Fight for Old DC: George Preston Marshall, the Integration of the Washington Redskins, and the Rise of a New NFL

Fight for Old DC: George Preston Marshall, the Integration of the Washington Redskins, and the Rise of a New NFL

by Andrew O'Toole
Fight for Old DC: George Preston Marshall, the Integration of the Washington Redskins, and the Rise of a New NFL

Fight for Old DC: George Preston Marshall, the Integration of the Washington Redskins, and the Rise of a New NFL

by Andrew O'Toole

Hardcover

$29.95 
  • SHIP THIS ITEM
    Qualifies for Free Shipping
  • PICK UP IN STORE
    Check Availability at Nearby Stores

Related collections and offers


Overview


In 1932 laundry-store tycoon George Preston Marshall became part owner of the Boston Braves franchise in the National Football League. To separate his franchise from the baseball team, he renamed it the Redskins in 1933 and then in 1937 moved his team to Washington DC, where the team won two NFL championships over the next decade. But it was off the field that Marshall made his lasting impact. An innovator, he achieved many “firsts” in professional football. His team was the first to telecast all its games, have its own fight song and a halftime show, and assemble its own marching band and cheerleading squad. He viewed football as an entertainment business and accordingly made changes to increase scoring and improve the fan experience.


But along with innovation, there was controversy. Marshall was a proud son of the South, and as the fifties came to a close, his team remained the only franchise in the three major league sports to not have a single black player. Marshall came under pressure from Congress and the NFL and its president, Pete Rozelle, as league expansion and new television contract possibilities forced the issue on the reluctant owner. Outside forces finally pushed Marshall to trade for Bobby Mitchell, the team’s first black player, in 1962. With the story of Marshall’s holdout as the backdrop, Fight for Old DC chronicles these pivotal years when the NFL began its ascent to the top of the nation’s sporting interest.

 

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780803299351
Publisher: Nebraska
Publication date: 11/01/2016
Pages: 272
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.10(h) x 1.20(d)

About the Author


Andrew O’Toole is the author of numerous books, including Paul Brown: The Rise and Fall Again of Football’s Most Innovative CoachSmiling Irish Eyes: Art Rooney and the Pittsburgh Steelers, and Sweet William: The Life of Billy Conn.
 

Read an Excerpt

Fight For Old DC

George Preston Marshall, the Integration of the Washington Redskins, and the Rise of a New NFL


By Andrew O'Toole

UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA PRESS

Copyright © 2016 Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8032-9946-7



CHAPTER 1

"What's the Difference?"


Harry Wismer was running late for an engagement.

He was expected to address the Capital Press Club at noon, but it was nearly one o'clock when the Redskins official finally arrived at Washington's Twelfth Street YMCA.

Falling behind schedule was not an unusual predicament for Wismer, and quite often the cause of Harry's tardiness was his gregarious nature. It was often said that he didn't know a stranger, and as he strolled along the streets of northwest DC Harry couldn't take a step without bumping into a friend, maybe an acquaintance, or just an admirer offering a good word. And he couldn't just nod and keep moving; that wasn't Harry's style. He had an endearing and quite puzzling habit of greeting an acquaintance with a heartfelt, "Congratulations!"

"Congratulations!" Harry would boom in his recognizable baritone, while thrusting his right hand forward.

Why "Congratulations"?

Because, Wismer explained, "it makes people feel good."

Behind the microphone Wismer was equally unreserved. His popularity stemmed from his years as the radio play-by-play man for the Washington Redskins. That role earned Wismer the moniker "Voice of the Redskins." His broadcasts would be peppered with a running commentary on the many dignitaries in attendance at the afternoon games.

"President Eisenhower is here today," Wismer would inform his listeners.

"Justice Clark is seated just below us."

"It seems as if Dick Nixon has just arrived."

Wismer didn't limit his on-air introductions to members of the Washington A-list. He frequently told his audience of the unknown as well as the known. It made no difference to Harry; he was a glad-hander to all, big or small.

A slight problem existed with Wismer's Griffith Stadium list of dignitaries; quite often he made it all up. This tendency to occasionally embellish sometimes bled over into his play-by-play accounts.

In one instance from years earlier Wismer was announcing an Army contest during the days of Glenn Davis and Doc Blanchard. In the course of the game Blanchard took a handoff and proceeded to break free on the way to a 75-yard touchdown run. Wismer erroneously believed the ball to be in the possession of Davis, and he animatedly described the great Glenn Davis dashing down the field and closing in on the end zone. "Davis" had reached the 20-yard line when Wismer recognized his mistake. Ever the professional, he adroitly adjusted the call.

"He's at the 20, ... the 10, ... and Glenn laterals to Blanchard — touchdown, Blanchard!"

Indeed a broadcast with Harry Wismer behind the mic was never dull.

His appearance before the Capital Press Club, however, was not related to his role as the Redskins' announcer. Harry hadn't served as play-byplay man for the Redskins for several years, but in the first days of 1957 he was in the news and in demand. The invitation to speak came in the wake of Wismer's public falling out with Redskins owner George Preston Marshall. Theirs was more than a simple disagreement. Wismer had in fact filed suit against Marshall charging that funds of the corporation "have been improperly used ... for the maintenance and upkeep of a private residence for George Preston Marshall as well as for food, beverages, automobiles, and employment of chauffeurs, cooks, maids and other servants."

This lawsuit was just the final straw in a disintegrating relationship. Five months earlier the Redskins' starting halfback, Vic Janowicz, had been severely injured in an automobile mishap. The accident occurred in Los Angeles while the Redskins were on the West Coast training for the upcoming season. The crash left Janowicz partially paralyzed, effectively ending his career as a professional athlete. Wismer believed that Janowicz should receive his full salary for the 1956 season. Marshall, however, had other thoughts. In his view the football club had nothing to do with Janowicz's unfortunate condition. That Wismer went public with his criticism splintered what was already a contentious association.


That third day of the new year of 1957 was cool but comfortable in the nation's capital. A bright sun burst through clear skies as Harry Wismer arrived at the Twelfth Street Y. Wismer's host, the Capital Press Club, had been founded in 1944 by the Chicago Defender columnist Alfred E. Smith. He had started the organization because the National Press Club excluded black journalists from membership, and Smith believed they needed a guild to call their own, a place where issues such as civil rights could be discussed. The location for this luncheon, the Twelfth Street Y, held its own significance in the community. The building in the northwest quadrant of DC was the first YMCA in the country that was built to serve a black community, but this YMCA served as more of a community center than a recreational facility. Just a few years earlier Thurgood Marshall, counsel for the NAACP, had prepared the Brown v. Board of Education case at the Twelfth Street Y.

Presiding over the affair was Lawrence Oxley, president of the Pigskin Club. The subject of the day's gathering, "The Negro Athlete in Pro Football," was a topic familiar to the writers gathered in the room. As head of the Pigskin Club, Oxley had a substantial interest in the subject. The Pigskin Club had been celebrating Negro athletes for a quarter century. Beyond bringing athletes recognition, however, the organization strove to achieve racial equality on the playing field. As Oxley stepped to the podium to introduce the tardy guest of honor, he hoped that Wismer would shed some light on an issue of importance to the luncheon attendees.

Wismer did not disappoint.

He came equipped with a pocketful of yarns, some born in truth and others stretching the bounds of believability. All of Harry Wismer's tales, tall or otherwise, entertained. It was when the subject turned to the role of the Negro in football or more specifically the conspicuous lack of a black player on the Washington Redskins squad that he captured the rapt attention of the Capital Press Club members. Once the question-and-answer portion of the luncheon program was under way, Wismer's candid responses to the attendees' pointed queries won the crowd over. He didn't arrive at the affair with the intention of stirring up a hornet's nest, but Harry never shied away from speaking his mind.

During the course of his comments before the Capital Press Club Wismer remarked, "What a grand job the Negro athlete is doing in professional football," but he added, "I have been squelched by President George Preston Marshall of the Redskins every time I have suggested that they hire a Negro player."

According to Wismer, Marshall's response to such a proposal was acidly succinct. "You mind your broadcasts," Marshall told the one-time announcer, "and I'll mind my football team."

But the Redskins were George Marshall's club, and a vice president, no matter how much stock he held, had only so much power. Indeed he was but a "helpless minority stockholder," and he alone could not force a change in Washington, Wismer explained.

Wismer added, however, "In the light of the President's order on desegregation in Washington; and because it is the decent thing to do, George Marshall should end the discrimination against Negro players."

Seated near the front of the room was Sam Lacy, sports editor of the Baltimore Afro-American. Armed with ideals and a passion for fighting against discrimination and injustice, Lacy had entered the profession of journalism in the 1920s. First at the Washington Tribune, and then later the Chicago Defender, Lacy was at the forefront of black sportswriters pushing the integration of Major League Baseball. When offered the opportunity to become the sports editor for the Afro-American in 1943, Lacy jumped at the chance.

He also leaped at the opportunity to question the former Redskins official.

Lacy stood and addressed Wismer. "Marshall is interested in big, fast backs. Why didn't the Redskins pick Syracuse's 212 pound half back?"

Lacy was referring to Jim Brown, the first-round selection of the Cleveland Browns during the November 27 collegiate draft. In his zeal Lacy occasionally overlooked the facts. In this instance Brown was not available when Washington drafted, but his point was well taken nonetheless.

"Maybe Marshall is afraid of winning the championship," Wismer responded. "Maybe he's afraid he'd have to pay the players too much money."

Lacy wasn't finished. "How do the coaches feel about the lack of Negro players?" he asked.

"Well," Wismer began, "Ollie Matson played under Joe [Kuharich] at San Francisco and with the Chicago Cardinals. And I think Joe would have Matson playing for him here if he could. But Kuharich is helpless."

From across the room came another query. "Can you confirm that Marshall has stated that there never will be a Negro on the Redskins?"

"I can only let the record speak for itself," Wismer replied.


This report about Marshall's purported statement was not window-rattling news; that George Preston Marshall was incurably reluctant to integrate his Redskins was an acknowledged reality. It was an issue that had not yet been addressed in such a public forum, however. Wismer's candid comments inspired a rash of headlines in newspapers across the country, and several organizations quickly began discussing the possibility of boycotting the Redskins. Not surprisingly, reporters sought out Marshall in search of a response to Wismer's inflammatory comments. Marshall, however, was uncharacteristically quiet. He avoided the numerous interview requests. Marshall's only comment came in a personalized telegram to Sam Lacy, who was pushing for a boycott in his Baltimore Afro-American column. "Any citizen has the right to avoid any event he does not care to attend," Marshall wrote.

Within a couple of days the Capital Press Club reached out to Marshall and offered him a forum in which to defend himself against Wismer's accusation of discrimination. He declined the invitation but wired to the Capital Press Club his response to Wismer's charges.

"Thanks for the opportunity, but I have no intention of having a public debate with Mr. Wismer on this or any other subject," Marshall replied. "The sentiments expressed by him have no connection whatsoever with this organization."

Lacy wasn't the only voice promoting a boycott. The Red Rooster Sports Committee, a New York–based activist group that comprised thirty or forty fans and former Negro athletes, sent a letter to Tim Mara, owner of the New York Giants. The missive asked Mara to work with Marshall "in the interests of his securing qualified players on the Redskins regardless of color."

The Red Roosters, who derived their name from that of a New York restaurant where the group often met to discuss the issues of the day, praised Mara and the Giants for their "own Democratic practice of hiring" but warned that unless Marshall "has a change of heart before January 31, you and other owners will be embarrassed by having to cross a picket line to get to the NFL draft in Philadelphia."

The Red Roosters promised that the league meetings would be only the first protest, stating that "the pattern of discrimination practices by the Redskins is about to result in a league wide boycott, which would seriously affect the attendance at a Giants-Redskins game at Yankee Stadium."

Tim Mara did not respond directly to the Red Roosters' letter. His son Wellington, who served as the team's secretary, did offer a quote to the press on the Giants' hiring practices. "Our team's position on this is clear," the younger Mara said. "We hire boys for their ability. We can't tell Marshall how to run his team any more than he can tell us how to run ours."

John H. Young, chairman of and spokesman for the Red Roosters, talked with Marshall by telephone and asked for the opportunity to discuss the matter face to face. Young's request for a meeting was turned down flat by Marshall, who said he would meet with the Negro representatives only if instructed to do so by the NFL commissioner.

Young had no better luck when he contacted the commissioner, Bert Bell.

There was nothing in the NFL rules that would allow him to force Marshall into a meeting, Bell explained.

"Our policy to admit all players regardless of race, color, and creed has existed since the inception of the league in 1920," Bell told reporters. "At present we have something like forty or fifty Negro boys on our teams. We were the first of the professional sports leagues to hire Negroes. Players chosen by teams are selected upon the basis of individual ability. This is a matter for individual clubs to determine." Picketing the league meeting, Bell said, would be a "very foolish and blundering thing to do."

Before concluding his impromptu press conference, the commissioner explained that he had never discussed the issue with Marshall nor did Bell ever ask Marshall's personal views on the hiring of Negroes.

"It is obvious from these actions both commissioner Bell and Mr. Marshall have entered into an agreement not to recognize our case or even give it the dignity of an audience," Young told a reporter with the Philadelphia Inquirer.


This controversy was the last thing Bert Bell needed.

For more than a decade Bell had worked tirelessly to protect and advance the NFL. He would come home from the office at five or six o'clock in the evening only to spend the next six or seven hours working the phones. For Bert there was no down time; it was always business. He had once been a well-read man of wide interests, but now Bell rarely occupied himself with any activity that didn't pertain to football. In his youth he had been one of the country's finest golfers, but he hadn't played a round since being named commissioner. Bell devoted himself wholly to the betterment of the league.

Although he unquestionably had his own ideas and convictions, Bell made certain to speak with George Halas, Art Rooney, and George Marshall whenever the league faced a big issue. It was after all Halas who for all intents and purposes had created the whole damn thing in the early twenties. Marshall came aboard a decade later, a novice to the game but full of opinions and observations on how to make football a more spectator-friendly sport. Marshall and Halas became the best of friends, though their friendship endured numerous tussles big and small. Pittsburgh's Rooney was almost always a voice of reason, but Bell was the glue that held together an eclectic band of unlikely brothers.

Bell was the game's leader and believed by many to be the most powerful man in sports, but the NFL's strength lay in its many commanding personalities. Behind closed doors, and occasionally in full public view, these men would often fight. Verbal spats, certainly. Sometimes punches were even thrown, but in the end they would come together. The best interests of the league nearly always took precedence over individual interests.


As 1956 came to a close and the new year began, the affable Bell was routinely making the short trip from his Philadelphia base to Washington. Nearly once a week Bell would board a train bound for the capital with one purpose in mind: lobbying Congress. The commissioner wanted for his league what baseball had been given decades earlier: an antitrust exemption. And within the next few weeks the Supreme Court would be handing down a ruling that would determine if pro football would be granted protection under antitrust laws.

The National Football League was approaching a crucial epoch. Antitrust exemptions were just the tip of the commissioner's agenda. Bell was planning to unveil his latest idea at the upcoming league meetings, which were scheduled to begin on the last day of January. The commissioner wanted to pool all television money and divide it equally among the teams. The big-city teams and the small-market clubs would all have a uniform share of the revenue stream. When team owners gathered in Philadelphia, the groundwork for a new NFL would be chartered. Much to Bell's chagrin, however, Marshall's hiring practices overshadowed other important issues at hand.

At 10:30 a.m. on a blustery, rainy Philadelphia day a dozen pickets gathered outside the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel.

The meetings inside had already begun before the protesters arrived. All of the attendees, team owners and coaches as well as Marshall himself, had already entered the hotel before the protesters set up their pickets on Broad Street in front of the hotel's main entrance. As the day wore on the number of picketers dwindled until only a handful of marchers remained by late afternoon. Those who stuck it out huddled underneath the building's large canopy for protection from the elements. A report making the rounds in the press revealed that, truth be told, the Red Roosters were not a bona-fide association. In fact the group had no officers, and indeed they appeared to be nothing more than a conglomeration of men who enjoyed watching and following sports — a revelation that some believed negated the grievance altogether.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Fight For Old DC by Andrew O'Toole. Copyright © 2016 Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska. Excerpted by permission of UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA PRESS.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents


Preface
Acknowledgments
Prologue: Burgundy, Gold, and Caucasian
1. “What’s the Difference?”
2. Pomp and Pageantry
3. It Takes Ten to Tango
4. There Was Interest
5. Fight for Old Dixie
6. The Last Word
7. “It’s Not That Important”
8. The Last Citadel of Segregation
9. States’ Rights Football
10. “This Isn’t a League Affair”
11. In Good Faith
12. “We Mean Business”
13. “I’m Still Running This Team”
14. “Is That All?”
15. Out of the Shadows
Epilogue: “Sit Down for Nobody”
Notes
Index
From the B&N Reads Blog

Customer Reviews