Football: The Rise of Roman’s Empire

One Sunday afternoon in 1965, late in a losing game and late in a losing year, Los Angeles Ram Quarterback Bill Munson hobbled off the field with a banged-up knee. His replacement was Roman Gabriel, then in his fourth year of spotty, second-string duty. The plays were sent in by the coach and “the boys didn’t think too much of me in the huddle,” Gabriel recalls. “I can’t say that I blamed them. I had no idea how to read a defense.” He soon became a speed reader. In the season’s remaining month, Gabriel threw nine touchdown passes to account for three of the year’s four victories.

Gabriel and the Rams have come a long way since then. This year they were undefeated as they approached midseason; quite possibly, their late-November home-turf confrontation with Dallas’ potent Cowboys will be a dress rehearsal for the N.F.L. title game.

Aching Backfield. Head Coach George Allen cites Gabriel as the No. 1 reason for the Rams’ preeminence, and the reason is just the reverse of 1965: “He has the leadership, the respect of the team. And he can read defenses.” Which is a special kind of compliment, coming from Allen. A defensive coach for the Chicago Bears. Allen went to the Rams in 1966 preaching what he practiced best: defense. His work with Linemen Merlin Olsen, Deacon Jones, Roger Brown and Lamar Lundy gave them the muscular title, “Fearsome Foursome.” As for Gabriel, Allen merely gave him the football, with instructions to keep it on the ground—”to let people know,” explains Gabriel a bit defensively, “that we had a running game.”

Things loosened up in 1967. “I became more experienced,” understates Gabriel, whose 25 TD passes set a Los Angeles record. But while the Rams were still blinking at their 11-1-2 record, Green Bay’s Packers wrapped them up, 28-7, in the N.F.L. Championship game. Still, the Rams had scored 398 points, most in the league, and had surrendered the fewest, 196. Offense had caught defense, and 1968 would be the year.

Allen’s plans for a balanced effort stalled last year, when his backfield began to ache. Les Josephson, the Coastal Division’s leading rusher in 1967, underwent surgery for a ruptured Achilles’ tendon. Speedster Tommy Mason and Workhorse Dick Bass suffered assorted season-long leg miseries. “In my way of looking at it,” Gabriel says gamely, “1968 was a good test for me, because from week to week we had a different backfield, different receivers. You have to call on a lot of knowledge because you have to call plays based on what each guy can do individually.”

This year Mason and Josephson are back, close to their old selves. The big surprise, however, has been Rookie Runner Larry Smith; at 6 ft. 3 in. and 220 Ibs., he averages four yards a carry, is an excellent receiver and blocker, and can throw the half-back-option pass. Says Gabriel simply, “We just never had this depth before.”

Real Difference. The offensive line is keeping Gabriel’s britches even freer of grass stains than last year, when he was tackled, on an average, only twice a game. “Everybody has always talked about our defensive line. Well, they’ve played together for years. Now everybody up front on offense knows exactly what the others are doing. The same goes for my receivers. It makes a tremendous difference.”

The real difference remains Gabriel himself. With four years, 38 victories, 75 TD passes and a number of club records behind him, Gabriel is in full command of his team. His plays no longer come in from the sidelines, and his teammates have become believers: “If the people playing with you don’t have confidence in you—the guy who’s trying to put points on the board—then you’re not going to win games.”

At 6 ft. 4 in. and 220 Ibs.—the son of a five-foot-five father and a mother only two inches taller—Roman Gabriel is tall enough to see over charging linemen and strong enough to fend for himself when he has to. “He plants his feet,” says San Francisco Coach Dick Nolan, “and defies you to knock him down.” He is also defying the rest of the N.F.L. to keep him out of the Super Bowl.