As a kid I took a liking to the Redskins because they seemed to always be on our local channel on Sunday afternoons in the early and mid 70's. I hated the Cowboys because at that time the 2 were bitter NFC East rivals and the Cowboys probably won more of their head to head match ups. Roger was the man though and he just had that little something extra that would win them games. I still remember the bomb he threw to Drew Pearson on a Thanksgiving Day game that was like a dagger to the heart in the last minute or so. The guy also seemed to have eyes in the back of his head when it came to avoiding the pass rush.
I've got 3 that make the all time list at coming back from all night drinking binges to playing on Sunday afternoon...
Sonny Jurgenson
Billy Kilmer
Great post, Crete! I lived in northern Virginia from 6th through 12th grade, and played little league full-pads tackle football until high school. The 'Skins were my team, and Jurgenson and Kilmer were the qbs. I knew the name, number, and position of every starter, and can still tell you a lot of them. I hated the Cowboys, but liked a lot of the individual players, including Staubach. That mf'er broke our hearts many a time. A little story about the time I met Sonny Jurgenson:
I was 11 or 12, in Cub Scouts or Webelos at the time, and we were selling magazine subscriptions to raise money for our summer camp. The fathers running our operation that day took us to some neighborhood, and dispersed us in different directions. I walked up to a house where a blonde-haired guy was sitting on his front step. As I walked up the driveway and got closer, I freaked - I was looking at Sonny Jurgenson, about 5 feet away! I couldn't even speak for what seemed like a full minute. We looked at each other, and I finally pointed at him, with my eyes bugging out of my head, and yelled, "Do you know who you are?!!!" He laughed, and said, "Yeah, son, I know who I am." I yelled, "Stay right there!", and took off running for the rest of the guys. I found them a couple of blocks away, and yelled, "Come on! I just met Sonny Jurgenson!" We galloped back to his house as a pack. When we got there, his wife was waiting for us, and said, "Boys, Mr. Jurgenson has a headache. He can't talk to you right now." We walked back to the van, and left. End of story.