Needlessly Obscure Players and the Cards that Immortalize Them, Part Veintidós: Frank Ryan.
Dr. Ryan, NFL champ QB, obscure? Underrated? Lemme explain.
Ryan spent four fruitless years with the Rams trying to get past Zeke Bratkowski and Billy Wade, as Sid Gillman was fickle and Bob Waterfield was clueless. So, during that time he doggedly pursued his doctorate in mathematics. You know, like Broadway Joe and Bobby Layne did. Finally, doctorate in hand, he gave Waterfield an ultimatum–trade me or I quit. Seeing how the Rams had just drafted Roman Gabriel, Waterfield’s decision was an easy one.
The Rams dumped Dr. Ryan on the Browns. Paul Brown wasn’t enamored with the good doctor (you can tell this on his ‘63 card because he came in less than a month after he’d released Len Dawson, and Ryan was hastily given his jersey for the picture) until his starter Jim Ninowski was hurt…and Doctor Frank Ryan (now wearing #13) finally had his chance. Well, it took Paul Brown to be fired by owner Art Modell for it to happen. In came Blanton Collier, who made it clear Frank was his starter for 1963.
The results? Dr. Ryan led the Browns to a 10-4 record and threw twenty-five touchdown passes, while handing off to Jim Brown, who rushed for a career high 1,841 yards. But 1964 was even better. The Browns went 10-3-1, and claimed the eastern division title–only to face the 12-2 Baltimore Colts, who were prohibitive favorites.
No problem. Frank cut the vaunted Colt defense to ribbons, tossing three touchdown passes as the Browns embarrassed the Colts, 27-0. Gino Marchetti claimed that the good doctor ran up the score, and vowed revenge. And in the Pro Bowl, he combined with Willie Wood and Roger Brown to deliver a hit on Ryan that damaged his shoulder. Surgery never fully took away the pain, but Dr. Ryan still led Cleveland back to the NFL final in 1965 and to the NFL championship game in 1968. Vince Lombardi even paid him $100,000 to be his backup quarterback when he coached the Redskins in 1969.
So, how is he obscure? Being “smart” only confused and alienated reporters. Reporters asked him to explain his doctoral thesis, and when he didn’t (knowing they’d be clueless) they took that as arrogance. And when he actually did, reporters made fun of him. Meanwhile, two guys named Unitas and Starr got the love. He just couldn’t win, and as a result he never got his due respect. And to this day, he’s “the guy who handed off to Jim Brown”.
But among mathematicians, he’s right there with Crazylegs Euclid and Too Tall Pythagoris.
Watch this awesome video of the doctor!
