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Slightly Touching Greatness
One day more than 20 years ago I was in the middle of a routine day at work, when suddenly I found myself on a phone call with Jim Brown. One of his organizations had cold called me and before I truly understood what was going on, connected me to Brown. He was looking for federal funding for crime prevention programs serving at-risk youth. While Brown described how the program worked and the need for it in his community, I sat there stunned, still not quite believing I was talking to, mostly listening to, Jim Brown. Brown retired from football several years before I was born, so I had seen his exploits only in highlight films. Still, I knew he was my dad’s favorite player. While the Washington then-Redskins were my father’s local team, they were horrible in the late 50s and the early 60s. Brown’s tough running style, filled with grace and power, easily won my father over. Dad told me how Brown would never let the vicious tackles he endured bother him. Sometimes Brown would even compliment a defensive player who hit him hard. As I kid, I began to learn more about Brown when Walter Payton broke his rushing record. Brown won eight rushing titles in his nine seasons. No other running back has more than four. Most running backs would consider it a career highlight to rush for more than 100 yards a game or more than 5 yards a rush in a season. Brown did both for his entire career. Opposing defenses knew he was getting the ball, as his team didn’t have much of a passing game. It didn’t matter. No one could stop him. No one that is, except Cleveland Browns owner Art Modell. In 1966 Brown asked to come late to training camp so he could complete working on The Dirty Dozen. While Brown would have still been back in plenty of time for the regular season, Modell foolishly said no and that he would fine Brown for every day he was late. Brown, never one to suffer fools gladly, simply walked away from football. All of Brown’s football exploits rattled around in my head while I listened to Brown make the case for why his programs deserved federal funding. Now would be a good time to add that I have absolutely no role in funding decisions. None at all. Not now and not then. Did Jim Brown realize this? If not, I was sure not going to interrupt him to point that out. He never asked me what my role was before or during delivering his pitch. When Jim Brown talks, you listen, period. Brown made the most of his innate ability to have people listen. He grew up in Jim Crow Georgia and became a passionate civil rights advocate. Brown worked with both Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. Along with Bill Russell, Jim Brown modeled how famous athletes could use their voices to effect change. Brown and Russell convened the iconic Cleveland Summit, where they and other contemporaries such as Lew Alcindor (later Kareem Abdul-Jabbar), heard Muhammad Ali speak about his refusal to join the U.S. Army to serve in Vietnam. On the NFL Network, Dr. Harry Edwards explained that the Summit’s goal was not initially to support Ali. Many of the athletes there had served in the military or knew people that did and were skeptical of Ali’s stance. But Brown and Russell convinced them to listen, and Ali’s convictions won them over. By the end of the summit, everyone there might not have agreed with Ali, but they supported his right to refuse. The summit rallied support among the greater black community and others in the U.S. at a time when Ali most needed it. Brown was far from perfect. He was accused of domestic violence five times. In 1999, he was arrested and served six months in prison for bashing his wife’s car. It took him too long, but he did learn from his mistakes, saying in 2015 that “There is no excuse for violence. There is never a justification for anyone to impose themselves on someone else. And it will always be incorrect when it comes to a man and a woman, regardless of what might have happened. You need to be man enough to take the blow. That is always the best way. Do not put your hands on a woman.” While I continued to listen to Brown that day, I recalled his aura, his presence. This was the man who convinced the leaders of rival L.A. gangs to come to his house peacefully for a truce discussion. Not happy with the programs serving at-risk young black men, Brown created his own, including the one he was describing to me. His gravitas shined even by phone, as I sat there still thinking “How in the world am I talking to Jim Brown?” What I didn’t know much of back then was Brown’s film career. Even now I’m not proud that haven’t seen many of his films. The Dirty Dozen took Brown’s athleticism, steadfastness, and intelligence from football stardom to movie stardom. I laughed at the scene in Sleepless in Seattle where Tom Hanks raves about Brown’s hand grenade scene, but Brown’s speed, agility and determination truly make it work. Brown’s acting ability wasn’t going to win him any Oscars, but he did become a credible action hero. He headlined many “blaxploitation” films, and even parodied them in Keenan Ivory Wayans’s I’m Gonna Get You Sucka. In 1999, Brown co-starred in Oliver Stone’s Any Given Sunday. Stone had hoped to have authentic NFL teams and uniforms, but the league, concerned about showing football’s unsavory aspects, denied his request. No matter. Brown playing the football team’s defensive coordinator gave Any Given Sunday all the authenticity it needed. Reportedly Brown helped Stone direct the many ex-NFLers featured. Eventually my call with Jim Brown ended and I filed the memory away, to dust off occasionally when I would see Brown on the NFL Network. He would deservedly come up whenever football experts listed the all-time greats. When the Cleveland Cavaliers won the NBA Finals in 2016, Brown showed up for the victory parade. Fitting as his Browns team had won Cleveland’s last championship in 1964. When I learned of Brown’s death a couple of weeks ago, I contemplated the loss of the football star, movie star and activist. I thought of everything Brown represented to my father’s generation, and how much he still means to so many people of any age. Most of all, I remembered that day all those years ago when, for 20 minutes, I ever so slightly touched greatness. Adam Spector June 1, 2023 Contact us: |
