Stram signified the glory days

As the calendar continues its inexorable march toward another football season, something will be missing this fall for the first time since 1922 and will remain ever thus. Hank Stram is gone.

Sure, it has been a long time since Hall of Famer Stram prowled the sideline at Municipal Stadium and finally Arrowhead as head coach of the Kansas City Chiefs. But those of us who thrilled to the victories of the late 1960s and into 1970, will recall those days as forever the highlight of our fandom.

Known as the colorful Chiefs, this team was a reflection as much as any in history, of its coach, Mr. Innovation. In those days if you turned on the television to watch maybe the Green Bay Packers or Chicago Bears, you pretty much knew what you were about to see in terms of play. With the Chiefs it was a new adventure every Sunday. Stram's teams featured the moving pocket to better protect quarterback Len Dawson, Triple Stack defense, the Tight I Formation and the constant backfield shifts that caused consternation to opposing defenses.

Stram also had an innovative huddle where Dawson faced the team, lined up opposite him. The Mentor, as he was known, lined the players up numerically along the sideline for the National Anthem and he forbade facial hair.

Howard Cosell might have said it best during one Monday night telecast when he blurted out upon catching sight of Stram for the first time, "Ah, the rotund cherub. Sartorially resplendent ..." And that was Stram with his familiar navy blue blazer with the Chiefs logo on the breast pocket, the red vest and gray trousers and the rolled up game plan in his fist. Yeah, the guy could dress. One player said upon arriving for camp the first time that he noticed something odd about Stram's slacks but couldn't figure out what it was until it suddenly dawned on him. The pants had no pockets.

A lot has been said about Stram's firing with the oft-stated reason being his loyalty to older players. That's pretty much a myth that has been promulgated over the years. Let's take a look at the reality.

Want to know which of the Chiefs offense that were a part of the champions of 1971 were still around in 1974? Frank Pitts -- gone, Jim Tyrer -- gone, E.J. Holub -- gone, Mo Moorman -- gone, Fred Arbanas -- gone, Mike Garrett -- gone, Robert Holmes -- gone, Gloster Richardson -- gone. Still with the team were Ed Budde, Dave Hill and Len Dawson. Only Hill failed to last past the Stram era.

More defensive players (and more were younger) were still there, including: Curley Culp, Buck Buchanan, Bobby Bell, Willie Lanier, Jim Lynch, James Marsalis, Emmitt Thomas and Jim Kearney. Of that group you must remember that Lanier, Lynch and Thomas remained in their prime. Gone from the champions were Jerry Mays, Aaron Brown and Johnny Robinson. Folks, that was a trio of prime football flesh.

I must admit Buchanan and Bell, both of whom are enshrined in the NFL Hall of Fame, were decidedly past their great years. Some of the other aged players were around because draft picks had simply failed to produce. The Chiefs had also made their ill-fated trade of their No. 2 pick in 1973 for Willie Ellison and the No. 1 choice for George Seals. They also traded their second and third round picks in 1972 in an attempt to patch holes. It failed miserably.

Stram was fired after just one losing season and Jack Steadman took over, ushering in 14 years in which the team won 81 and lost 128. When Steadman, who thought he could deal with personnel better than Stram, departed, Carl Peterson came in and the team returned to respectability.

Now Stram, like so many of his players, becomes merely a ghost of greatness past when the Chiefs operated out of Municipal Stadium and ruled the football world. Maybe it was the stadium that placed a curse on the team when on the longest day in football history, Hall of Fame kicker Jan Stenerud missed two easy field goal tries. The old girl didn't want to give up her rusting girders that easily and the game drug on. Finally, a strange fog drifted into the stadium and settled in that Christmas Day, 1971. When Garo Yepremian's field goal split the uprights, the Chiefs said goodbye to more than a stadium. They also bade farewell to their greatness.

Ah Henry, those were the days and you were the architect.