Johnny Blood pays a visit




I love the Lambeau Packers teams of the 20s and 30s because of how colorful they were.

 

John Victory McNally, who played as Johnny Blood, is the loosest cannon to ever lace up in Green Bay. He was an inaugural member of both the Pro Football Hall of Fame (1963) and Packers Hall of Fame (1970). He arrived in Green Bay in the summer of 1929, becoming the biggest playmaker on a team that included Don Hutson, winning three straight NFL titles in 1929, 1930, and 1931. He was a frequent contributor to my old blog. We sat down recently to catch up.

 

CM: Johnny Blood! How have you been? It’s been about seven years since we last caught up. You're one of my favorite fellow ghosts.

 

JB: This is berries to me, chum! How is the world doing?

 

CM: Well, Johnny, things are a little unsettled.

 

JB: Boy, 1929 is a great year! The Dow Jones hit an all-time high on September 3rd. 381.17 on the ticker!! That’s just DARB! Things will never get bad ever again!

 

CM: Uh, yeah. Do you know what happens in October 1929?

 

JB: Sure! We win a lot of football games!

 

CM: Fuck yeah, you do. The Dow Jones hit another all-time high this year too on February 13.

 

JB: Really? Must be crazy high! What is it now? 800? 1500? Holy smokes, we’re all gonna be eggs in no time.

 

CM: It closed at 29,423 on February 13.

 

JB: OOOOHHHHHH, BERRIES!!!! Gotta put some dimes in that slot.

 

CM: Johnny, March 2020 was a bit of a problem, and June has been difficult too. Lots of unrest with the police and confronting racism.

 

JB: Don’t get me started on the coppers. Wish we could stop paying their salaries, know what I mean? Those gum-shoes are always sticking their blue noses in my business when I get properly zozzled on the giggle juice.

 

CM: Many people today feel the police should be defunded entirely.

 

JB: NOW YOU’RE ON THE TROLLEY!! Tell me, what’s racism?

 

CM: I know better than to talk about that with someone from your historical perspective. How is the world in 1929?

 

JB: You wanna know my onions? It’s wild! The British High Court ruled that Canadian dames are “persons” and should be allowed to vote and treated as such. In England, they’re letting dolls, Shebas, tomatoes, calicos and cancelled stamps under the age of 30 vote this year. Calling it the Flapper Vote, see? If she’s got a set of bubs, she can cast a ballot for a Limey, now.

 

CM: Great that progress is happening. Long overdue.

 

JB: Come again?

 

CM: Let’s move on, Johnny. What’s it like playing for Curly Lambeau?

 

JB: Curly? He’s a swell chap. He’s no dewdropper. Lotta moxie in that fella! We’re always practicing hard, doing this crazy ‘forward pass’ maneuver to that Alabama fellow, Hutson. Boy he’s a real Oliver Twist out there with those fancy feet, looking like he’s all hepped up on panther piss once he’s got the ol’ pigskin under his arm. Makes that shit-eatin’ Halas want to go iron his shoelaces, see? Opens up the ground game for me to follow Cal Hubbard and Mike Michalske running wild. Then after practice, Curly tries to grease his weasel with the players’ wives. Crazy how the hotsy-totsy bearcats all over town will drop everything to run off to the petting pantry with ol’ Curly.

 

CM: That’s gotta cause some conflict in the locker room, Johnny. The coach just helps himself to the players’ wives?

 

JB: Oh applesauce! Every now and again we get a real sockdollager of a situation, and someone gets sore, or Curly gets the icy-mitt from a dame and he turns sour, but it’s all jake. Someone’s got a problem, we warn the fella don’t take any wooden nickels or Curly’ll just trade ya to the damn Dayton Triangles. Hell, we’re all so spifficated and half-seas over all the time with John Barleycorn we hardly know what’s going on. Why Vern Lewellen pulled a Daniel Boone in the front seat of Curly’s automobile the other day. We thought it was a riot! No one stayed hot at all. When the smell hit us, we were all laughin and upchuckin all over the sidewalk with Verny.

 

CM: That’s great you guys get along so well that the coach cuckholding a player doesn’t affect your play on the field.

 

JB: Say, you still got that Irish Mick coaching the team, that fat boy from Pittsburg?

 

CM: Easy on the slurs, Johnny. We can’t talk like that now.

 

JB: Oh horsefeathers! Don’t be a wurp; I’m a drunken Irishman too! I can call another sauced up paddy bog-trotter what I wish. Is he still coachin’ or no?

 

CM: No, Mike McCarthy was fired two seasons ago. Two straight losing seasons with Aaron Rodgers at quarterback.

 

JB: The cake-eater with the brittle collarbones?

 

CM: I don’t know what that means, Johnny. That moonshine you slipped me from that still in Allouez is making my teeth numb.

 

JB: Haha, go chase yourself! Then let’s blouse and go pull a jorum of skee!

 

CM: What the fuck? The new coach wants to run the ball and picked a rookie quarterback. Fans are upset.

 

JB: Tell those fans they ought not be a Mrs. Grundy, see? Arnie Herber made Lewellen look like a stiff once he took over in ’32. You want to win games, you need to run the football. Beat those goddamn bears. Level with me - do they still suck?

 

CM: Yeppersnappers!

 

 


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