Remembering John Madden: Raiders great Jim Otto has praise for his former boss
Jim Otto couldn’t turn the television off last week. He may not shut it off any time soon.
Nestled in his Auburn home, the greatest Raider of them all sat transfixed at the images that played before him — his old coach and friend in his element. John Madden, famed coach, broadcaster, gaming guru, Hall of Famer, died at 85. He lives on in the memories of those who knew him, appreciated him, played for him. Otto knew Madden as well as anyone and savored the flashbacks of the Madden look: arms flailing, mouth agape as he rampaged the sideline during the best era in NFL history. This was the 1970s, when Madden coached the Raiders.
“Every great man comes and leaves us, and it’s John’s turn now,” said Otto, the Raiders center from 1960-74 who remained close to the franchise and Madden over the decades. “He’s above and beyond greatness. Watching all these old clips, it’s like he’s still there. I like that. I loved that man.”
Of all of Madden’s gifts, the one that resonated most with players was how much he cared. His compassion belied his frantic sideline behavior, or when he really became nationally known after coaching, when he burst through paper Miller Lite ads as the work-a-day pitchman.
“Simple. That was John Madden,” Otto said. “That’s what I liked about him the most. Every time I saw him, when I played for him, all those years after and in recent years, he was very real. Just a great man. What you saw in John is what we got. We’re missing a great man now. That’s why I won’t shut the TV off. I want to keep watching.”
Otto put in an encouraging vote for Madden in 1969 when general managing partner Al Davis sought a new coach. Madden got the job at 32 after serving two years as Raiders linebacker coach. He got that gig after Bill Walsh left the Raiders after one season as an assistant to try his hand coaching a semi-pro team in the Continental Football League. Walsh, of course, later led the 49ers to championship success as a Hall of Fame coach.
Otto was two years younger than Madden, but no one doubted the coach’s ability to lead. Players liked him, respected him, Otto said. Madden and Otto were kindred spirits. Madden always had a soft spot for linemen, having been one himself at Cal Poly and through a 1958 training camp with the Philadelphia Eagles before a wrecked knee turned him to coaching, and no one captured the role of lineman leader, playing hurt and inspired, more than Otto, also a Hall of Famer.
Otto’s training camp antics
Madden appealed to the rough-and-tumble Raiders because he didn’t dwell on too many rules. Didn’t care about sideburns, long hair, leather coats and boots or if players showed up on motorcycles. Show up on time, pay attention, and then play like madmen on game day, was the Madden motto.
The coach could also roll with a good gag. Once, during Raiders training camp in Santa Rosa, there were grumblings that some players had too much furniture in their dorm rooms. So Otto threw a couch out of a window.
“It was a day John Madden raised heck about some furniture and I happened to be one of those guys involved with furniture, so that’s where the furniture went flying out the window,” Otto said with a laugh.
Otto irked his coach for all the right reasons. After getting his battered knees drained, or simply walking out of a hospital to return to camp, Madden ordered Otto to take it easy. That was like someone instructing Madden to coach without emotion. Otto is indebted to the Raiders and Madden. Both gave him a measure of immortality.
Madden gave Otto one last moment of glory during the 1975 training camp, though Otto’s body was failing him from more than 250 games of preseason, regular season, playoffs and All-Star games. Otto took his final snaps on the opening drive of a preseason game against the 49ers, having been named a game captain by Madden, and then retired the next day.
Otto recalls Madden’s later years
Otto remained a fixture with the franchise and a regular at games. He saw Madden’s health decline. Madden suffered from stress, bleeding ulcers and sleepless nights. In the Super Bowl season of 176, Otto saw Madden gulp down Pepto Bismol by the bottle.
By 1978, Madden, was on fumes, suffering an occupational malady that didn’t yet have a title: burnout. The Aug. 12, 1978 home preseason game against the New England Patriots deeply affected Madden. Early in that game, Patriots receiver Darryl Stingley went up for a pass thrown over the middle, too high, and was crushed on a hit by safety Jack Tatum.
Stingley crumpled to the turf, motionless. He never walked again. After that game, Madden hustled over to the hospital in nearby Castro Valley to see Stingley. He remained by his bedside overnight. Madden was angered that no one from the Patriots was there, and that no one was coming. He phoned the airport and demanded the plane not leave. Finally, a Patriots official de-boarded and headed to the hospital.
Madden visited Stingley regularly for the three months the star Patriots player was hospitalized in the Bay Area. Stingley and Madden remained close over the years. Stingley died in 2007. Madden once said, “On the field, we play hard. But when something like Darryl’s injury happens, we are all in this game together.”
George Blanda, who closed out his Hall of Fame career with the Raiders, once said, “Of all the coaches I played for, John Madden was the kindest and most thoughtful.”
Otto was there in January of 1979 when Madden announced his coaching retirement. His final Raiders team went 9-7, the team’s poorest showing since 1964. Madden was cooked.
“We worried about John’s health,” Otto said.
Madden said during his retirement news conference, “I burned out. I’m not a low-key guy. I’m John Madden. You get to a point where you have to step aside. I realized when I first took this job that because of the emotional way I coach, I could eventually burn out. And that’s what happened. I’m burned out. For 10 years, I gave it everything I had and I don’t have any more.”
Otto can relate to bodily aches, mortality
When Madden was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2006, Otto was there. Otto is always there, but he knows that won’t always be the case. For this story, he was asked how he was doing. Otto always booms of good cheer, and despite his pain of losing Madden, he still showed it.
The Hall of Famer has endured hurt. He has undergone more than 75 surgeries, including 28 on his knees, all tied to football. His ears are cauliflowered from so many blows to the side of his helmet. His nose was broken more than a dozen times. He’s had more than 200 stitches in his face alone. In 2007, his lower right leg was amputated. He has been at death’s door, but he keeps going, flanked by wife Sally.
“I’m OK,” Otto insists. “I don’t feel that bad. It’s tough sometimes. I’ve got an old body and I have to take good care of it. Sally helps me. That’s the way it is. But you know what? When I see games or highlights on TV, it makes me feel like I can do it again.”