Denver Catholic

14 MAY 2-8, 2015 | DENVER CATHOLIC Perspectives H e scored 40 times in an eight- year NFL career, best known, now, for the touchdown he didn't score, as the sun set over Yankee Stadium on Dec. 28, 1958. His wife of 59 years, Joan, said that Jim Mutscheller, who died on April 10, wanted to be known as a man "who had led a good life," for he was "quiet, humble, and so conservative that he'd eat crabs with a suit and tie on." And therein lies a tale—and a yard- stick by which to measure pro sports then and now. Born in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania (as was Joe Namath, about as di• er- ent a character as you can imagine), Mutscheller's father was known locally as the "best bricklayer in Beaver County." The son graduated from Notre Dame, having played o• ensive and defensive end on the 1949 national champion- ship team in the days of single platoon football. He then spent a couple of years in the Marine Corps—including a stint in Korea that convinced Mutscheller, whose look "would bore a hole in a vault" (as one sportswriter put it), that getting knocked around on the football fi eld wasn't so bad a deal after all. He was a tight end in the days when you could be 6 feet tall, weigh 190, and play that position, what with no 350-pound behemoths on the other side of the line. But he was also reasonably fl eet afoot, he could block, he had those great hands, and there was … that look. All of which helped bring him and the Baltimore Colts to the Bronx on a bleak Decem- ber afternoon in 1958, for what's now known as The Greatest Game Ever Played. It wasn't, in fact, all that great a game. But it had a lot of drama; it ended with the fi rst (and thus far only) sudden-death overtime win in the history of NFL cham- pionships; and Jim Mutscheller was in the pivot of the action. With strong men ready to collapse from exhaustion after four and a half quarters of play, the Colts, having driven to the Giants' six-yard line, were poised for the game-winning touchdown. The immortal John Unitas brought the Colts out of the huddle, having called a running play for "The Horse," Alan Ameche (who looked more like a tenor in a Verdi opera than a Heisman Trophy-winning full- back). Unitas, however, noticed, a chink in the Giants' pass defense and checked o• at the line of scrimmage, calling for Mutscheller to run an out pattern to the near corner of the end zone. It was intended to be a touchdown pass, and would have been except that Unitas deliberately led Mutscheller a bit more to the outside than usual; Number 84 couldn't get traction on the icy surface, slipping out of bounds at the one-yard line. On the next play, Ameche drove in for the winning score, with Mutscheller throwing a key block that took out Giants' linebacker Cli• Livingston. Years after the game that changed the way America spends fall Sunday afternoons, Unitas would kid Mutscheller, saying, "Geez, Jim, I tried to make you the hero." To which Mutscheller replied, "If I'd scored that touchdown, Ameche wouldn't have been able to sell all those hamburg- ers." (Extra credit for anyone who can remember the name of the double-stack burger at "Ameche's.") They're almost all gone, now, these Catholic sports heroes of my extreme youth: Ameche fi rst, in 1988; Unitas in 2002; Artie Donovan in 2013; now Jim Mutscheller, whom I used to see at daily Mass, head bowed after receiving the Mystery. Only Gino Marchetti is left; and since it was "something inside Gino" that, according to Lenny Moore, held the Colts together, that is right and just. But I'll think of them all during the parade of oversized young studs, oozing self-esteem and entitlement, who'll walk across the stage to get their handshake/ hug from Commissioner Roger Goodell on NFL draft day. And I'll remember that, once upon a time, Catholic men from working class families could be sports idols—and role models as well. Remembering Number 84 George Weigel is a distinguished senior fellow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington, D.C. The Catholic Di£ erence GEORGE WEIGEL I was driving on the freeway last week and suddenly realized that my lane was going to end due to some con- struction. Like the cars in front of and behind me, I put on my turn signal and looked for an opportunity to merge into the next lane. More or less, all of the cars in my lane were shifting over. That's when it happened—the young woman driving the car next to me wouldn't let me in. It wasn't like she didn't see me either. She was driving in an aggressive manner so as not to let me merge. Finally, I had to slow down considerably and merge in behind her, which is when I was able to read her bumper sticker, "Make Love, Not War." At which point I said, "Where do you think peace comes from?" Love and peace are important topics and they are cheapened when relegated to bumper stickers. If we want to pro- mote peace in the world, the process must start with our choices. Open war between nations does not happen all of a sudden. Confl ict begins in small ways, and with the lack of authentic sacrifi cial love, escalates into violence, which begets vengeance and revenge and everything else that makes for the perpetuation of war. I'm not saying that World War III will be a direct consequence of not letting someone merge on the freeway, but there is defi nitely a correlation. The aggressive driving that I experienced is very common, and admittedly, I too have been guilty of similar behavior, many of us have. What do we gain? If one car gets to merge, what have we lost? These are important questions to ask ourselves. As is often the case, we get worked up over something of very little consequence and miss out on an opportunity to show love and respect to our neighbor. We must remember that in the freeways of our lives, we are often the ones who depend on the courtesy of others to let us merge, thus, we should always be looking for an opportunity to pay it forward. If we truly want peace, we must embody it in the way we live. Our words and actions must promote peace. This not only helps form us into better Chris- tians, it also sets a good example for others. Author Sheldon Vanauken, a friend of C.S. Lewis, summarized it well when he wrote: "The best argument for Chris- tianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness. But the strongest argument against Christi- anity is also Christians—when they are somber and joyless, when they are self-righteous and smug in complacent consecration, when they are narrow and repressive, then Christianity dies a thousand deaths." I would also add, "when they don't let someone merge in tra« c." Where do you think peace comes from? Father Randy Dollins serves as vicar general and moderator of the curia for the Archdiocese of Denver. Vicar General's Column FATHER RANDY DOLLINS Once upon a time, Catholic men from working class families could be sports idols— and role models as well." GEORGE WEIGEL " On the next play, Ameche drove in for the winning score, hug from Commissioner Roger Goodell on NFL draft day. And I'll remember that, once upon a time, Catholic men from working class families could be sports idols—and role models as well. Jim Mutscheller PHOTO COURTESY OF BALTIMORE SUN

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