The Head Knocker

"Golden Boy" was on the bench. Paul Hornung, triple-threat halfback, Most Valuable Player in the National Football League, was sidelined with torn ligaments in his right knee--and for three weeks all the fans saw of him were the cigarette ads on the backs of magazines. But the World Champion Green Bay Packers hardly noticed. The offense scored 86 points, the defense limited its opponents to 26, and the Packers (1962 record: eight wins, no losses) continued unmolested toward their third straight Western Conference championship. Sportswriters asked George Halas, owner of the twice-victimized (49-0, 38-7) Chicago Bears, whether he thought the Packers could stay unbeaten all the way. Said Halas sourly: "That's their problem, not mine."

Nothing Artful. There was nothing artful about the Packers. Green Bay simply demolished its opponents. Coach Vince Lombardi sent in Guard Jerry Kramer to take over Hornung's place-kicking chores: Kramer booted five field goals in six tries and 16 straight extra points. Throwing the ball just often enough to keep enemy defenses opened up, Quarterback Bart Starr boasted the best completion percentage (63%) in the league. But with high-scoring (146 points last season) Halfback Hornung out of action, the man who carried the mail was log-legged, bull-headed Fullback Jim Taylor, who is without doubt the toughest player, pound for pound, in the National Football League.

"Football is a contact sport," says Taylor, who packs 215 Ibs. on a 6-ft. frame. "You've got to punish tacklers--deal out more misery than they deal out to you." Taylor's personal philosophy is uncomplicated: "I like to knock heads." A driving, crablike runner, he always hits the line precisely where he is supposed to--even when there is no hole ("I won't be intimidated''), never cuts when he can run down a tackler instead ("I like to sting them a little''). Crouched low to present the smallest possible target, Taylor uses his head like a battering ram, swings his free elbow with the authority of a mace.

Linebacker Bob Harrison of the San Francisco Forty-Niners. who strains the scales at 220 Ibs., records a memorable collision. "One time, Taylor saw me waiting for him, and he ran right at me. I planted my feet wide apart to be as solid as possible, but he hit me so hard that I went right off my feet and landed on my back. That never happened to me before. Next thing I knew, he was picking me up." The New York Giants' Sam Huff says that stopping Taylor is so difficult that no amount of mayhem is unjustified. "They ought to relax the rules," complains Huff. "It's not right that you should get a penalty for piling on Taylor. You gotta pile on to keep him down."

Out of the Shadow. A onetime fullback at Louisiana State University, Jim Taylor, 27, is in his fifth pro season, and for four of those years, he has played in the shadow of Cleveland's great fullback, Jimmy Brown. In 1961, Taylor was runner-up to Brown in rushing (1,307 yds. to 1,408), and in the voting for all-star fullback. This year, Taylor is the man to beat. He leads all pro rushers with 934 yds. (Brown has only 561), is tied for fourth in scoring with 60 points, has averaged 6.1 yds. every time he carried the ball. Last week against the Chicago Bears, Taylor put on a one-man show that a Brown or a Hornung would be hard-pressed to match: he carried the ball 25 times, bulled for four touchdowns and 124 yds. The entire Chicago Bears backfield picked up only 65 yds. on the ground.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.