Farewell to the Lion King
Joe Schmidt, who grew up in a hard scrabble steel town, fit right in with the beer-and-shot denizens of the Motor City--on and off the field.
Joe Schmidt had to become a man before he had a chance to stop being a boy.
There were four males in the Schmidt family older than Joe: his father and his three brothers. They lived in Brentwood, a borough of Pittsburgh.
But by February 1945, just past Joe’s 13th birthday, all that was left was Joe and one remaining brother.
Two of his three brothers died by 1944: one after falling from a tree, and the other while serving in the U.S. military.
In February ‘45, Joe’s dad passed away.
Heavy stuff.
But not heavy enough to break Joe, whose upbringing in the Steel City hardened him. He had no choice, but he made it through nonetheless.
It was another case of a boy turning to sports for comfort.
In Joe’s case, it was football. Boy, was it ever.
Joe Schmidt is gone. He died on Wednesday at age 92.
Joe Schmidt, the Lionest of all the Lions.
Joe Schmidt, the bedrock of his team’s defense in the 1950s and half of the 1960s.
Joe Schmidt, who the fans carried off the field after the 1957 NFL Championship game at Briggs Stadium. The Lions won, 59-14, but the fans didn’t carry anyone from the offense off the field. They knew that it was the gritty defense, led by middle linebacker Schmidt, that was the linchpin of that ‘57 team—and the other great Lions teams of the decade, including the ‘53 championship squad on which Schmidt was a rookie.
Joe Schmidt, elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame on the first ballot in 1973.
Joe Schmidt, who until Jim Caldwell (2014-17) was the last Lions head coach to leave the team with a winning overall record.
In Schmidt’s heyday, there were three sports icons in Detroit: Joe, Al Kaline and Gordie Howe. Each embodied their respective teams. Each was the first one you thought of when the topic of the Lions, Tigers and Red Wings came up.
Joe was the last surviving member of that trio.
Stung by the tragedy that was his childhood as those in his family dropped one by one, Joe Schmidt took his rage out on the football field—and on the opposition.
It started at Brentwood High School, then moved to the University of Pittsburgh. Schmidt graduated to captain of the 1952 Pitt team that finished 6-3 and beat Ohio State, Notre Dame and Army.
It was Schmidt’s pre-game speech that his teammates credited greatly for their monumental upset of the Fighting Irish.
To say that Schmidt left it out on the field that day would be a huge understatement.
In the ND game, Schmidt suffered a concussion and hemorrhage that put him in the hospital for 10 days.
The Lions were defending champs in 1953 when they drafted the All-American Schmidt—in the seventh round.
SEVENTH!
So unheralded was Schmidt as a rookie draft pick that the Lions held Gene Gedman Day.
Gedman, a running back, was the team’s 2nd round pick in the 1953 NFL Draft and the Lions were beside themselves with excitement. Their top pick, Harley Sewell, was a guard. So the Lions pumped up Gedman, introducing him to the fans with a special day and a parade.
No joke.
Gene Gedman played four seasons for the Lions, rushing for no more than 479 yards in any of them.
Schmidt, meanwhile, quickly became the face of the Lions defense.
It’s been said that Joe Schmidt “invented” the linebacker position.
That’s probably going a little too far, but what IS true is that HC Buddy Parker changed his defense’s formation to accommodate what Schmidt brought to the gridiron.
Instead of playing a five-man front with a middle guard, Parker scrapped the MG position and placed Schmidt in the middle, just behind the line, to take advantage of his athleticism and mad tackling and pursuit skills.
The honors were annual and copious for Schmidt as his career moved along. A perennial Pro Bowler for 10 years (1954-63). An 8-time first team All-Pro. A two-time league champion.
Schmidt was, later in his life, named to the NFLs All-1950s Team and is a member of the league’s 100th Anniversary all-time team.
Joe Schmidt didn’t have the boisterous nastiness that made Dick Butkus so famous, but he was no less fearsome. He was, often, unblockable. His ability to run down ball carriers laterally, combined with his keen pass defending sense, were unparalleled in his prime.
Bobby Layne is perhaps more connected to those Lions teams of the 1950s in the sport’s public consciousness because of the position he played, but it wasn’t Layne who struck fear in opposing coaches trying to game plan for the Lions every Sunday.
It was Joe Schmidt.
And that was despite the Lions having the original Fearsome Foursome of Alex Karras, Roger Brown, Darris McCord and Sam Williams up front.
After retiring as a player after the 1965 season, Schmidt was eager to test his coaching chops. Made sense, since he was considered a “coach on the field” for much of his playing career.
He served as Harry Gilmer’s LB coach for one year in ‘66, then got promoted to the head coaching job after the Lions fired the maligned Gilmer.
Speaking of firing…
It was Schmidt who coined the phrase “getting the ziggy” when a coach got fired. It’s a distinct Detroit term, as connected to the Motor City as Vernors ginger ale.
Schmidt took over a bad situation in 1967 but after a couple of rebuilding seasons, he molded young draft picks such as QB Greg Landry, WRs Earl McCullouch and Larry Walton, TE Charlie Sanders, RB Mel Farr and CB Lem Barney into the core of the 1970 team that was arguably the best Lions club since the ‘57 champions.
That team lost a bitter 5-0 playoff game to the Cowboys.
As coach, Schmidt was subjected to weekly, “What happened?” sessions in front of owner Bill Ford and GM Russ Thomas. Those weekly second-guessing pow-wows, plus the abuse of the jaded Lions fan base and what he perceived to be a bullying media, drove Schmidt to quit in January 1973.
If Schmidt had listened to Alex Karras, he would have quit as HC several years earlier.
The two former teammates were having beers in a Detroit watering hole early in Joe’s coaching tenure. Schmidt went on a rant, complaining about Ford, Thomas and the politics that came with them.
Karras said, “Well, if it’s that bad, Joe, why don’t you just quit?”
Schmidt leaned in to Alex, sneering, and said, “That’s the dumbest f****** thing you’ve ever said to me.”
That, according to Karras in his book, Even Big Guys Cry.
"I really don't enjoy coaching anymore. It got to be a burden more than a fun-loving game,” Schmidt told the assembled press in announcing his decision to walk away in 1973. “I promised my family and myself when I started coaching that I would get out when it stopped being fun. Unfortunately, it's reached that point."
He never went back into coaching.
Schmidt became a successful businessman in Metro Detroit. He formed Joe Schmidt Enterprises, a manufacturer's representative working with the automobile industry in Detroit.
In 1993, Schmidt showed the Lions some undeserved grace.
They signed pass rushing LB Pat Swilling, who wore #56 in New Orleans. And when Swilling requested 56 with the Lions, the team didn’t shut him down. For that was Joe Schmidt’s number.
Instead, they told Swilling “yes,” and only in passing did they ask Joe for his permission.
Put on the spot, Schmidt took the high road and allowed Swilling to wear the number. But folks close to him said that he was disappointed that the Lions did him like that.
None other than fellow Hall of Famer, QB Norm Van Brocklin, said of Schmidt when both were players, “If I were to start a team from scratch and pick out just one player, I'd select Joe Schmidt to form the core of my team."
Joe Schmidt was a man by age 13, an NFL All-Pro by age 22 and a head coach by age 35.
After being in a hurry with those endeavors, he finally got a chance to slow down and lived a mostly healthy life until recently.
He was, truly, the Lion King.
An excellent and very heartwarming tribute, thank you!