Articles about John Brodie

Brodie gets groundswell of support for NFL Hall of Fame
by Stuart Hall, Golf Press Association
January 7, 2008
STATELINE, Nev. -- American Century champion and former NFL quarterback Billy Joe Tolliver wants to create a grass-roots program to get John Brodie into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Current NFL quarterback Chris Chandler believes Brodie's omission is an injustice. "Almost everybody you talk to goes, 'When was Brodie in the Hall of Fame?' or everybody thinks he is," Chandler said. "There's not a person out there who doesn't think he's in the Hall of Fame. Should have been in the Hall of Fame years ago." Brodie, a 17-year NFL veteran, two-time Pro-Bowler and 1970 Most Valuable Player, who later joined the Senior PGA Tour and won the 1991 Security Pacific Championship, was honored this week at the American Century Championship at Edgewood Tahoe Golf Course with the inaugural "The Brodie." The award is presented to an athlete or personality who has achieved crossover success encompassing his or her career field and in golf. "To honor him this week is something pretty special," said Chandler, a 17-year NFL quarterback with eight teams who is also Brodie's son- in-law. "I just wish the NFL would do what they should have done a while ago and honored him in the Hall of Fame as well." Brodie, who suffered a massive stroke five years ago, was in attendance this week to receive the award, and the buzz among NFL players in the field, especially quarterbacks, was the fact Brodie is not a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. "I didn't get to watch him play when I was growing up, but when you talk to those who played with or against him, though, they talk about his confidence and swagger on the field," said Steve Beuerlein, who just retired after a 17-year NFL career with six different teams. "There's no disputing the success he had on the field." Brodie, who grew up in the East Bay section of San Francisco and later was an All-America at Stanford, was the first-round draft pick of the San Francisco 49ers in 1957. During a 17-year career spent entirely with the 49ers, Brodie played 201 games, completing 2,469 passes for 31,548 yards and 214 touchdowns. His finest season was his MVP campaign in 1970, when he completed 223 of 378 passes (58.9 percent) for 2,941 yards and 24 touchdowns and 10 interceptions. "I remember that season, because I completed three of four passes, which means I didn't play an awful lot," said University of South Carolina coach Steve Spurrier, who served as Brodie's backup for seven years in San Francisco. In 1965, Brodie threw for 3,112 yards and 30 touchdowns in 13 games. "You have to remember, he played in a different era," Beuerlein said. "He didn't have all of the rules that benefit the passing game that you do today. To do what he did was a lot harder back then." Part of the problem with Brodie not being in the Hall of Fame may have something to do with the teams he played on. During his career, the 49ers had a regular-season record of 110-111-9. Brodie also never led San Francisco to a Super Bowl title, his best opportunities thwarted by NFC Championship game losses to Dallas in 1970 and 1971. "The Hall of Fame doesn't define John Brodie's career in my eyes," said Ahmad Rashad, a former NFL receiver and current ABC/ESPN sports host. "He's in the hall of fame for people, in my opinion. If you ever met him, you would be meeting one of the most warm and wonderful people on this earth." Rashad said he first met Brodie when he was about to attend the University of Oregon in the late 1960s and Brodie was playing for the 49ers. Brodie made a lasting impression on Rashad, and later the two had an opportunity to play golf. "Oh man, I was just starting out and wasn't any good," Rashad said, "but John was patient and as helpful as anyone could be with me. You just cannot say enough good things about the man." Spurrier was in agreement. "We killed a lot of time together in training camp," he said. "We played a lot of golf together, cards and the like. We were really good friends and had a lot in common. I don't think you would find too many backups who are really good friends with the starting quarterback these days." Spurrier also recalls a time back in the early 1990s when athletes from various sports were brought together for a tournament in Florida, not unlike this week's American Century Championship. He was paired with Brodie and another former teammate, George Mira -- all of whom were quarterbacks on the San Francisco 49er roster in 1967 and '68. "Brodes goes out and shoots something like 71 and me and Mira shoot like 81 or 82," Spurrier said. "And I told George he was still kicking his understudies' butt." Brodie has not been able to play golf since the stroke, but Chandler said his father-in-law is enjoying other aspects of his life. "Not really being able to play any golf, and he's probably not speaking as well as we all want him to, but he's in as good a mood and as happy as he ever has been," Chandler said. "He spends a lot of time playing with the girls and all his grandkids, and he never did that before. So it's kind of a new phase of his life." Now if he could just get into the Hall of Fame. http://handicap.golf.com/gdc/news/article.asp?id=34085&tour=PGA Updated: July 28, 2006, 8:01 PM ET SANTA CLARA, Calif. -- John Brodie thinks his old No. 12 jersey will be a perfect fit on Trent Dilfer with the San Francisco 49ers. Paul Sakuma /AP Photo Trent Dilfer, right, wanted to honor former 49ers quarterback John Brodie by wearing his old number. Dilfer chose the number as a tribute to the 1970 NFL MVP, who made two Pro Bowls while playing in his native San Francisco from 1957-73. Dilfer also hopes the gesture will get the attention of the veterans committee that could elect Brodie to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. "It's probably the biggest honor of my career to this point," said Dilfer, who led Baltimore to a Super Bowl victory in 2001. "J.B. has been one of the biggest influences on my career. As soon as I got traded, it wasn't five minutes when I called and asked if he would be honored by this." Brodie, who will turn 71 next month, still is recovering from a serious stroke in October 2000, but the excitement on his face made his feelings clear. The 49ers acquired Dilfer in an offseason trade with Cleveland to land a reliable veteran backup for Alex Smith. When the Northern California native heard he was coming home, Dilfer hatched a plan to wear his hero's number -- and Brodie readily agreed. "It certainly says something about John that he does that," said coach Mike Nolan -- whose father, Dick, was the 49ers' coach during Brodie's final six NFL seasons. "Trent is a guy that has a tremendous amount of respect for the old-school guys, and that says a lot to me, too." Dilfer and Brodie met through former NFL quarterback Chris Chandler, who is Dilfer's friend and Brodie's son-in-law. The quarterbacks soon struck up a friendship through golf and common football experiences. Brodie passed for 31,548 yards -- 25th in NFL history -- in 17 seasons with the Niners, and his 214 TD passes are 20th-most in the league. Though San Francisco struggled through much of his early career, Brodie led the 49ers to the NFC championship game in 1970 -- their final game in old Kezar Stadium -- and 1971, their first season in Candlestick. Nolan remembers watching Brodie during his playing days, including particular passes to Gene Washington, the four-time Pro Bowl receiver who's now a league executive. After his NFL career, Brodie became an excellent competitive golfer during 15 years on the Senior Tour, even winning the 1991 Security Pacific Senior Classic. Dilfer and Brodie still golf regularly, and the younger quarterback praised his mentor's competitive nature, even after all these years. "I really believe John should be in the Hall of Fame, and hopefully this will create some awareness of his career and how spectacular it was," Dilfer said. Though the 34-year-old Dilfer is Smith's backup, he remains eager to play. He is particularly pleased to be in offensive coordinator Norv Turner's West Coast offense for the first time. "I love this system," Dilfer said. "This is the system that I've always wanted to be a part of." Copyright 2006 by The Associated Press http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2533021 On Oct. 23, 2000, while at son Bill's jouse in Newport Beach, Calif. watching the "The doctors didn't offer a lot of hope, but they didn't really know" says Brodie's wife of 46 years, Sue. "It really takes a lot of determination, a strong will and the desire to survice and get better." On an average of about six times a year Brodie, 68, has traveled to Texas fo four- or six-week treatment sessions that include intensive speech and exercise therapy as well as electrical stimulation of his right arm and leg. Brodie's vocabulary is up to more than 1,000 words. (In an attempt to re-create speech patterns, the therapist has played tapes from Brodie's 11 years as an NFL commentator for NBC.) His right leg is almost as functional as it was before his stroke, he can lift his right arm paralel to the floor, and he now travels to Texas by himself. (His physicians and physical therapist have applied for a new patent on their aggressive techniques.) "He's always looking for something to strive for and it's very positive," says Bill.
Dilfer to wear longtime hero Brodie's No. 12

An MVP with the 49ers, a Senior golf tour winner and a TV commentator, Brodie is battling back from a stroke. 
"That's why he had success in football, too."
The Brodies also have four daughters-Kelly, Cammie, Diane and Erin-as well as 10
| PROFILE: JOHN BRODIE Brian Murphy, Chronicle Staff Writer
John Brodie's Arm was Always Special. | |
| It threw 214 touchdown passes in a 17-year NFL career, all with the 49ers from 1957 to 1973. It held a microphone for NBC Sports for 11 years, when Brodie was a tanned and polished TV analyst on NFL games. It guided Brodie's golf clubs to victory on the Senior PGA Tour, at Los Angeles' Rancho Park in 1991. But now, on a bright afternoon in the California desert, in a La Quinta Country Club dining room overlooking green fairways, blue skies and dust- colored mountains, John Brodie, at 68, is trying to make his right arm do something else. He's trying to make it move. Flanked at the lunch table by his wife of 46 years, Sue, and his son-in- law, professional tennis coach Larry Stefanki, Brodie slowly moves the right arm away from his body, then up, cautiously, steadily. After a few seconds, the arm is as high as his head. Brodie's eyes brighten. He smiles, still holding his arm high. Three years removed from a massive stroke that nearly killed him, he can still only speak haltingly, carefully. His enthusiasm, though, is obvious. "Looking good!" he says. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brodie's second life began Oct. 23, 2000. While watching the longest-ever "Monday Night Football'' game between the New York Jets and Miami Dolphins, the right side of Brodie's face began to sag, and his speech slurred. He felt ill all day, and all night. Sue Brodie didn't know what was happening, and feared her husband was having a heart attack. She took him to Eisenhower Medical Center in Rancho Mirage the next morning. It didn't take any time for cardiologist Dr. Khoi Le to tell her: John was having a massive stroke and might not live. A stroke occurs when blood flow to the brain is halted or slowed by a clot or burst in an artery. The brain, not receiving blood, begins to die. In a condition doctors blamed on Brodie's lifelong smoking habit, the carotid artery on the left side of his neck was 100 percent blocked. On the right side, his artery was 90 percent blocked. An MRI exam told doctors instantly that Brodie's speech would be permanently damaged. More pressing, Brodie's life hung in the balance. Only a radical procedure called interventional radiology -- a stent inserted in Brodie's femoral artery worked its way up to the neck -- saved his life. The life saved, however, was radically different. No longer would John Brodie have a cigarette in one hand, a Scotch in the other and a quick joke or brash opinion coming off his lips. No longer would he breezily call his friends ''Pards,'' golf-talk for "partner," as he strolled the fairways. No longer would this wonderboy athlete perform wonders on the playing fields. Brodie lay in a bed, attached to a feeding tube. He couldn't speak, except to curse, his first post-stroke word a profanity. Longtime friend and pro golfer Bob Rosburg, Brodie's partner when they won the 1970 pro-am at the old Crosby tournament, visited him in the hospital. Rosburg, who lives a few doors down from Brodie in La Quinta, came away depressed. "I told my wife, and she agreed: 'I think he's just going to give up,' " Rosburg said. "I didn't think he had a chance ... I've seen others who have had strokes, but John was as bad as I've seen." Stefanki, who had spent the day with Brodie, as he often does with the man he only calls ''J.B.,'' had to make the tough phone calls. He reached Cammie Brodie, the second-oldest of the five children, in the Bay Area. He told Cammie to grab Erin, the Brodies' youngest child, who lived in San Francisco, and to fly to Palm Springs immediately. "He told us to come to say goodbye before he dies," Cammie Brodie said. Said Sue: "There is no way he should have survived." In dark moments, at least one family member wondered if Brodie would take his own life. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Only when you notice the right arm, curled in, and when Brodie tries to speak is his condition apparent. The hurdle, though, doesn't stop him. During an afternoon visit, he roars with laughter at old stories told by Stefanki, who married Brodie's eldest daughter, Kelly. He works himself into a lather of excitement at old photos of 49ers pals he treasures: Dave Wilcox, Matt Hazeltine, Dave Parks, Cedrick Hardman, Y.A. Tittle. Brodie motions in the air with his left hand, spelling out words to help explain his thoughts. And when the words don't come, he says, loud and clear, his favorite phrase: "Looking good!" Well, maybe his second-favorite phrase. His favorite is unprintable. During a visit with Brodie, you will hear the following come out of his mouth: "Really good!" Or, "Jesus Christ!" Or, "No kidding!" Or, "Beautiful!" Or, "Holy s---!" Or, "God damn!" Or, his longest burst, "You can't even believe it!" Brodie expresses himself best while traveling down memory lane. Sue gets out a massive scrapbook containing almost every newspaper clipping of Brodie's NFL and golf career. Stefanki pulls down the 1970 49ers media guide, the year of his MVP campaign. Brodie smiles at the sight. "Yes!" he nearly shouts. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brodie's lifelong affinity for a drink and a smoke made his body cry out for a taste. He sat at the country club, unable to do much else but sit. Walking was difficult. His right arm was adhered to his chest, his hand nearly grafted to his neck. "God, the first year was awful," Rosburg said. Diane Brodie could not match her dormant, depressed father with the larger-than-life figure who dominated her childhood. "His motivation was gone," she said from her Chicago home, where Chandler now plays for the Bears. "He was always the life of the party. His energy is massive. You can imagine the void." Then, one day last year, Rosburg spoke with Charles Coody, the golfer who won the 1971 Masters. Coody was a friend of Brodie's from the Senior Tour and asked Rosburg how Brodie was doing. Not well, Rosburg said. Coody had an idea. In his hometown of Abilene, Texas, some doctors and physical therapists were running a non-traditional clinic for stroke patients, a place called Rebound Sports and Physical Therapy. There, they used what Rebound calls "investigational" techniques not approved by mainstream doctors. Perhaps Brodie would like to try it. The Brodies liked the idea. John and Sue had always embraced alternative ideas, dating back to Brodie's since-terminated but once-intense relationship with the Church of Scientology, which he credited for healing a broken arm in 1964. It would mean Brodie spending much of his time in Abilene, away from Sue. But she had full-time real estate work to occupy her, and Rebound was willing to do the work on Brodie for free, in exchange for the right to use his name on their rehab clinics once their techniques are patented. The Brodies say their choices boiled down to two: Go to Abilene and try this new approach. Or listen to other doctors who told them a stroke patient cannot make any meaningful progress one year after a stroke. Imbued with a belief in the power of the human mind the family attributes to the Scientology background, the choice was easy for the Brodies. "Doctors are wrong," Sue Brodie said. "They do what they can do, and the rest is up to the patient." Abilene, it was. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A trip through his scrapbook reveals as much. After sitting behind Tittle from 1957-60, Brodie defined the 49ers teams that missed the playoffs from 1957-70 against a backdrop of fan disgust and seagull droppings at creaky old Kezar Stadium. Though Brodie had brilliant ups -- he led the NFL in completions, passing yards and TDs in 1965 -- he also had downs, throwing 22 interceptions to 16 TDs in 1966. Fans chanted "We Want Mira!" or "We Want Spurrier!" Or they booed. Famously short-tempered for what he perceived as dumb questions from reporters, he once said of the boos, "I'd have heard 'em if I was down at Third and Market ... I can't turn off my ears." Another time, he offered an olive branch to the denizens. "All week long, they catch hell from their bosses and maybe sometimes from their wives," he said in the 1960s. "They get all jammed up. Who could blame them? One day a week, they get out to the game, and all of a sudden, they're my bosses. They can shout whatever they want. OK, let 'em." The booing was such a dominant theme, running back Ken Willard defended Brodie in front of a fan club in Oregon, saying: "Them booing John Brodie makes you ashamed to play for that city." Still, Brodie was prized by football insiders. Bears coach George Halas was quoted saying, "If they're sick of him, I'll take Brodie tomorrow." And the AFL's Houston Oilers offered Brodie the then-staggering sum of $750,000 over 10 years to leave the NFL after the 1965 season. For Brodie, who made $35, 000 from the 49ers that year, it was a testament to his talent that spoke louder than Kezar boos. The 49ers responded by keeping Brodie with a contract believed to be worth $1 million. The Chronicle credited Brodie's AFL dalliance with ushering in the merge of the NFL and AFL, writing: "When Houston approached him, it convinced the NFL of the potential disaster." If the booing rankled Brodie deep inside, he didn't show it outwardly. Bronzed and handsome, Brodie carried himself with such a presence, the Saturday Evening Post dispatched writer Herbert Wilner to profile Brodie. Wrote Wilner: "John Brodie is a man at ease and the ease has a style: a California aura of sun, satisfaction and winner-take-all." No matter the game, either. Brodie played in the World Dominoes Championship. Nobody wanted a piece of him in a game of cards. Same with bowling. Or ping-pong. His backgammon prowess was legendary, and he played it with a competitive fire. Daughter Erin was his closest competition, and they'd play for high stakes: If Erin won, she got $100. If her dad won, she had to make him an omelette early the next morning before golf. "I've never seen a guy who could play more games well than John," Rosburg said. "If somebody said: Let's have a decathlon of different sports or games, he might have won it all." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I knew it was a tough row to hoe." Brodie came with a goal: to play golf again. "I told John: I can't get you to drop back and throw a pass," Phillips said, "but we can get your arm to your side, get your arm up and attempt to comb your hair. Obviously, the ultimate idea was to swing a golf club." An added problem was Brodie's aphasia, a condition where his mind processes thoughts but is unable to articulate them. Brodie fell back on his familiar curse words. "When he came, he had a six-word vocabulary," Phillips said, "and five of 'em I can't repeat to you." His speech therapist, Nora Thurman, a professor of speech language pathology at Abilene Christian University, sensed a willingness but damaged confidence. She listened to Brodie's old tapes from NBC and heard an articulate and frank man. Her plan: jolt Brodie's memory with images from his past. She collected photos and images from the 49ers and the Senior PGA Tour and showed them to John. His reactions were passionate. Soon, in what Thurman credits to Brodie's "indomitable spirit," he built up a "scaffolded" vocabulary of what she estimates is now around 1,000 words. By "scaffolded," she means he has to be prompted for most of it. When John and Sue talk at home, she often takes his two- and three-word cues and finishes his thought. The communication style is choppy but effective. Thurman knew things were improving when during an exercise one day she asked him for a word beginning with "k." "Knowledge," Brodie said. Thus began what he and Sue credit for his turnaround: therapy, therapy, therapy. Along with chiropractor Scott Wofford, neurologist Paul Harris, the team at Rebound has the full confidence of Brodie. "Oh, man!" Brodie says of his work at Abilene. "Really good!" He spends weeks at a time there. He flies on his own. He pays for a room at a local hotel and his own food, but the work provided by Rebound is gratis. It involves acupuncture and electric voltages stimulating muscles, but nobody at Rebound wants to disclose the full details, calling it "proprietary information.'' They say if all goes well, the John Brodie Stroke Treatment Center will open sometime this year, perhaps in Texas, perhaps in Palm Springs. As of now, Brodie can get a golf club about halfway through a backswing. "John never gets down, never," Phillips said. "The treatment is very aggressive, very hard work, and painful at times. He winces, but he never gets down. I'm sure that parallels his career, too." In California, he continues nontraditional methods. Sue's massage therapist recently recommended a treatment called Scaler Waves, where electromagnetic waves in a room ostensibly affect the interior of cells. Brodie is a willing participant, believing the Scaler Waves are healing cells damaged in the stroke. Whether the Scaler Waves, or the work in Abilene, or simply Brodie's fighting spirit winning out over the option of surrender, everyone close to him has seen a dramatic change in the last 18 months. "Since he's been in Texas, it's a whole different deal," Rosburg said. "He's really giving it a go." Said Erin: "It's incredible to see my dad go from being really scared to being this fire-horse." His personality, always leaning towards larger-than-life, returned with his thumbs-up/thumbs-down assessments and opinions and roaring laughter. It was Brodie who encouraged Erin to be a contestant on NBC's reality romance show, "For Love or Money" when Sue was initially skeptical. Erin brought her new boyfriend from the show, Chad Viggiano, to La Quinta before Thanksgiving, and the new guy passed muster. The Brodie refrigerator is dotted with photos of the 10 grandchildren, and a large color photo on the side shows 16 brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews and nieces -- with Viggiano in the middle. Brodie approves, pointing at him and saying, "Really good! Yes!" Cammie, the only Brodie who still lives in the Bay Area, credits her father's rise more to his constitution than to any therapy. "It's who he is," Cammie said. "He's such a lover of people and life. It doesn't matter what technique they're using. I like to give him and his spirit the credit. His attitude and determination, I just like to be around it. It rubs off. When I visit him, I come back bigger every time." Dr. Le still sees him to check on his heart and is impressed by Brodie's resolve. "As an athlete, sure, there are physical things that probably set him apart from the average person," Dr. Le said. "But there also is probably a spirit, that of a competitor, to rise to the challenge." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- At home, Brodie produces a color photo of himself and Tittle, at midfield, from Alumni Day. Brodie's affection for his old teammate remains strong. "Hey," he says, pointing to Tittle. "Really, really good." On the same trip, John and Sue visited Stanford, where the two met in an English class in 1954, before John took Sue on their first big date -- to the Fairmont Hotel's Tonga Room on March 6, 1955, as she remembers to this day. Back in the La Quinta clubhouse, as John heartily eats a Cobb salad for lunch, Sue finds it hard to criticize her husband's outlook. "Once in a while I've seen him down," Sue says, "but not for more than 10 minutes. I get frustrated with it all, too, but I usually just leave the room when that happens." Erin says he's healthier now that he doesn't drink or smoke, and that in a funny way, this robust and athletic man loves life even more these days, even though he's robbed of his athletics. She says he laughs more than ever. He cries more at TV shows and movies. His son-in-law Stefanki is mounting a drive to get Brodie into the Pro Football of Hall of Fame. Brodie gives his grandkids golf lessons from the golf cart. He still loves sports and follows his son-in-law's Bears and his old team closely. His way of expressing love may be modified, but it's there. When Diane's 8-year-old daughter, Ryann, who is the family artist, was drawing a picture at the home of "Gaga and Papa" -- as Sue and John are known to the grandkids -- Brodie walked by and inspected the art. "F -- ing great!" he barked. The filter is gone. But the limited vocabulary doesn't stunt conversation. Over lunch, Sue brings up a funny TV commercial by a beer company, and Brodie throws his head back, laughing. His laugh is huge. Later, the plates are being cleared when Brodie reaches out and puts his left hand under Sue's chin. He rubs it, and there is a spark in his eye. "Looking good!" he says. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- JOHN BRODIE. PERSONAL Married: Wife, Sue, of 46 years Children: Four daughters (Kelly 46; Cammie, 43; Diane, 41; Erin, 31); and one son (Billy, 39). Ten grandchildren Home: La Quinta (Riverside County). College career -- Stanford: Class of 1957 -- First-team All-American: 1956 -- Heisman Trophy: Finished seventh in voting in 1956 -- College Football Hall of Fame: Inducted in 1986. Professional Football -- 49ers: 1957-73 -- First-team All-Pro: 1965, 1970 -- NFL MVP: 1970 -- Jersey No. 12 retired -- Team record 17 years with 49ers -- Second in team history with 31,548 passing yards -- Third in team history with 214 TD passes -- Led 49ers to NFC Championship Game in 1970, 1971. Golf Career -- Joined Senior PGA Tour: 1985 -- Earnings: More than $735,000 from 1985-98 -- Top-10 finishes: 12 -- Career win: 1991 Security Pacific Senior Open, Los Angeles http://johnbrodiestrokerecoverycenters.com/spirited.html
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