This is Super Bowl Weekend, the biggest game of the year in the greatest sport ever invented, and since I’m in the rare and much-appreciated position of not having anything I
need to do right now (at least for today), I’d like to take time out from more weighty subject matter to celebrate the occasion.
Unfortunately, this year’s Super Bowl will be played by the Indianapolis Colts and New Orleans Saints, two teams whom I regard with extreme ambivalence. I’m sure they both have fans that are just totally pumped about the whole thing, and good for them, but for me it will suffice to catch the recap on SportsCenter. But I like talking about football, so I’ll amuse myself, and maybe even you, by doing so.
Most football players these days are pale shadows of the great ones of my youth, thanks in no small part to the progressive pussifying of the rules over the past twenty years or so. The NFL just doesn’t have the roster of iron-fisted, face-smashing soul-wreckers that it used to, guys like Deacon Jones, or Larry Csonka, or just about anyone who suited up for John Madden’s Oakland Raiders. Or this guy, who was the best one of them all:
John Harold “Jack” Lambert, Jr., the greatest linebacker in the history of the universe.
ALL HAIL LAMBERT
Now before some douchebag gets on here and tells me Dick Butkus was better, just save yourself the trouble and STFU now. Sure, Butkus was pretty good. But Butkus didn’t put up a record like this:
* 9-time Pro Bowl selection (1975 through 1983)
* 4× Super Bowl champion (IX, X, XIII, XIV)
* NFL 75th Anniversary All-Time Team
* NFL 1980s All-Decade Team
* NFL 1970s All-Decade Team
* 1974 NFL Defensive Rookie of the Year
* 1976 NFL Defensive Player of the Year
And I don’t recall ever seeing or hearing about Butkus ripping the face mask off his
own helmet out of sheer annoyance, as I saw Lambert do once. So there’s that, too.
The 1976 season started off badly for the two-time defending champion Steelers. Bradshaw went down with an injury, Swann missed a couple of games, and Mean Joe Greene, the leader of the vaunted Steel Curtain defense, was sidelined with a back injury. Lambert (who was, it should be remembered, only in his third season) took over as defensive captain, and in a team meeting after the Steelers’ fourth loss in five games declared that they should win all the nine remaining games, and that he would personally beat the shit out of anyone on the team who did not put forth the maximum effort to do so. So what happened?
*Pittsburgh 23, Cincinnati 6
*Pittsburgh 27, New York Giants 0
*Pittsburgh 23, San Diego 0
*Pittsburgh 45, Kansas City 0
*Pittsburgh 14, Miami 3
*Pittsburgh 32, Houston 16
*Pittsburgh 7, Cincinnati 3
*Pittsburgh 42, Tampa Bay 0
*Pittsburgh 21, Houston 0
HOLY SHIT. Even now, more than three decades after having seen it happen, I am still dumbfounded by it. Eight of Pittsburgh’s 11 defensive starters went to the Pro Bowl that year, and the team on the whole broke almost every statistical record, threw it on the ground, stomped on it, and then pissed on the remains. Pittsburgh won a Pyrrhic victory over Baltimore in the first playoff game, 40-14, losing both Franco Harris and Rocky Bleier (who had both rushed for over 1,000 yards during the season) to injuries. With their offense essentially crippled, the Steelers lost the AFC Championship to Oakland and missed the chance at a third consecutive Super Bowl title. Even so, most Steelers fans and even the owners of the team consider the 1976 squad the best Steelers team in history, even better than the line-ups that won Pittsburgh’s six championships. And at the center of it all was my personal hero, Jack Lambert, the “Vampire in Cleats” (a nickname earned in the era before everyone thought vampires should be faggy emos, due to his temperament on the field and obvious dental flaws).
ALL HAIL LAMBERT
Here’s Jack trying to manually decapitate one of the Baltimore Colt’s running backs:
And here’s a good video of Jack kicking some more asses, and most likely also taking names:
BE LIKE LAMBERT
Why is Jack Lambert my personal hero and role model? What made Jack great at what he did was that he thought his way to awesomeness more than anything else. No other linebacker was as good at reading offensive sets and directing a defense as he was. The video, being a personal highlight reel, is actually a little misleading; Jack did make a lot of individual plays like those throughout his career, but whenever that happened it was because somebody else missed a cue or the offense did something exceptional to overcome the defensive set. Most of the time, the action resembled that picture of the Baltimore running back (I don’t remember who that is, as if it mattered) being epically failed by committee.
The way Jack Lambert played football is the way anyone should try to do anything in life. Learn as much as you can about the task at hand, and keep studying, every day. Recognize the talents of the people around you, and direct them to work together in a complementary way for maximum results. Direct, then lead by example by being a 100% balls-out beserker on every play. Whatever strength and energy you’ve got, use it all, and if you’re not the biggest, strongest, or fastest guy on the field (he wasn’t – Jack was only about my size, 6’3” and 220 pounds or so, only had average speed, and would play so hard that he’d be totally gassed by the fourth quarter, although by then it usually didn’t matter), then be intimidating – don’t just stop your opponent, beat him down and make him question why he ever thought taking you on would be a good idea. Don’t cheat and don’t play dirty; Jack wasn’t a cheap-shot artist, and as a person he’s sort of a low-key guy...

...well, sort of... but he had no problem applying a little extra humiliation when it was warranted, especially if some smartass was running his mouth, or dissed one of Jack’s teammates. That shit would not abide.
And when the job’s done, find another job to do and don’t define your future life by past achievements. After he retired at the end of 1984 season Jack virtually dropped out of sight, and even today rarely gives interviews or spends time commemorating his days as the Most Awesome of the Steelers’ Pantheon. He’s not unapproachable by any means – he’s a friendly gruff, and gracious to the occasional fan that crosses his path – but to his way of thinking he’s just a guy that used to play football, and now does something else. Which in his case is tending to his little farm in rural Pennsylvania, and coaching kids’ baseball and basketball teams. For a while he was a part-time Wildlife Officer for the Pennsylvania DNR; I don’t know if he still does that. Safe to say that while he was on duty, the incidents of poaching and other misbehavior in Pennsylvania’s forests and game lands probably dropped considerably – this is not the guy you want catching you fishing or hunting without a license.
Jack Lambert: Awesome at football and awesome at life. If ever you’re confused as to what to do, just do what Jack would do – it’ll probably work out pretty well.