The 'All World' Tight End Russ Francis, My Boyhood Idol, Dies in a Plane Crash

Tragedy strikes again. First the fans of New England lose Tim Wakefield - who were it not for him jumping on the grenade in the 19-8 blowout in Game 3 of the ALCS to save the bullpen, sacrificing his Game 4 start in the process, we'd never have won the 2004 World Series - and now we lose Russ Francis. 

Adirondack Enterprise -The two people killed in an airplane crash at the Lake Placid Airport on Sunday have been identified as Russ Francis, a former NFL tight end who recently purchased the Lake Placid Airways scenic tour business at the airport and Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association’s Senior Vice President Richard McSpadden.

The crash happened around 4:09 p.m. at the end of a runway, close to the North Elba Athletic Fields.

It's hard for me not to personalize this one. I swear I am not making this up when I say I had a conversation once with my brothers when I was a kid and they asked if I could make a wish and become anybody in the world whom I'd pick. And without even thinking about it, I said Russ Francis. The reasons why are spelled out in my first book:

Drafted with the 16th overall pick in the '75 draft, the tight end out of Oregon was that rare guy who had everything possible going for him. He was bright. He was good-looking. He was a likeable free spirit. He lived in Hawaii, where he ran his own business chartering and flying planes. Women wanted to be with him and men wanted to be him. Francis also had a natural athletic talent gifted from the gods. In high school, he took up javelin throwing, and five weeks later he was setting the national scholastic record. In his first round of golf he shot an 82. [Hall of Fame guard] John Hannah was never shy about admitting he was jealous of Francis' natural abilities.

In '75 [head coach] Chuck Fairbanks asked his personnel director Bucko Kilroy who the best athlete in the draft was. Without hesitation, he said Francis. 

But there were complications. Because of three coaching changes in three seasons, he didn't play a down in his senior year. Fairbanks didn't care. So Kilroy reached an agreement with Francis not to submit his paperwork to declare eligible for the draft until the last possible minute, which through other teams off the scent. And it worked. 

As a rookie, he had 636 receiving yards and 18.2 yards per reception. In his second year, the Pats turned a 3-11 record into 11-3 and went to the playoffs for the first time in my life. And somewhere along the way, he became a favorite of Howard Cosell at a time when that actually meant something in America. And his stamp of approval could make an athlete a household name. It was Cosell who referred to him as "The All World Tight End" every time he uttered his name. That team lost a playoff game at Oakland, which remains the worst officiated game of all time. And there is no lack of players on the losing side who think it was a bag job, designed to keep Raider fans happy because there was a ballot initiative pending that would build Al Davis a stadium and keep him from moving to Los Angeles. 

Francis had four receptions for 96 yards and a touchdown in that one. But there are two plays he was involved in that I will take to my grave. First:

Raiders linebacker George Atkinson sent his fist through the gap in Francis' facemask, shattering his nose across his face. No call.

Second, while the Pats were trying to keep a drive alive that would've run out the clock and preserved a 21-17 victory:

[T]he next play was all on the officials. Facing a third and 6, [Steve] Grogan had the perfect play call. He made the perfect read. Delivered the perfect throw to the perfect target, right in the middle of his perfect chest. But the ball bounced off and landed on the ground, a perfect incompletion. 

There's no disputing who's to blame for that one, and they were wearing black and white zebra stripes. Francis couldn't catch the pass because Raiders linebacker Phil Villapiano had him in a bear hug, with his arms pinned by his sidelines. …

Francis was incredulous. The Patriots sidelines went beserk. But no call. The Pats knew they'd been jobbed. The Raiders knew it. The bloodthirsty morons in the crowd knew it.

In the weeks that followed, Francis and Atkinson were in a war of words through the press about the punch that smashed his nose. Atkinson didn't much appreciate it being mentioned since he claimed Francis had walked off the field together and Francis told him he hoped the Raiders went on to win the Super Bowl. Which they did. "Fuck Russ Francis, that sissy," he told the Miam Herald. "People who don't want to get hit shouldn't go on the football field." It was a different time..

But the main reason I bring all this up is because it leads to my favorite Russ Francis story:

He did exact some measure of revenge against Villiapiano though. A year later Villapiano and his wife were visiting Hawaii, and Francis invited them up in one of his charter planes. Adn when they'd reached maximum altitude, he reached over, opened Villapiano's door, and started to push him out. "I got scratch marks all over my neck from his wife. She thought I was trying to kill him. I guess I was." 

Which I suppose is tragically ironic in retrospect. But I repeat, it was a different time. And American males dealt with each other differently. 

Beyond the football field, he lived a fascinating life. His father was a professional wrestling promoter in Hawaii, and he always talked about growing up with superstars like Classy Freddie Blassie and Andre the Giant, who used to toss Russ and his brother into the ocean for fun, around the house. And when he was on the Oregon Track and Field team, one of his teammates was running legend Steve Prefontaine. But it was with the Patriots, and later the 49ers, where he truly found his own celebrity. And there's no better example than this tribute paid to him by Bill Belichick (cued up to the 10:00 mark):

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That's how I remembered him as well. And always will. So it is that another great Boston athlete is gone too soon, at the tender age of 70. And a small piece of my childhood is gone with him. Godspeed, All World. And thanks.