Chapter 5 The Washington Whiteskins On November 23, 1947, the Washington Redskins held a fanappreciation day for their iconic quarterback, Sammy Baugh. They presented him with a glistening maroon car with wide, white-walled tires, the number "33" on the front bumper plate, and a door panel reading "Slingin'' Sam--the Redskins Man." On that special day, before more than 30,000 fervid fans, Baugh had one of his best games, rifling six touchdown passes to down the defending league champion Chicago Cardinals, 45-21. After the game, he drove his sister and brother-in-law to Philadelphia. On his return to Washington that same evening, an oncoming vehicle forced him into a skid that demolished his spiffy new automobile. Baugh was unhurt, but the car wreck would come to symbolize the Redskins'' football fortunes in the years following World War II. From 1946 through 1961, the Redskins enjoyed only three winning seasons, appeared in no title or championship games, and amassed a record of 69 wins, 116 losses, and 8 ties. They devoured eight head coaches and played no black athletes.
The most obvious reason for the Redskins'' futility is that they did not have enough skilled players, and for that crucial shortcoming, George Marshall must be held accountable. His skill at promotion did not extend to the building of a winning franchise. His monumental ego, and perhaps the team''s past success under Sammy Baugh, gave him an exaggerated sense of his understanding of the game and his ability to assess talent. Arrogant, autocratic, meddlesome, bigoted, and caustic, he also failed to establish a comfortable work environment for his players and coaches. By the mid-1940s, if not earlier, Marshall had developed an obsession with football that bordered on the pathological. To paraphrase Washington Post writer Richard Coe, George Marshall not only owned the Redskins, but the Redskins "owned" him. "I''ve never found anything I enjoyed more," Marshall said of football. "If I get out of football, I''ll retire; there''s nothing else I''d want to do.
To do anything well, you have to enjoy it first. And not just for the money, either. Anything else is just another form of prostitution." In 1946, he sold his laundry business to devote more time and attention to football. Aside from football, only the theater captivated him. When he went out on the town, which was often, he did so mainly for selfaggrandizement and promotion of the Redskins. Marshall''s preoccupation with football strained his family life. He rarely saw his two children from his first marriage, and his union with Corinne became a sham.
"How anyone can be interested in football when he''s married to Corinne Griffith is one of the great mysteries of life," wrote one baffled sportswriter. She lived most of the year in Beverly Hills, California, where she sold real estate. Marshall saw his wife occasionally when the Redskins travelled to Occidental College in southern California for training camp, but mostly the couple lived separate lives. Corinne moved west because she resented subordinating her life to football. On a local 1953 television program called The Redskin Show, Marshall said of Corinne: "She used to be the Corinne Griffith of the movies until she became more famous as Mrs. George Preston Marshall." Corinne did try to take an interest in football. She wrote the lyrics to "Hail to the Redskins," helped choreograph halftime shows, initially attended games, and plugged the team in a 1947 book, My Life with the Redskins.
But she never developed any affection for the game. After twenty-two years of marriage, the couple divorced in 1958. Commenting to the press on the breakup, she said: "Please don''t blame George. He just couldn''t love me. It''s that simple." There was, she continued, "[n]o other man. No other woman. Just things that got in the way.
And as hard as I tried, I just couldn''t learn football." As Corinne intimated, Marshall let nothing get in the way of football. Yet, in spite of his passion and commitment, he could not field a winning team. The Redskins still had some talented athletes following their 1945 championship appearance. Even in decline, Baugh was an effective quarterback, and he had a sure-handed receiver in Hugh "Bones" Taylor. But, after sixteen seasons, Baugh retired in 1952, and Taylor left two years later after an eight-year career. Finding an adequate replacement for Baugh proved especially difficult. Eddie LeBaron, a diminutive sixteenth-round draft choice, was arguably the team''s best quarterback in the decade following Baugh''s retirement.
After Dick Todd retired in 1948, the Redskins scrambled to find a durable running back. They obtained Bill Dudley in 1950 from the Detroit Lions, and he offered some flashes of brilliance with the Redskins, but the future Hall of Famer was past his prime. The team drafted Charlie "Choo Choo" Justice in 1950, but the twotime runner-up for the Heisman Trophy got injured and never lived up to expectations. Vic Janowicz, who won the Heisman Trophy with Ohio State University, signed with the Redskins in 1954, but his promising career ended two years later when he was paralyzed in an automobile accident. Eventually the University of Oregon''s Dick James performed productively at running back from 1956 to 1963, but the team had no winning seasons during his tenure. Although Dick McCann carried the title of general manager, Marshall,effectively had total control over the personnel decisions. Coaches had input, of course, but Marshall prided himself on evaluating talent and always got his way on trades and draft selections. The Redskins and most NFL teams did not have the elaborate scouting and assessment systems that prevail in the twenty-first century.
"They used to say the Redskins scouting budget was 50 cents, the cost of Street and Smith and another football magazine," said Eddie LeBaron. The Redskins did so little preparation for draft day that some owners accused them of cheating. "At the player draft meetings," recalled Paul Brown in PB: The Paul Brown Story, "we all sat at separate tables with our lists spread before us, and Marshall inevitably made the rounds of each table, coming up from behind, leaning over and giving the big hello. At the same time, he would look over our shoulders at our lists, trying to get some information. After a while, it became so obvious that everyone just closed his book when he saw Marshall coming." Some owners, said LeBaron, exposed lists of players that they did not want, hoping Marshall would take them. Some of the Redskins'' draft picks made it seem like Marshall was taking the bait. With their first pick in 1946, the Redskins selected UCLA running back Cal Rossi, but he was ineligible for the draft because he was only a junior.
Stubbornly, they selected Rossi again the following year, even though he had no intention of playing pro football. Looking for another Baugh, Marshall used the first overall choice in the 1948 draft to select Alabama''s Harry Gilmer instead of future Hall of Famers Y. A. Tittle and Bobby Layne. In fairness, it should be pointed out that Gilmer was an excellent prospect, and six other teams also bypassed Tittle and Layne. In the draft, Marshall was partial to quarterbacks, choosing seven with the team''s first pick between 1948 and 1960--Gilmer, Larry Isbell, Jack Scarbath, Ralph Guglielmi, Don Allard, Richie Lucas, and Norm Snead. "Marshall was a showman first of all. He wanted entertainment.
That''s how I looked at his draft picks," recalled LeBaron. "We never had very good defensive teams when I was there, but we kept drafting offensive players. He wanted big names, people who would draw fans and bring excitement. It was like treading water." Arkansas native Hugh "Bones" Taylor, one of Baugh''s favorite receivers in the postwar years, also was baffled by Marshall''s player personnel decisions. "It was weird. If Marshall could get a big name or some player from Maryland, Virginia, or North Carolina, he did, even if it didn''t help us," he complained. "We should have been signing blacks.
Len Ford grew up in the shadow of the stadium in D.C. and never had a chance to play for us. Why? What difference did it make if he was black?" Like all teams, the Redskins made some regrettable transactions. Against the advice of Baugh, Marshall traded quarterback Frank Filchock to the Giants after the 1945 season. He also lost two fu ture stars. Considering Harry Gilmer a can''t-miss prospect, he dealt quarterback Charley Conerly to New York, where he excelled for fourteen seasons, winning three division titles and the NFL championship in 1956. The Redskins in 1954 also sent defensive tackle Dick Modzelewski to the Steelers, who, in turn, traded him to the Giants.
Winner of the 1952 Outland Trophy as the nation''s top collegiate lineman, Modzelewski anchored the Giants defensive line from 1956 through 1963. Blinded by racism, Marshall refused to tap into the pool of African American talent. "There were only so many good players anyway," said former Redskins running back Jim Podoley, "and when you eliminate half of them, it was tough. Very tough." Podoley''s teammate Joe Tereshinski was certain that the black ban "was a ve.