OCR Text |
Show by Jim Murray MnnuDay nim poirtt Master of the short pass One knock against the Los Angeles Raiders is, they never have anyone who can throw short. But it's a bum rap. The world thinks their attack consists of everybody-goes-long, the QB closes his eyes, winds up and heaves the ball toward the horizon as high as he can get it and hopes Cliff Branch is there when it comes down. It's called the "Hail Mary" pass. It's the football equivalent of putting a note in a bottle bot-tle and tossing it overboard. But the facts are, the Raiders have one of the best short passers in the history of football. foot-ball. He has never thrown an interception. He has rarely thrown an incompletion. Every point his team scores is the direct result of a completed pass by him. You talk about throwing a pass to a back coming out of the backfield, that's the only kind this guy throws. He hasn't completed a pass over the line of scrimmage in his career. Fran Tarkenton completed 3,686 passes in his career and the detractors say that resulted in an accumulation of 2,809 yards net. (A canard: Francis' total was 47,003 yards.) But Francis' total would only make a couple of good seasons for the Raiders' star. He completes 70 to 80 passes a game. Fran Tarkenton could complete passes a lot of ways, usually back over his shoulder while he was running for his life the other way, but you have to ask yourself if he could complete passes standing on his head. Dave Dalby doesn't complete them any other way. Dave Dalby spends his life looking at the world upside down. He is the center for the Raider football team, which has had only two since its inception over 23 years ago. You talk about job security. Center Cen-ter for the Raiders makes the post office look seasonal. It's a lifetime job. It makes Civil Service look iffy. It's kind of like putting out oil well fires or milking snakes. I mean, someone has to do it. But not everyone can, and almost nobody wants to. It's not a position, it's a punishment. In the old days when the head slap was legal, the center knew he was going to get the old one-two one-two to the ear the minute his hands started back with the ball. Now, in the days of the three-four defense, the center gets some 300-pound 300-pound homicidal behemoth who wants to use hiin as a carpet to the man with the ball. "I like the old four-man front better," admits ad-mits Dave Dalby. "Then I used to slide through to get to this middle linebacker who weighed about 50 pounds less. Now, I feel as if I'm playing off a moving freight train. Centers Cen-ters won't last as long in the future, you can bet." Part of the reason centers are in short supply sup-ply is, they have to come 250 pounds or more, and have the center of gravity of an oak stump, and the passion for privacy of an eccentric ec-centric millionaire. Dave Dalby is built along the general lines of a coal barge himself. His calves are just thicker than Rhode Island, and he's about as easy to tip over as a warehouse. And he's deadly on those short passes. He's really what makes the Raiders go. No one ever has to jump or dive to catch a Dalby pass. Jim Plunkett or Marc Wilson can throw six interceptions a game and the Raiders can still win. Dalby can't throw any. The quarterback quar-terback might occasionally have to get off a throw with a noseguard screwing him into the ground. Dave Dalby has to get off every pass that way. So it's the short game that makes the Raider attack work finally. If Dave Dalby doesn't get them to the right receivers, Cliff Branch might as well stay right where he is. If Dalby's a half-second late or early in getting get-ting his pass off, the whole play breaks down. The Raiders have had several of the premiere long passers or bomb-throwers in football history George Blanda, Daryl Lamonica, Ken Stabler, Dan Pastorini, Jim Plunkett and now Marc Wilson. But their short passers may be the ones remembered in the long run. The Raiders have only had two. And Jim Otto is already in the Hall of Fame. Dave Dalby is going along the same route. The long throws are pretty. But it's the short, steady, nickel-and-dime ones that keep the championship rings coming in. When you talk of great arms on the Raiders today, you start with Dave Dalby. Everything else does. (c) 1983, Los Angeles Times Syndicate |