T. GAMBLE: Tommy Nobis stood tall on lowly Atlanta Falcons teams

In the Bible it states, concerning the end times, that it would be better to have not been born than to live during those days.

I’m not certain but I think this same quote also applied to being an Atlanta Falcons fan during the late ’60s and early ’70s. I’m pretty sure in Leviticus, or maybe one of those chapters that talk about he beget him, and he beget him, so on and so forth, it says, “Strong is the man who wisely picks his football team but woe be unto the wayward man who follows only his heart and roots for the Falcons, as he shall find only despair and utter desolation.”

I chose utter despair and desolation and rooted for the Falcons in the ’60s and ’70s. Back then, players actually stood for the National Anthem and if they knew how to dance, it was a secret known only to their wives and family.

You could hit a receiver five minutes after the ball sailed over his head and a quarterback might as well go ahead and buy false teeth and a good life insurance policy because the referees didn’t care if a defensive end put them in the airplane spin and then pile-drove them to the turf.

And, come to think of it, the turf was God-given grass, or what was left of it, after half a winter, six or seven games, and maybe a few motorcross events in between.

The Falcons played in Fulton County Stadium, where the Braves also played. You could still see the baseball infield most games. They also held the aforementioned races and rock concerts and everything else in between.

I guess they had to, considering the Braves lost two-thirds of their games and the Falcons were lucky if they went 3-11. It’s hard to make money when there are only 5,000 folks in the stands. Playing on concrete would have been softer.

And through it all stood one lone Texan. The No. 1 draft pick in all of college football. Mr. football himself, middle linebacker Tommy Nobis. His reward for being No. 1 was to be picked by the newly formed Falcons.

He’d have been better off to have taken 100 lashes. But back then, you went where you got picked, no questions asked. So, he went.

Nobody bothered to tell him most games it would be him versus 11, as he was surrounded by the biggest group of misfit defensive players ever assembled on one professional football team. And, I loved him.

Nobis lead the team virtually every year in tackles — mean, ornery, slam-you-to-the-turf tackles. He may have been the meanest SOB that ever played the game. If the Falcons had received Dick Butkus and the Chicago Bears received Tommy Nobis, it would be Nobis in the Hall of Fame now and only Falcon fans would know about Butkus. He was every bit as good a middle linebacker as Butkus and he did it all alone. It may have been 20 yards down the field, but, by God, Nobis was going to get you.

By the time he retired, he was gimp-kneed and had a gapped smiled. He’d tackled more folks in 10 or 12 years than most whole teams during that time. He went out without much fanfare and like Gen. MacArthur said about old generals, “They just fade away.”

Now they go and tell me Nobis died this week at the age of 74. Dementia they say. Just flatout faded away. I wonder if it came from all those mean as hell tackles. If it did, I suspect there are a bunch of folks who got tackled by Nobis suffering from dementia.

Well, I’m sorry Tommy is gone but he’s not gone from my memory. I watched a lot of bad football in my youth, but by God I got to see one more good football player each week when I watched Tommy. Thank you, Tommy, and may you rest in peace.

Email columnist T. Gamble at [email protected].