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In tribute to pal Kenny Stabler, David Humm says, ‘I got this’

A bunch of seasons ago, after he was drafted in the fifth round by the NFL‘s Oakland Raiders, it was decided a good time should be shown to rookie quarterback David Humm after the veterans had arrived at training camp.

It was the first time Humm remembers his pal Ken Stabler, who died July 8 of complications from colon cancer, saying "€œI got this."

By 1975, The Snake was entrenched as the Raiders‘ starting quarterback. But he had backed up Daryle Lamonica for several seasons. And now Humm, who starred at Bishop Gorman High and then at Nebraska under Bob Devaney and Tom Osborne, would be his backup.

Perhaps that is the reason Stabler and Humm got along so famously. Or maybe it was because they both were left-handed, and sported shaggy haircuts with audacious mustaches. Like desperados.

The Raiders of that era had a lot of desperados.

That night Stabler and the other desperados with mustaches went out on the town, Humm recalls going along for the ride. Alcohol may or may not have been involved. "The Tooz" may or may not have been there.

(The record, albeit fuzzy, will show that John Matuszak, the defensive end/party animal, wasn‘€™t there –€” he didn‘€™t arrive in Oakland until the 1976 season. But it probably seemed like he was there.)

Anyway, the next/that morning at two-a-days, Humm may or may not have had a headache, and he may or may not have overthrown a couple of balls over the middle to Dave Casper.

Blame it on The Snake.

"We were both kids, and he took me under his wing," Humm recalled during a telephone conversation. "But I drove my own car after that."

Humm would back up Stabler for five seasons. He wore number 11. Snake wore 12. Humm mostly wore a ballcap, and carried a clipboard. The Snake mostly said "€œI got this."

Humm said one time there was blood trickling from the ear hole of Stabler‘€™s helmet, and Humm thought maybe he should put down the clipboard and begin warming up.

John Madden, the bombastic Raiders coach, was freaking out — not because Humm was putting down the clipboard, because Humm usually did OK when he got in there –€” but because The Snake had this uncanny knack of pulling assorted games out of assorted fires, and now there was blood trickling from the ear hole of his helmet.

"I got this,"€ Stabler said, and then Madden stopped freaking out, and Humm put the headset back on.

Remember that sublime playoff game against the Dolphins, when the Raiders were out of timeouts, and Stabler was going down under duress from Vern Den Herder? Snake had the presence of mind to toss the ball toward the Miami end zone, hand-grenade style –€” and Clarence Davis caught it amid a "Sea of Hands."€

I got this.

Remember against the Chargers, on the last play, when Stabler was being sacked by Woodrow Lowe, but Snake had the presence of mind to fumble the ball forward, to where Pete Banaszak kicked and dribbled it forward some more, to where Casper fell on it in the end zone for the winning touchdown –€” and the "€œHoly Roller"€ was etched into NFL lore with a giant, stone-cold etcher?

I got this.

It seemed whenever the Raiders were up against it, and Madden was freaking out and his hair was flying all over the place, Stabler would do something spectacular and they‘d give it a name, or nine plays and 72 yards later Oakland would be in the end zone and the other side would be out of timeouts. And then John Madden would be smiling again, and his hair would be back in place.

I got this.

Dave Humm said there was nobody better in clutch situations than his pal The Snake.

"€œI thought he was so tough,"€ Humm said. "He was the toughest guy I ever met; he was the coolest guy I ever met. He was so special. He never got rattled. He was just ‘a star.‘ "

Humm said Ken Stabler kept Wild Turkey and Skoal and a pouch of Red Man in his locker, and sometimes when the backups were getting reps, The Snake would sneak off. And when he returned, Humm would say to Snake "€œyou didn‘t,"€ and Snake would say that he had, and then Snake would put one right on the numbers to Dave Casper.

So those stories you may have heard about Ken Stabler were true, Humm said. Most probably had to be cleaned up before they appeared in the newspaper.

But Humm said you should also know this about his pal Stabler: When you would introduce your people to him one year, like after a game or at a Raiders function, he would remember their names the next time.

I got this.

So last week, when Humm received a phone call that said Ken Stabler was dead, and was told a newspaper in Alabama had jumped the gun with its obituary, he figured it was just Snake saying "€œI got this,"€ one more time.

"€œI thought he was indestructible,"€ Humm said.

Stabler was 69 when he died. He had lived hard, and he had lived colorfully, and he had lived long, all things considered.

"€œBut not long enough,"€ David Humm said.

When the report of his death became official, it said family members and loved ones were with Ken Stabler, and that he was listening to "€œSweet Home Alabama" by Lynyrd Skynyrd and "€œWhen the Leaves Come Falling Down"€ by Van Morrison. These were his favorite songs.

You could almost see The Snake motioning to turn up the volume, that he had this.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow him on Twitter: @ronkantowski.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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