The Black Quarterback: Running from the Devil - part 2

By: D.K. Wilson

Randall Cunningham’s presence in the NFL did not influence offensive coordinators to want to suddenly begin actively seeking out dual-threat quarterbacks. In fact, it probably did just the opposite; if there were signal-callers in college that displayed this ability they were more than likely actively shunned.

The NFL, despite being the pinnacle of the game, is the place where the fewest football innovations take place, particularly on the offensive side of the ball. Sure, every once in an eclipse simultaneously seen in both the Northern and Southern hemispheres someone comes along who tries something different. The last real innovation in the pros was actually a carry-over from college. It was June Jones’ run-and-shoot offense. Not the run-and-shoot that was more a spread offense of the Warren Moon Houston Oilers, but the real deal was run in Atlanta at the behest of head coach Jerry Glanville. And you see where Glanville and Jones are - not the NFL to be sure. And they will probably never again collect an NFL paycheck. Additionally, there was the cousin of the run-and-shoot, Steve Spurrier’s “fun-and-gun” offense he brought from the University of Florida to the Washington Redskins in 2002; you see how far that got him.

What the NFL is, is a copycat league. Every wrinkle, every nuance that produces positive results is copied and subsumed into every offense or defense in the NFL within a year. But to attempt something revolutionary or even remotely close to game-altering is a no-no. Remember, there are but 32 head coach positions and 32 offensive coordinator positions available in the NFL. Now, if you’re an offensive coordinator on a team and you somehow manage to convince a head coach to run an offense that is not an offshoot of the Paul Brown-Sid Gillman tree, or the Bill Walsh tree and it fails, you can expect to be summarily fired and your highest position with an NFL team from that moment forward might be an advance scout of college talent scout; you’re like an assistant principal in an elementary school - relatively inconsequential and that replaceable.

Where the Cunningham myth made its biggest impression was in the collegiate ranks. For the first time young black boys were growing up with a dynamic leader at quarterback. Randall was Jordan-esque to black high school quarterbacks. They saw the weekly highlights on ESPN. He could run, pass, jump - do everything but dribble and dunk.

College coaches saw this, too.

NCAA teams ran the veer and the option offenses which required mobile QBs who could both run and throw. But both offenses were run-oriented where the element of surprise was often a pass. Nebraska, under Tom Osborne, for instance, would run 40-to-50 times a game, throw perhaps 15 passes all day and win by an obscene margin. The thought of finding “the next” Randall Cunningham, though, meant unpredictability and flexibility in a game plan. Having the ability to call 40 running plays and 20 or 25 passes changed the tenor of a college football game for a head coach and his offensive coordinator.

While Cunningham was plying his trade in the NFL, college teams that just two recruiting classes earlier had no capability to make up a fourth quarter deficit were able to throw the ball to take advantage of the college rule where the clock stops after every first down, thus stretching the final minutes of a game to an almost indeterminate amount of time. No-huddle offenses in the final two minutes of a half and a game became viable options rather than desperate measures with scatter-armed quarterbacks with mostly bleak outcomes.

In 1989 as a junior, Andre Ware set the table for black college quarterbacks known for their arms as well as their legs when he won the Heisman Trophy while at the University of Houston. Ware played in the pass happy run-and-shoot offense and threw for 4,699 yards and 43 touchdowns.

That year, 1989, was the first time black QBs proliferated at Division I schools. The following quarterbacks played for top college programs:

Major Harris, University of West Virginia; Reggie Slack, a junior at Auburn University; Ronald Veal, a junior at the University of Arizona; Quinn Grovey, a junior at the University of Arkansas; Darian Hagan, a sophomore at the University of Colorado; Travis Hunter, a senior at East Carolina University; Charles Price, a sophomore at the University of Nevada Las Vegas; Phil Vinson, a senior at New Mexico State University; Anthony Thornton, a junior at Ohio University; Shawn Moore, a junior at the University of Virginia, and Lionell Crawford, a sophomore at the University of Wisconsin. And at the University of Michigan Demetrius Brown and Michael Taylor competed for the starting job.

Four years later in 1993 under Bobby Bowden, Charlie Ward won the Heisman Trophy and brought Florida State its first national championship.

However, between the professional debut of Cunningham and the non-debut of Ward was the dream postseason of the Washington Redskins’ Doug Williams, which culminated in a decisive Super Bowl XXII win over the Denver Broncos. Williams was not a scrambler, not a run-first quarterback. Like the black quarterbacks before him from black colleges and universities, Williams, a Grambling University graduate, was a drop-back passer. By the time Super Bowl XXII was played, Williams’ knees were shot so any movement he might have had in his days in the United States Football League (USFL) or with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers was long gone.

While Division I schools across the country were scouring high schools for the next Randall Cunningham, these same schools were actively eschewing black drop-back passers. We will never know how many classic black high school signal-callers had to change position to play big-time college football, or were passed by these same schools altogether. Despite Ward’s double dip of winning a national championship and a Heisman Trophy he was not drafted by an NFL team. Though the public complaint was that Ward was “too small” to play quarterback in the NFL, the common talk was that Ward was a product of Bowden’s system and left to his own devices, was not a facile enough decision-maker to play in the pros. Though Bowden lobbied loudly for his quarterback, no NFL general managers listened. Instead Ward, also the Florida State starting point guard, had a long career as an NBA point guard, mainly with the New York Knicks.

Ward’s plight was an oft-repeated one in the 1990s: outstanding black starting college quarterback receives not a sniff from any NFL team.

In the rare instances when black collegiate quarterbacks got a look from the NFL, it was invariably a quick one. “Blacks get two types of opportunities to play quarterback in the NFL,” said James Harris in 1974, when he was the lone black NFL starting quarterback, playing for the Los Angeles Rams, “a chance and a ‘nigger’ chance.” When they didn’t become stars overnight - and quarterbacks rarely do, black or white - there was always talk of shifting them to positions where their “natural athleticism” would serve “them” better. This blatant racism is nearly laughable. NFL people would be quick to point out the plight of 2001 Heisman Trophy winner Eric Crouch. The former Nebraska quarterback was selected by the St. Louis Rams in the sixth round of the 2002 NFL Draft as a wide receiver. After one good hit Crouch refused to play any more receiver. As a result he kicked around the NFL and the Canadian Football League and at 29 is no longer playing football.

However, one Eric Crouch does not in any way make up for the legion of talented black quarterbacks shunned by the NFL. It is not as if the league doesn’t want most of these football players but that is exactly the point. They are wanted. As football players, not quarterbacks. The only way NFL offensive coordinators appear to want to traverse outside of the templates of offensive styles set up for them is when they have that rare athlete on their rosters who can both spearhead their offense and simultaneously be subservient within it. Unfortunately for these coordinators this is a rare occurrence as most black college quarterbacks enter the pros resigned to the fact that they must earn their pay at a position other than quarterback.

But there was one college QB whose hunger to be a signal-caller on the highest level made him willing to do anything for the chance and another with similar abilities who would only be known as a quarterback.

Steve McNair from tiny Alcorn State University was a legend far before he was an NFL reality. A four-sport star in high school, McNair was pursued by the Seattle Mariners in 1990 at age 17. That year as a safety he intercepted 15 passes and was a high school All-American at that position.

Major colleges including Florida State wanted McNair - as a safety. McNair, though, was set on playing quarterback and settled on the one school that would allow him to be its signal-caller, Alcorn St. By the time he was a junior at Alcorn he had the nickname of “Air McNair” and all thoughts of him as a safety disappeared. When his college career ended McNair passed and ran for almost 6,000 yards and 53 touchdowns. In the 1994 Senior Bowl McNair stood out among his peers on and off the field to the point where the Houston Oilers made him the third pick in the 1995 NFL Draft.

From there, McNair’s career arc is well known. Early in his career the task of Oilers-turned Tennessee Titans head coach, Jeff Fisher, was to keep McNair from scrambling when his first option was covered. As his career continued, the chore became to get McNair to run when his passing options were closed. Steve “Air” McNair led the Titans to within one yard of tying the St. Louis Rams on the final play of the 2000 Super Bowl. Along the way McNair and the Titans defeated the Indianapolis Colts - 19-16 - and their celebrated quarterback, Peyton Manning.

Since then, McNair has been battered to the point where, after 12 years, his career might be over. It is said that he is a warrior, but a warrior who never quite lived up to his potential.

The quintessential example of the treatment of black quarterbacks in the NFL, though, is that of Kordell Stewart. The former Colorado University star quarterback was drafted by the Pittsburgh Steelers in 1995. He was given the nickname “Slash” by Myron Cope, ex-radio announcer for the Steelers because he was relegated by head coach Bill Cowher to lining up mainly at wide receiver and running back and occasionally quarterback.

The result of this alleged innovative move with Stewart by Cowher resulted in Stewart quickly became a dabbler at many positions and master of none. And yet, despite leading the Steelers to the AFC Championship game, Kordell Stewart became a clown-like, novelty figure in Pittsburgh, neither team leader nor valued skill position player. He ultimately fell out of favor with the Pittsburgh football media and more importantly head coach Bill Cowher, and was released by the Steelers in 2003.

2003 was the same season Bryon Leftwich of Marshall University was drafted by the Jacksonville Jaguars.

The Black Quarterback: Running from the Devil - part 1
The Black Quarterback: Running from the Devil - part 3

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D.K. Wilson is a freelance sports writer. He is better known on the internet as "DWil," and writes for Sports On My Mind.

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