JEFF PEARLMAN ON CHARLES HALEY
Posted by Mike Florio on September 18, 2008, 9:56 a.m. EDT
[Editor’s note: Jeff Pearlman, author of bestseller The Bad Guys Won! and a 2006 biography of Barry Bonds titled Love Me, Hate Me, has recently released Boys Will Be Boys, an excellent book about the Dallas Cowboys of the 1990s. Jeff has provided to us his thoughts on one of the key components to the franchise’s three Super Bowl wins in four seasons.]
In the aftermath of a blissful 1991 season that saw the Dallas Cowboys — two years removed from a one-win debacle — go 11-5 and reach the playoffs, Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson decided their team was missing one vital piece: A monstrous pass-rushing defensive lineman.
Oh, the Cowboys possessed their share of quality players at the position: Jim Jeffcoat, Tony Casillas, Tony Tolbert. But the ‘91 Cowboys compiled a paltry 23 sacks, the lowest total in franchise history. In short, they needed help. “If you don’t put pressure on the opposing team’s quarterback,” Dave Wannstedt, the Dallas defensive coordinator, said at the time, “it’s awfully hard to win. Especially in the playoffs.”
Hence, on August 26, 1992, the Cowboys played a game of Risk, sending a pair of future draft picks to San Francisco for Charles Haley, the volatile (uh, to be polite) Taz Devil of a quarterback chaser who had compiled 63-1/2 sacks in his first six seasons in the league. The trade goes down as one of the great heists in NFL history.
Over the course of the ensuing four season, during which Dallas won three Super Bowls, Haley was the difference between a good defense and a great one. Opposing offenses suddenly had to keep someone in to help with pass protection. Quarterbacks who once nestled comfortably in the pocket now had jittery feet and forced releases. Haley didn’t merely chase quarterbacks — he put fear in their guts (and minds). “At his best, Charles was as good a pass rusher as anyone has ever seen,” says Darren Woodson, the Cowboys’ Pro Bowl safety. “We were an OK defense before him, but with him we were often unstoppable. His impact was that profound.”
And yet here we are, nine years after Haley’s retirement, and one of the two or three best pass rushers of the 1990s cannot receive so much as a sniff from the Pro Football Hall of Fame. In the course of his 14-year career, Haley compiled 100-½ sacks, appeared in four Pro Bowls, was named the Football Digest 1994 Defensive Player of the Year and won a record five Super Bowl rings. Always a force on the field, Haley played his best in the biggest moments. In Super Bowl XXIII, he recorded six tackles and two sacks as the 49ers defeated Cincinnati. In Super Bowl XXVII, Haley recorded six tackles to lead the Cowboys over the Bills. “He knew the game better than any of us,” says Antonio Goss, a former 49ers linebacker. “He could pick up little patterns and cues that nobody else would see. Charles might have been odd, but he was intelligent and incisive.”
Were he a choirboy along the lines of a Harry Carson or a quiet, Bible-reading wallflower, a la Gale Sayers, there is little doubt Haley would have been invited to Canton long ago. Instead, however, writers generally recall the volatile, agitated, six-beers-shy-of-a-keg Haley who once, in a fit of rage, urinated in a teammate’s automobile, and who routinely masturbated during team meetings at Valley Ranch. Most unfortunate (for Haley’s fate), they recall a man who treated the media as he would a fungal virus. “Oh, everybody was scared to go up to Charles when he first arrived,” recalls Mike Fisher, the former Cowboys beat writer for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. “But since I’d dealt with him before, I thought I’d give it a try. Well, he starts motherf—ing me left and right, and he gets right up in my face. Another time I was at a sports bar, and he spotted me and was truly going to try and kill me. Luckily, Erik Williams was there, and he saved me.”
Fisher’s story rings familiar — a version of it is told by dozens of other pen-bearing men and women trying to do their jobs. Yet it should not be enough to prevent Haley from getting his due. In the 1990s, there was Reggie White. There was Bruce Smith.
And there was Charles Haley.
[Editor’s note: Jeff Pearlman, author of bestseller The Bad Guys Won! and a 2006 biography of Barry Bonds titled Love Me, Hate Me, has recently released Boys Will Be Boys, an excellent book about the Dallas Cowboys of the 1990s. Jeff has provided to us his thoughts on one of the key components to the franchise’s three Super Bowl wins in four seasons.]
In the aftermath of a blissful 1991 season that saw the Dallas Cowboys — two years removed from a one-win debacle — go 11-5 and reach the playoffs, Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson decided their team was missing one vital piece: A monstrous pass-rushing defensive lineman.
Oh, the Cowboys possessed their share of quality players at the position: Jim Jeffcoat, Tony Casillas, Tony Tolbert. But the ‘91 Cowboys compiled a paltry 23 sacks, the lowest total in franchise history. In short, they needed help. “If you don’t put pressure on the opposing team’s quarterback,” Dave Wannstedt, the Dallas defensive coordinator, said at the time, “it’s awfully hard to win. Especially in the playoffs.”
Hence, on August 26, 1992, the Cowboys played a game of Risk, sending a pair of future draft picks to San Francisco for Charles Haley, the volatile (uh, to be polite) Taz Devil of a quarterback chaser who had compiled 63-1/2 sacks in his first six seasons in the league. The trade goes down as one of the great heists in NFL history.
Over the course of the ensuing four season, during which Dallas won three Super Bowls, Haley was the difference between a good defense and a great one. Opposing offenses suddenly had to keep someone in to help with pass protection. Quarterbacks who once nestled comfortably in the pocket now had jittery feet and forced releases. Haley didn’t merely chase quarterbacks — he put fear in their guts (and minds). “At his best, Charles was as good a pass rusher as anyone has ever seen,” says Darren Woodson, the Cowboys’ Pro Bowl safety. “We were an OK defense before him, but with him we were often unstoppable. His impact was that profound.”
And yet here we are, nine years after Haley’s retirement, and one of the two or three best pass rushers of the 1990s cannot receive so much as a sniff from the Pro Football Hall of Fame. In the course of his 14-year career, Haley compiled 100-½ sacks, appeared in four Pro Bowls, was named the Football Digest 1994 Defensive Player of the Year and won a record five Super Bowl rings. Always a force on the field, Haley played his best in the biggest moments. In Super Bowl XXIII, he recorded six tackles and two sacks as the 49ers defeated Cincinnati. In Super Bowl XXVII, Haley recorded six tackles to lead the Cowboys over the Bills. “He knew the game better than any of us,” says Antonio Goss, a former 49ers linebacker. “He could pick up little patterns and cues that nobody else would see. Charles might have been odd, but he was intelligent and incisive.”
Were he a choirboy along the lines of a Harry Carson or a quiet, Bible-reading wallflower, a la Gale Sayers, there is little doubt Haley would have been invited to Canton long ago. Instead, however, writers generally recall the volatile, agitated, six-beers-shy-of-a-keg Haley who once, in a fit of rage, urinated in a teammate’s automobile, and who routinely masturbated during team meetings at Valley Ranch. Most unfortunate (for Haley’s fate), they recall a man who treated the media as he would a fungal virus. “Oh, everybody was scared to go up to Charles when he first arrived,” recalls Mike Fisher, the former Cowboys beat writer for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. “But since I’d dealt with him before, I thought I’d give it a try. Well, he starts motherf—ing me left and right, and he gets right up in my face. Another time I was at a sports bar, and he spotted me and was truly going to try and kill me. Luckily, Erik Williams was there, and he saved me.”
Fisher’s story rings familiar — a version of it is told by dozens of other pen-bearing men and women trying to do their jobs. Yet it should not be enough to prevent Haley from getting his due. In the 1990s, there was Reggie White. There was Bruce Smith.
And there was Charles Haley.
posted by The Gryphon at 6:07 PM
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