And comments on social media expanded on the general disdain.

That was Thursday night.  Needless-to-say, not having the gift of foresight, I was unware of what was to come when, earlier that morning -- having the gift of an odd love for watching golf-- I had put on the Masters golf tournament was beginning this year's coverage on ESPN.  And to my dearly-happy surprise, the way the Masters opened their broadcast was with a lovely video about past champions of the tournament and its history, all played to the music of -- John Prine, the last song he recorded, the gorgeous, "I Remember Everything."  

This was on ESPN.  Since CBS begins its coverage of the final two rounds on Saturday, I wonder if they'll open with the video, as well.  On general principle, but also since it's now gotten so much attention.

The two occasions combined just brought out more scorn at the CMA, how they could manage to even mention John Prine who had major impact on the industry, and the Masters golf tournament could devote such thoughtfulness to Prine's song.

I had thought about mentioning Prine's song and the video here after I'd seen it, but couldn't find a copy of it.  However, thankfully, it showed up on some Twitter feeds.

Remarkably, especially at the beginning of the song, the words almost sound like they were written specifically for the Masters.  But, of course, they were written for...well, everything.

​Here 'tis.  Even if the CMA blew it, the Masters got it right.

So did John Prine.  Pretty much always.

When the 1984 Chicago Bears went 15-1 and won the Super Bowl, it was in large part thanks to its stifling defense, famously known as the "46 Defense" after safety Doug Plank.

Here's to a good 46 Defense, whenever it comes.  In 1984 or 2020.
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His time with the Bears was odd.  In what has to have been the greatest draft in NFL history, the Chicago Bears had two first-round selections in 1965 -- and they picked Gale Sayers and Dick Butkus, not only another Hall of Famer but considered by many the greatest linebacker in the league, but if not, at least of the five best.  The college award for best linebacker of the year is called the Butkus Award, that's how great he was.  What made it all odd, though, was that the team was absolutely awful -- yet with Sayers on offense and Butkus on defense, even as a little kid I knew enough not to miss a game or a down whether the Bears had the ball or not.  They were both too special to watch.

I remember another player on that team, too -- Brian Piccolo.  If you've never seen the TV movie (the 1971 original with a young James Caan and a young Billy Dee Williams, since they tried remaking it a few years ago), it's highly-worth checking out, just a wonderful film, and it gives a good sense of who Sayers and Piccolo were.  Here's just a hint of that.
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​But all that aside, I have a special affection to Gale Sayers for a particular reason.

Through the first 50 years of the Chicago Bears existence, they played in Wrigley Field, after the Cubs season was over.  Though I'm a big Bears fan, have seen countless Bears games over the years on TV, and been to years and years of college games at the beloved Northwestern (where my dad had season tickets for 49 years) and UCLA, I've only been to one Chicago Bears game in person in my life.  But that one game, which was played at Wrigley Field, was not just the only time I saw the Bears play live, but it was my first professional football game ever, -- and boy, it was a doozy.  It was the game when Gale Sayers as a rookie scored six touchdowns to tie the National Football League record, which still stands.  December 12, 1965. 

​The day was pouring rain and the field was muddy, but while most everyone else was sliding all over the place, Sayers was seemingly unfazed, running free through the San Francisco 49ers defense, or what positioned itself as a defense.  The Bears won 61-20.  What isn't generally remembered is that although Sayers scored six touchdown, the team actually took him out of the game after three quarters when he had five touchdowns.  Perhaps it was because they were so far ahead, perhaps it was because of the muddy field they didn't want to risk injury.  Probably both.  In fact, they only put him in the fourth quarter, for just one single play.  A punt return.  And he ran it back for a touchdown!  His sixth, which tied the record.  Through the mud, with the opposing San Francisco 49ers slipping all over the place.  (Also notable about that rainy day is that it was also the game where the 49ers kicker, Tommy Davis, who at that point had the longest streak of kick extra points...missed.  Which is why, you'll note, that they ended up with just 20 points, not 21.

This is an affectionate video of Gale Sayers sitting down with a sports reporter and going through film of his six touchdowns.  Sayers was always a modest man (the title of his "as told to" autobiography is I Am Third), though an honest one.  And in this video you'll hear him repeatedly say, "They couldn't touch me.  They couldn't touch me."  That isn't bragging.  As you watch this video, what you'll see is that...they couldn't touch him.

For what it's worth, our seats were in the upper deck, sort of in the area of the end zone to the right, though we were a little further away, to the left.  Yes, it was up high, but we had a great view of the field and everything that took place that glorious, albeit dreary day.

I was going to end things there, on real life -- but I decided to go back to reel life, and the movie Brian's Song.  In 1969, Gale Sayers were given the George S. Halas Courage Award (named, as it happens, for Sayers' coach).  He won the award for coming back from his devastating knee injury -- a rehab he credited to being made possible by his roommate Brian Piccolo.  But though Sayers got the Courage Award, what those in the room didn't really know was the serious condition his dear friend was in, and he gave a famously moving speech, which was memorialized in the film.  But though it got edited a bit for the movie, this was basically what Sayers said in his acceptance --

And I decided to go back to the movie because I found an excerpt of the actual speech.  And as you can see, it really was Sayers.

"...He has the heart of a giant and that rare form of courage that allows him to kid himself  and his opponent --cancer. He has the mental attitude that makes me proud to have a friend who spells out the word 'courage' twenty-four hours a day, every day of his life. You flatter me by giving me this award, but I tell you that I accept it for Brian Piccolo. It is mine tonight, it is Brian Piccolo's tomorrow... I love Brian Piccolo, and I'd like all of you to love him too. Tonight, when you hit your knees, please ask God to love him."

That's Gale Sayers.  And that's only just a part of while he'll be missed.  And remembered.