Taste for Honey

PRO FOOTBALL

The experts picked the Chicago Bears to finish no better than second in the National Football League's Western Conference. Everybody conceded them a hard-nosed defense--but offense makes pro football champions these days. The Bears just laughed. Their ferocious defense held opponents to an average ten points in 14 games, clawed the champion Green Bay Packers so mercilessly that the Packers scored one touchdown, one field goal in two tries. Bored sportswriters still called the Bears "the faceless wonders." Yet old George Halas' team won eleven games, tied two and lost only one.

Just One Slip-Up. Last week the Bears came up against the Eastern champion New York Giants in the N.F.L. playoff. And--crunch--defense won again. Onto Chicago's Wrigley Field pranced the high-scoring (32 points per game) Giants, with wonderful Y. A. Tittle and his acrobatic receivers--Del Shofner, Frank Gifford, Aaron Thomas. There stood the glowering Bears, aching to cuff them around. At 7:22 of the first quarter, Tittle lofted his 37th touchdown pass of the year--a soft, 14-yd. beauty to Gifford. It was the only mistake the Bears made all day. A few minutes later, Tittle tried one of his patented screen passes--a play designed to suck in linebackers, then flip the ball over their heads to a waiting halfback. But the Bears were the ones who were waiting. Chicago Linebacker Larry Morris plucked the ball out of the air on his own 34--and ran to the Giant five be fore he collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Bear Quarterback Billy Wade punched across the TD, and it was 7-7.

The Giants scratched out a field goal to make it 10-7. But wrestling bears is no sport for city boys. One after another, the Giants retired to the bench, with assorted broken arms, concussions and the like. Late in the second period Linebacker Morris--only 6-ft. 2-in., 230 Ibs., small as Bears go--thundered into the Giant backfield and slammed into Tittle. Pop went Tittle's left knee.

Another Disaster. Giant doctors shot him full of novocain and cortisone, sent him back for the second half. Tittle tried another screen pass. This time "Big Ed" O'Bradovich, a 6-ft. 3-in., 255-lb. end, picked it off and lumbered to the Giant 14. Quarterback Wade scored again for the Bears. After that there was only desperation. Tittle threw, and the Bears intercepted--once, twice, the last on a frantic heave into the end zone with only five seconds left. The ball sailed into the arms of Chicago Safetyman Richie Petitbon. Final score: Bears 14, Giants 10.

Quarterback Tittle sank weeping onto the Giant bench. Other Giants told everybody that "the best team lost." But Papa Bear Halas, with his eighth championship in 36 years, paid no attention. He just wrapped Larry Morris in a delirious hug; then everybody picked up his honey pot ($6,000 per man) and ambled off to hibernate.

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