[mack]

Irish and nose, I think you'll like this one:

Memories of Bill Walsh
Tom FitzGerald, Chronicle Staff Writer
Thursday, August 9, 2007

(08-09) 21:11 PDT -- Vignettes of Bill Walsh, gathered at Thursday's private memorial service at Stanford:

Mike Shumann, 49ers receiver (1978-79, '81), sports anchor at KGO-TV (Channel 7): "When we first went down to play the Rams, he was concerned that we were going to get influenced by Hollywood and break curfew and go out, so he got (assistant coaches) Bobb McKittrick, Sam Wyche and Denny Green to dress up as a hooker, a pimp and a drug dealer, just to show us what we had to stay away from. Can you imagine telling Bobb McKittrick, 'I need you to find a wig and a dress?' Those guys had to be thinking to themselves, 'What is he doing?' It was just his sense of humor. ...
"Of course, he played the hotel bellhop in Detroit (before Super Bow XVI). He tried to grab my bag, and I just fore-armed him away. I'm coming back down the elevator, and (guard) John Ayers says, 'Did you see Bill dressed as a bellhop?' I said, 'That was Bill? I'll never get in the game now.' "

Dick Vermeil, former Eagles/Rams/Chiefs head coach: "He was the least mechanical guy I've ever been around in my life. There wasn't a household chore that he could do comfortably. It was amazing because he was so gifted in so many ways. ...
"He flew in an F-16 fighter after he was out of coaching. Through the entire flight he had to go to the bathroom. He's in this jumpsuit. He gets out and they go through this whole parade and ceremony, and he told me later all he wanted to do was go to the men's room.''

Harris Barton, 49ers offensive tackle (1987-98): "A couple of years ago, I was having lunch with Bill, and I asked him what the best offensive drive he ever had was. He said, 'Harris, when I came back to Stanford, we were playing at Notre Dame. We received the kickoff, and they were heavy favorites. I stood and watched our 17-play, nine-minute drive, and told myself, "This is like art." And after we scored, Notre Dame ran the kickoff back for a touchdown.' "

Mike Holmgren, Seattle Seahawks coach, 49ers assistant (1986-91): "We were playing the Minnesota Vikings and Joe (Montana) was hurt and Steve (Young) was playing. Steve fumbled the snap from center early in the game. Bill was convinced that, behind his back, I had changed the snap count for all the 49ers. In the locker room, I said, 'I would not change the snap count,' He said, 'I know you did. Steve would not fumble the snap.' "

Dusty Baker, ex-Giants/Cubs manager: "The greatest thing he gave me was a manual about how he started with the 49ers and set up their organization. I've got to go find it. It was a big thing -- how to treat players, their wives, their mothers. The only person I ever let see it was (Giants GM) Brian Sabean. It's probably my most prized possession. I've got to pull it out and review some things for the next time. He has inspired me to want to manage again.''

Milt McColl, 49ers linebacker (1981-87): "On the bus to the Super Bowl, the second bus got stuck in the snow and the traffic, and they were just sitting there. Bill gets up and says, 'Don't worry, guys. I just got a call from the field. (Equipment manager) Chico Norton scored, and we're ahead, 7-0.' "

Dwight Clark, 49ers receiver (1979-87): "He told us, 'Men, we need to be as rested as we can to win this game. For some of you, that will mean a lot of sex and for the others, it will mean none at all. It's up to you to figure it out.' ...
"When Joe (Montana) and I were with him over the last few months, he was still accusing us of sneaking out of training camp. He even fined us one day, without any evidence. We paid him with Monopoly money, and he actually accepted it.''

Steve Young, 49ers quarterback (1987-99), Hall of Famer: "In 1988, he decided I was going to get in the game. Joe drives the team down to the 10 against the great New Orleans defense, and Bill tells me to go in and run that bootleg. It was probably the first time I stepped onto the field for the 49ers. I go in and call the play, but forget to put the tight end in motion. The guy I'm supposed to throw the ball to is on the wrong side, so Rickey Jackson comes in and sacks me for a 7-yard loss. Joe comes back on the field. Bill looked at me. 'You dumb SOB.' I spent months digging out of that hole.''

Jamie Williams, 49ers tight end (1989-93): "I was the only guy in the league with dreadlocks. I came from Houston and was worried he'd say, 'This guy is too crazy for us.' He said what great feet I had and what great hands I had. I said, 'So my hair doesn't bother you?' He said, 'Your hair isn't going to make plays for you.' That decompressed me and I ready to come on board."

Tom Holmoe, 49ers safety (1983-89), athletic director at BYU: "We were in minicamp at Santa Clara, and Bill asked for volunteers to go with him to a charity breakfast. About 15 or 20 of the players went. He spoke and said, 'I believe in this charity, and I would like everybody here to contribute. I'll start with a $10,000 contribution, and I know my players here -- please stand up -- will all give $1,000. We looked at each other, and said, 'What? Is he paying for us?' We got back to camp, and decided, well, he's our guy. There was probably $30,000 or
$40,000 raised, and he did it on the spot.''

Ted Leland, former Stanford athletic director: "Bill had made some comments in the papers about the Washington players, and this was when they were a very good team. We were getting angry e-mail and phone calls (from Husky fans). When Bill got off the plane in Seattle, all the press was waiting. He put on one of those fake noses and glasses. It diffused the whole thing. Even they had to laugh."

Mike White, ex-Raiders head coach, 49ers assistant (1978-79): "My wife and I were with him two or three days before he passed away. We told him about the wedding of one of our sons Sept. 14. And he said, 'Oh, I'll be back for that.' "

Marty Connelly, long-time friend: "He never saw a golf shot he didn't like. No matter where the ball was --in the deep brush, behind a tree -- you'd look around and the ball would be in the fairway. He had a better toe than Lou Groza. ...
"In college, we were called the Dateless Wonders. We'd go out to a beer joint, and even then Bill would map out a plan to go to a table full of girls. By the time we executed, they were gone.''

Jerry Rice, 49ers receiver (1985-2000), Hall of Famer: "He brought me up to his office after a game when I had three touchdowns, over 200 yards, about 12 catches. I thought he was going to pat me on the back. He told me he needed more from me. He brought up Ronnie Lott, Joe Montana, Keena Turner and said the same thing.''

Bill Ring, 49ers running back (1981-86): "One season it rained practically every day. At practice, guys had caps, gloves, anything they could to stay warm. Bill gathered us in the practice facility at Redwood City and really gave it to us. 'It's a little rain, for heaven's sake. Take all that crap off.' So we're out on the field, and five or 10 minutes go by. Here comes Bill dressed like a fisherman, with a big hat and a big yellow slicker, with boots and yellow pants."

Geri Walsh, widow of Bill Walsh: "I was registering for courses at San Jose State, and he was ogling me. He was ogling all the girls. He was an upper classman, and I was a freshman. He asked me my phone number, but I didn't have a phone yet. So he asked me to come to a boxing match with him. He was fighting in the Gold Gloves. So I went to the arena to see him box. He won. I remember how wonderful he looked.''

This is a poem written by Bill Walsh's sister, Maureen Walsh Tutton, and read at Thursday's private memorial service by Rev. Patrick LaBelle, pastor of the Catholic Community at Stanford. Tutton has battled lung cancer for eight years.


TO MY BROTHER BILL

Then, you were simply Billy,
Who took my hand crossing the street,
Held my doll while I combed her hair,
Who kept a spider collection in jars in the garage
And a snake in a box under your bed.
My big brother.
Billy, who tussled with the boys down the street,
Throwing punches while I kicked at their legs.
Used me like a duck in a shooting gallery
While you threw spiral passes as I crisscrossed the yard.
Picked me up when I fell off my Schwinn
And forgave me when I dropped a large rock on your pet lizard
Or left open the door to your homing pigeon coop.
My big brother.
Became Bill when you moved away to college.
Told your handsome football friends
I was thirteen when I was trying so hard to look seventeen.
Then you married beautiful Geri,
Came home in an Army uniform and then with a son.
My older brother Bill.
Coach Bill, looking so handsome on television
Filling me with pride as I watched you from afar
While you reached for the stars, something driving you to succeed.
Sharing you with so many,
Missing you,
Being with you for the big events, sharing your glory.
That's MY brother!
Bill, the famous coach whose pace had slowed
Who provided for the care of mom and dad until they passed.
The safety net who could always fix things
And give wise counsel and encouragement,
Sharing more time with family and friends.
Still the rock, my brother.
Then the path grew steep and slippery
And you let me be at your side as you climbed
Holding your hand as you fought the good fight
Even until the end when you told me
I was still beautiful with my bald head and hollow eyes,
Telling me to be strong but to let you go,
Promising we would see each other again,
Saying farewell.
Simply Bill, my beloved brother.
Sis