{"product_id":"instant-replay-isbn-9780307743381","title":"Instant Replay","description":"A sports classic, Jerry Kramer and Dick Schaap's \u003ci\u003eInstant Replay\u003c\/i\u003e takes readers inside the 1967 season of the Green Bay Packers, following that storied team from training camp to their dramatic victory in Super Bowl II. \u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eCandid and often amusing, Jerry Kramer describes from a player’s perspective a bygone era of sports, filled with blood, grit, and tears. No game better exemplifies this period than the classic “Ice Bowl” conference championship game between the Packers and the Dallas Cowboys, which Kramer, who made the crucial block in the climactic play, describes in thrilling detail. We also get a rare and insightful view of the Packers’ legendary leader, coach Vince Lombardi. \u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eAs vivid and engaging as it was when it was first published, \u003ci\u003eInstant Replay \u003c\/i\u003eis an irreplaceable reminder of the glory days of pro football.“The best behind-the-scenes glimpse of pro football ever produced.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An unprecedented look into the gritty world of professional football. . . . Still the gold standard of sports biographies.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSports Illustrated\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A classic for its insights into the game and its people, [written] with wit and without scandal or obscenity. . . . A landmark work.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“Groundbreaking. . . . Candid. . . . An uncommonly frank account.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eChicago Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“The first great professional sports diary.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Boston Globe\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The gold standard for football memoirs. . . . This modern sports classic is a smart, funny and literate diary of the Packers’ successful quest to become the first team to win back-to-back Super Bowl victories.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Plain Dealer\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“This seminal, as-told-to diary . . . changed the way sports readers expected their heroes to sound. No more of this Grantland Rice purple prose. Schaap gave us the tough jock sounding like a real—and witty and introspective and profane—human being.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eChicago Sun-Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“A must read. . . . An insightful look at the sometimes-maddening methods of Lombardi and the love-hate relationship the players had with the legendary coach.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eGreen Bay Press-Gazette\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“An honest, hilarious and insightful diary, with Lombardi alternately serving as the hero and the villain, the lovable leader and the soul-crushing ogre.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSan Jose Mercury News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“This was the book that started it all—for athletes telling their stories, for sportswriters going in depth, for great athletic tales being bound between the covers. Dick Schaap’s classic is timeless. Required reading for anyone who loves sports or sportswriting.”\u003cbr\u003e—Mitch Albom\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“One of the great sports books of all time.” —Billy Crystal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Kramer detailed the 1967 championship season in an understated, respectful tone, but showed a keen eye for details the fan would never glimpse.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Baltimore Sun\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“One of the rarest of things—a sports book written in English by an adult.”\u003cbr\u003e—Jimmy Breslin\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“Daring stuff for its time, revealing how athletes really act, talk and think back when such candor was taboo.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eCharlotte Observer\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“A no-holds-barred diary. . . . One really gets a sense of the physical, mental and emotional agonies players can go through in a season.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eOrlando Sentinel\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“[Kramer is] observant, honest, sensitive and a bone-crusher at right guard.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Oregonian\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“The ultimate football diary. . . . Detailed and dramatic. . . . Kramer’s description of his decisive block against Jethro Pugh at the goal line in the waning seconds [of the Ice Bowl] . . . is as fresh and raw as the minus-15-degree weather at kickoff.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003eTampa Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“In my life as a writer and reader, there are only a few books that I’ve read over and over again for the sheer pleasure of the experience. Jerry Kramer’s \u003ci\u003eInstant Replay\u003c\/i\u003e is the only sports book among them. I loved it when I was a teenage, and I love it still today.”\u003cbr\u003e—David Maraniss, author of \u003ci\u003eWhen Pride Still Mattered\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eJerry Kramer\u003c\/b\u003e was a right guard for the Green Bay Packers from 1958 to 1968. During his time with the team, the Packers won five National Championships and Super Bowls I and II. He was inducted into the Green Bay Packer Hall of Fame in 1977. He lives in Boise, Idaho. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eDick Schaap\u003c\/b\u003e (1934–2002), a sportswriter, broadcaster, and author or coauthor of thirty-three books, reported for \u003ci\u003eNBC Nightly News\u003c\/i\u003e, the \u003ci\u003eToday \u003c\/i\u003eshow, \u003ci\u003eABC World News Tonight\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003e20\/20\u003c\/i\u003e, and ESPN and was the recipient of five Emmy Awards.1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003ePRELIMINARY  SKIRMISHES\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFEBRUARY 10\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  drove downtown to the Packer offices today to pick up my mail, mostly  fan  mail about our victory in the first Super Bowl game, and as I came  out of  the building Coach Lombardi came in. I waved to him  cheerfully--I have  nothing against him during the off-season--and I  said, \"Hi, Coach.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVince Lombardi is a short, stout man, a stump.  He looked up at me and he  started to speak and his jaws moved, but no  words came out. He hung his  head. My first thought--from force of  habit, I guess--was I've done  something wrong, I'm in trouble, he's mad  at me. I just stood there and  Lombardi started to speak again and  again he opened his mouth and still he  didn't say anything. I could see  he was upset, really shaken.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What is it, Coach?\" I said. \"What's the matter?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFinally,  he managed to say, \"I had to put Paul--\" He was almost stuttering.  \"I  had to put Paul on that list,\" he said, \"and they took him.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  didn't know what to say. I couldn't say anything. Vince had put Paul   Hornung on the list of Packers eligible to be selected by the Saints,  the  new expansion team in New Orleans, and the Saints had taken him.  Paul  Hornung had been my teammate ever since I came to Green Bay in  1958, and he  had been Vince's prize pupil ever since Vince came to  Green Bay in 1959, and  it may sound funny but I loved Paul and Vince  loved Paul and everybody on  the Packers loved Paul. From the stands, or  on television, Paul may have  looked cocky, with his goat shoulders and  his blond hair and his strut, but  to the people who knew him he was a  beautiful guy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI stood there, not saying anything, and Lombardi  looked at me again and  lowered his head and started to walk away. He  took about four steps and then  he turned around and said, \"This is a  helluva business sometimes, isn't it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen he put his head down again and walked into his office.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  got to thinking about it later, and the man is a very emotional man. He  is  spurred to anger or to tears almost equally easily. He gets  misty-eyed and  he actually cries at times, and no one thinks less of  him for crying. He's such a man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJUNE 15\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePractice  starts a month from today, and I'm dreading it. I don't want to  work  that hard again. I don't want to take all that punishment again. I   really don't know why I'm going to do it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\\I must get some  enjoyment out of the game, though I can't say what it is. It  isn't the  body contact. Body contact may be fun for the defensive players, the  ones who get to make the tackles, but body contact gives me only cuts   and contusions, bruises and abrasions. I suppose I enjoy doing something  well. I enjoy springing a back loose, making a good trap block, a good  solid  trap block, cutting down my man the way I'm supposed to. But I'm  not quite  as boyish about the whole thing as I used to be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA  couple of months ago, I was thinking seriously about retiring. Jimmy   Taylor, who used to be my roommate on the Packers, and a couple of other   fellows and I have a commercial diving business down in Louisiana.  Jimmy,  who comes from Baton Rouge and played for Louisiana State  University, is a  great asset to the business; he's such a hero in  Louisiana I wouldn't be  surprised if he ended up as governor. We've  been building up the company for  three years now, and this year, with  Jimmy playing for the Saints--he played  out his option here and jumped  to New Orleans--we should really do well.  He'll be able to entertain  potential customers, wine them and dine them and  take them to the  Saints' games.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI thought of retiring so that I could devote more  time to the company. And I  would have retired, I believe, or at least  tried to shift to the New Orleans  team, if a deal hadn't come through  with a man named Blaine Williams, who's  in the advertising business in  Green Bay. We're getting portraits made of  all the players in the  National Football League, and we're selling them to  Kraft Foods to  distribute on a nationwide basis. It can be a very lucrative  thing for  me, so I decided I'd better stay here in Green Bay and keep an eye  on  it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCoach Lombardi heard that I was thinking about retiring--he  hears  everything--and he suspected I was going to use this as a wedge  to demand  more money. That wasn't what I had in mind, not this time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStill, I haven't heard a word from Lombardi about a contract for this year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJULY 5\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePat  Peppler, the personnel director of the Packers, phoned today and asked   me if I wanted to discuss my contract. I told him I wanted $27,500, up  from  $23,000 last year, and I said it isn't as much as I deserve, of  course, but  I'll be happy with it and I won't cause any problems, any  struggle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI mean it. I know I'm worth more than $27,500, but I  don't want a contract  fight over a few thousand dollars. I can remember  what happened in 1963.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat was the year after I kicked three  field goals in the world championship  game against the New York Giants,  and we won the game by three field goals,  16-7. During the 1962  season, I kicked extra points and field goals, and I  was named All-Pro  offensive guard, and, in general, I had a pretty good  year. I came in  wanting a sizable raise, and Coach Lombardi started out with  the  standard 10 percent he offers when he wants to give a guy a raise. I   said I wanted nearly 50 percent, from $13,000 up to $19,000, and he hit  the  ceiling and said absolutely not. He said he'd give me $14,500 or  maybe  $15,000.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the back of my mind, I was thinking about  playing out my option--the  one-year professional football contract  allows a man to play out a second  year at the same salary and then  become a free agent, the way Jimmy Taylor  did last year--and jumping to  Denver in the rival American Football League.  Denver wanted me badly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCoach  Lombardi, with his spy system, found out what I was thinking about. He   has a real thing about loyalty, and he got doubly upset. He called me  into  his office and offered me $15,000 and said, \"Look, I'm going to  give you  fifteen, but you have to take it today. Tomorrow, it'll be  down to  fourteen.\" I didn't take it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI started training camp  without a contract, and Vince made practice almost  unbearable. Every  block I threw, every move I made, was either slow or wrong  or  inadequate. \"Move, Kramer, move,\" he'd scream, \"you think you're worth  so  damn much.\" And the contract negotiations weren't kept at any  executive  level. They were held at lunch and dinner, at bedtime and  during team  meetings, and the rest of the coaches joined in, all of  them on my back,  sniping at me, taking potshots at me. I got bitter, I  got jumpy, and then a  lot of the other guys, my teammates, began to  tease me, to ride me, and the  teasing didn't sound like teasing to me  because I was getting so much hell  from all angles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then I  almost exploded. We have a ritual the day before a game. The  offensive  linemen get together with the defensive linemen and throw passes  to  each other. We take turns playing quarterback, and you get to keep   throwing passes until one of them is incomplete. It's a silly little  game,  but it loosens us up and it's fun. Every lineman's dream, of  course, is to  be a quarterback. So, in 1963, the day before an  exhibition, we were playing  this game, and I stepped up for my turn to  play quarterback and Bill Austin,  who was our line coach, yelled, \"No,  get out of there, Kramer, you can't be  a quarterback.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI said, \"Why not?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd he said, \"Just 'cause I said so.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere  was no reason, except for the contract, and this burned me up. Later,   Austin approached me in the lobby of the hotel we were staying in, and  he  said, \"Jerry, I want to talk to you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI said, \"Look, you  sonuvabitch, I don't want to talk to you at all. I don't  have a word to  say to you. I don't want to have anything to do with you.  Stay away  from me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was out of my head a little bit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBill said, \"Now, now, don't be like that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I mean it, Bill,\" I said. \"Stay away from me.\" I stopped just short of  punching Austin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat  night, Coach Lombardi put me on the kickoff team, the suicide team,   which is usually reserved, during exhibition games, for rookies. \"The   kickoff team is football's greatest test of courage,\" Lombardi says.  \"It's  the way we find out who likes to hit.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI knew how  dangerous the kickoff team could be. In 1961, when I was kicking  off  for the Packers, I had to be on the kickoff team, of course. I kicked   off once against the Minnesota Vikings, the opening play of the game,  and  when I ran down the field, I ran straight at the wedge in front of  the  ballcarrier. The wedge is made up of four men, always four big and  mobile  men, more than 1,000 pounds' worth. One of the guys from the  Minnesota wedge  hit me in the chest and another scissored my legs and  buckled me over  backwards and then the ballcarrier stumbled onto me and  pounded me into the  ground and a couple of other guys ran over me and  stomped me in deeper, and  the result was a broken ankle. I missed eight  games in 1961.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then in 1963, for that exhibition, I found  myself on the kickoff team again. I took out all my fury on the field. I  was the first man down the  field on every kickoff, I hit everyone who  got in my way, and after the game  Lombardi came up to me and said that  he wasn't the vindictive type, that we  could get together and settle  the contract. I signed the next day for $17,500.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ***\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePat Peppler told me today he would check with Coach Lombardi about my demand for $27,500.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJULY 7\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePat Peppler called back. \"You can have $26,500,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If  I wanted $26,500,\" I told him, \"I would have asked for $26,500. If I'd   said $44,500, I suppose Lombardi would have come back with $43,500. I  want  $27,500 without any fuss, without any argument.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJULY 10\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"OK, it's $27,500,\" Pat Peppler said today. \"Stop by and sign.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI'm  going to forget that I ever thought about retiring. I'm going to forget   that I've got a lot of money coming in. I'm going to forget that I  don't  really need football anymore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI've decided to play. Let's get on with it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e2\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBASIC   TRAINING\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJULY 14\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePractice  began officially yesterday for everyone except the veteran  offensive  and defensive linemen. We don't have to report until 6 p.m.  tomorrow,  Saturday, but I couldn't wait. I had to go over to the stadium  this  morning. It's not that I'm anxious to start the punishment, but I   figured one workout today and one tomorrow would help me ease into  training.  Monday, we start two-a-days, which are pure hell, one workout  in the morning  and one in the afternoon, and if I don't get a little  exercise, the  two-a-days'll kill me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNaturally, I saw Vince this morning. He asked me how I was, and, before I  could tell him, he said, \"You look a little heavy.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI  guess I am. I was up around 265 a few weeks ago, and I'm 259 now, and  I'd  like to play somewhere between 245 and 250. I'm not too worried  about my  weight. I know I've got the best diet doctor in the world. His  prize patient  right now is a rookie tackle named Leon Crenshaw, from  Tuskegee Institute,  who reported to training camp a week ago weighing  315 pounds. Dr. Lombardi  has reduced him to 302.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI started off  the day by trotting three laps around the goal posts, a total  of almost  half a mile, not because I love running, but because Coach  Lombardi  insists upon this daily ritual. As long as he's been here, we've  had  only one fellow who didn't run his three laps, a big rookie named Royce   Whittenton. When Green Bay drafted Whittenton during the winter of his   senior year in college, he weighed about 240. When the coaches  contacted him  in the spring, he weighed 270. They told him they didn't  want him to come to  camp any heavier than 250, and he reported in the  summer at 315 pounds. He  made one lap and half of another around the  goal posts and then he couldn't  go any farther. Lombardi cut him from  the squad before he even took  calisthenics.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe had one of our  little \"nutcracker\" drills today, a brand of torture--one  on one,  offensive man against defensive man--which is, I imagine, something   like being in the pit. The defensive man positions himself between two  huge  bags filled with foam rubber, which form a chute; the offensive  man, leading  a ballcarrier, tries to drive the defensive man out of the  chute, banging  into him, head-to-head, really rattling each other,  ramming each other's  neck down into the chest.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe primary idea  is to open a path for the ballcarrier. The secondary idea  is to draw  blood. I hate it. But Coach Lombardi seemed to enjoy watching  every  fresh collision.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLombardi thinks of himself as the patriarch of a  large family, and he loves  all his children, and he worries about all  of them, but he demands more of  his gifted children. Lee Roy Caffey, a  tough linebacker from Texas, is one  of the gifted children, and Coach  Lombardi is always on Lee Roy, chewing  him, harassing him, cussing him.  We call Lee Roy \"Big Turkey,\" as in, \"You  ought to be ashamed of  yourself, you big turkey,\" a Lombardi line. Vince  kept saying during  the drill today that if anyone wanted to look like an  All-American, he  should just step in against Caffey.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Look at yourself, Caffey,  look at yourself, that stinks,\" Lombardi shouted.  Later, Vince added,  \"Lee Roy, you may think that I criticize you too much, a  little unduly  at times, but you have the size, the strength, the speed, the  mobility,  everything in the world necessary to be a great football player,   except one thing: YOU'RE TOO DAMN LAZY.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDuring the nutcracker,  Red Mack, a reserve flanker for us last year who  weighs 179 pounds  soaking wet, lined up against Ray Nitschke, who weighs 240  pounds and  is the strongest 240 pounds in football. Ray uses a forearm  better than  anyone I've ever seen; when he swings it up into someone's face,  it's a  lethal weapon. Red should have lined up against someone smaller.  Ray's  used to beating people's heads in, and he enjoys it, but he looked   down at Red Mack and he said, \"Oh, no, I can't go against this guy.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRed looked up at Ray and said, \"Get in here, you sonuvabitch, and let's go.\"","brand":"Anchor","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304884424933,"sku":"NP9780307743381","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780307743381.jpg?v=1767730093","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/instant-replay-isbn-9780307743381","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}