Part 2 of 5
Running backs have always been my thing. I love the raw speed, power and elusiveness backs bring to the game. When a back can break a linebacker’s ankle with a juke borne from the depths of hell, how can you not be a sucker for these guys?
I was a 7-year-old Wendell Tyler (Pop was a Rams fan back then), an 8-year-old Tony Dorsett and a 12-year-old Walter Payton. If I played football in the early ‘90s, I would have tried juking like Barry Sanders or powered through drunken UNLVers twice my size in height and width (another story for another day) like another Charger running back - Natrone Means.
You can have your linebackers or quarterbacks or strong safeties or wide receivers, give me a running back with a Sears Catalog of moves and can pull a ton of human flesh draped around his legs.
Maybe that’s why I went ape shit for a Charger pint-sized running back in 1985 known as Little Train (Ha! and you thought I’d be talking about another Charger with the initials of L and T).
Lionel “Little Train” James was a 5-foot, 6-inch 170-pound running back with blazing quicks. His size and speed is what drew me to this fifth-round pick out Auburn, and when I watched him bust open a kick off return for a touchdown in his rookie season the year before I had a feeling this guy was bound for greatness.
But greatness is fleeting sometimes – just ask Falco. And with that here’s my No. 4 ranked Charger game memory:
Nov. 10, 1985: Chargers 40, L.A. Raiders 34
We made our way over to a friend’s doublewide for an afternoon barbecue. They ran a community park that specialized in horseback riding and sat on enough acres to give us boys plenty room to find things that would scare the bejeezus out of the girls. (What’s so scary about a blue-bellied lizard?) Dinner was BBQed goat, or so they say but I noticed a horse was missing from the stable – I’m not saying anything, but I’m just saying if you catch my drift.
Before munching down on charred Billy Goat Gruff, a handful of us sat in the living room watching an epic Charger-Raider battle. Unlike two years before when the Raiders flattened the Bolts like pony patty burgers, the Chargers – led by Dan Fouts who threw four touchdowns, two of which going to my two favorite Charger receivers (the best they’ve had since I’ve watched, which tells you how hard up the Bolt receiving corps has been for 23 years) Wes Chandler and Charlie Joiner – traded punches with the Raiders like a pair of school yard kids duking it out. If the Chargers scored, the Raiders answered and the pattern held true until time ran out and both squads were tied.
As for my man Little Train James, heading into over time he had hauled in 11 passes for 168 yards and would finish the day with 345 all-purpose yards. But dude saved the best for last. As we all huddled into the living room of the double wide, rocking back and forth, praying the football Gods would kiss San Diego for once when they played the Raiders, we watched as Fouts took the transfer and slowly spun (the great bearded QB had just one speed – turtle – so if I said he spun like Christy Yamaguchi doing a double-axle on meth would be a disservice to the greatest Charger quarterback) to meet Little Train for the handoff. The munchkin runner took the hand off and squirted right around the edge blocker who likely would have been Sam Claphan (I had to look the guy up, so don’t ask me his sacks allowed numbers for the year – if memory serves, Fouts spent more time on his back than a Phillipino hooker with the fleet in town if that helps). Once around that defensive line, James parted a pair of linebackers and was gone…
10…
5…
Touchdown!
Beer coated the coffee table and green shag rug (remember, mid-‘80s not so removed from the ‘70s, double-wide trailer, yeah, there was a little bit of beer around) as we sang Little Train’s praises after his 17-yard touchdown run. And since he was just 5 foot 6 and weighed a buck seventy, the Charger players put the little guy on their shoulders and whisked him out of Jack Murphy riding high.
Later, after much goat was consumed (not by me as the thought didn’t sit right, but ask me today if I’d eat and I wouldn’t hesitate) the kids got together for their own football game, and I did my best to recreate Little Train’s run into the record books.
You see, once all was said and done and the 1985 football season was put to bed, Lionel “Little Train” James would set two NFL records, one of which still stands. No running back has topped his 1,027 yards receiving, and his mark of 2,535 all-purpose yards for the year stood until Derrick Mason broke it in 2000 with 2,690 yards. And only a handful of backs caught more than the 86 balls he pulled in that year, including another LT (yeah, that one) and Larry Centers (a shout out to the Cardinal fan out there).
So when I hear that a running back is too small to compete in the League, I think of Little Train’s dash to glory and I smile, not because it meant a win for the Chargers, but because it was a win for us munchkins who’ve been told we are too short to compete.
I was a 7-year-old Wendell Tyler (Pop was a Rams fan back then), an 8-year-old Tony Dorsett and a 12-year-old Walter Payton. If I played football in the early ‘90s, I would have tried juking like Barry Sanders or powered through drunken UNLVers twice my size in height and width (another story for another day) like another Charger running back - Natrone Means.
You can have your linebackers or quarterbacks or strong safeties or wide receivers, give me a running back with a Sears Catalog of moves and can pull a ton of human flesh draped around his legs.
Maybe that’s why I went ape shit for a Charger pint-sized running back in 1985 known as Little Train (Ha! and you thought I’d be talking about another Charger with the initials of L and T).
Lionel “Little Train” James was a 5-foot, 6-inch 170-pound running back with blazing quicks. His size and speed is what drew me to this fifth-round pick out Auburn, and when I watched him bust open a kick off return for a touchdown in his rookie season the year before I had a feeling this guy was bound for greatness.
But greatness is fleeting sometimes – just ask Falco. And with that here’s my No. 4 ranked Charger game memory:
Nov. 10, 1985: Chargers 40, L.A. Raiders 34
We made our way over to a friend’s doublewide for an afternoon barbecue. They ran a community park that specialized in horseback riding and sat on enough acres to give us boys plenty room to find things that would scare the bejeezus out of the girls. (What’s so scary about a blue-bellied lizard?) Dinner was BBQed goat, or so they say but I noticed a horse was missing from the stable – I’m not saying anything, but I’m just saying if you catch my drift.Before munching down on charred Billy Goat Gruff, a handful of us sat in the living room watching an epic Charger-Raider battle. Unlike two years before when the Raiders flattened the Bolts like pony patty burgers, the Chargers – led by Dan Fouts who threw four touchdowns, two of which going to my two favorite Charger receivers (the best they’ve had since I’ve watched, which tells you how hard up the Bolt receiving corps has been for 23 years) Wes Chandler and Charlie Joiner – traded punches with the Raiders like a pair of school yard kids duking it out. If the Chargers scored, the Raiders answered and the pattern held true until time ran out and both squads were tied.
As for my man Little Train James, heading into over time he had hauled in 11 passes for 168 yards and would finish the day with 345 all-purpose yards. But dude saved the best for last. As we all huddled into the living room of the double wide, rocking back and forth, praying the football Gods would kiss San Diego for once when they played the Raiders, we watched as Fouts took the transfer and slowly spun (the great bearded QB had just one speed – turtle – so if I said he spun like Christy Yamaguchi doing a double-axle on meth would be a disservice to the greatest Charger quarterback) to meet Little Train for the handoff. The munchkin runner took the hand off and squirted right around the edge blocker who likely would have been Sam Claphan (I had to look the guy up, so don’t ask me his sacks allowed numbers for the year – if memory serves, Fouts spent more time on his back than a Phillipino hooker with the fleet in town if that helps). Once around that defensive line, James parted a pair of linebackers and was gone…
10…
5…
Touchdown!
Beer coated the coffee table and green shag rug (remember, mid-‘80s not so removed from the ‘70s, double-wide trailer, yeah, there was a little bit of beer around) as we sang Little Train’s praises after his 17-yard touchdown run. And since he was just 5 foot 6 and weighed a buck seventy, the Charger players put the little guy on their shoulders and whisked him out of Jack Murphy riding high.
Later, after much goat was consumed (not by me as the thought didn’t sit right, but ask me today if I’d eat and I wouldn’t hesitate) the kids got together for their own football game, and I did my best to recreate Little Train’s run into the record books.
You see, once all was said and done and the 1985 football season was put to bed, Lionel “Little Train” James would set two NFL records, one of which still stands. No running back has topped his 1,027 yards receiving, and his mark of 2,535 all-purpose yards for the year stood until Derrick Mason broke it in 2000 with 2,690 yards. And only a handful of backs caught more than the 86 balls he pulled in that year, including another LT (yeah, that one) and Larry Centers (a shout out to the Cardinal fan out there).
So when I hear that a running back is too small to compete in the League, I think of Little Train’s dash to glory and I smile, not because it meant a win for the Chargers, but because it was a win for us munchkins who’ve been told we are too short to compete.
4 comments:
That's awesome! I always love when people are a different size than the norm for their position. I like little, scrappy running backs. I also like the fact that the Giants backup QB is a cornfed behemoth who looks like he should be on the O-Line.
You're talkin' about Dan (maybe Don) Orvlosky I think. Dude was huge and U of Kentucky too. Gotta love him. If I didn't think it would give the play away, I'd have him hand every ball off and let Brandon Jacobs use him as the lead blocker.
Little Train James was awesome. The Chargers I loved at that time were getting old or retiring so I had to latch on to someone, and Litte Train fit the bill. I think he's the reason why I have a soft spot for Darren Sproles. He needs a nickname too, now that I think about it ... how 'bout Darren "Mighty Sprite" Sproles?
It's Jared Lorenzon in NY. Little Train was before my time, but I had Eric Metcalf, and so did you and that one Cardinal fan.
Thanks for the correction bro. I was too lazy to look it up.
Eric Metcalf was OK, but he was on a bad Charger teams for one season and then - poof - he was gone because Charger brass wanted a certain QB who I will not name, but I'll give you a hint: it rhymed with Brian Beef.
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