Tag: football

No. 92: Rich Dimler

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness factors in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 92:

= Rich Dimler, USC football, Los Angeles Express

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 92:

= Rick Tocchet, Los Angeles Kings
= Don Gibson, USC football

The most interesting story for No. 92:
Rich Dimler, USC football nose guard (1975 to 1978), Los Angeles Express defensive tackle (1983 to 1984)
Southern California map pinpoints:
Los Angeles, Glendale, Inglewood, Hawthorne, Torrance, Rancho Palos Verdes

Los Angeles Times, Sept. 8, 1978.

Raise a glass to Rick Dimler. With caution.

The fact he made it through 44 years of roughhousing, and once heralded by USC defensive line coach Marv Goux as “the toughest player I’ve seen in 22 years of coaching” while playing on four straight Trojan bowl victories, is worthy of a toast.

But then again, there was the time when his home town in New Jersey tried to throw a parade in his honor, and it didn’t end well.

Homecomings can be problematic if the honoree celebrates too early and too often.

In March of 1979, Dimler was living off the fame of finishing his four years of football at USC, capped off by a 12-1 season, co-captain of the defensive squad that was highly effective in a Rose Bowl win over Michigan, and giving the Trojans a national championship in the eyes of many voters of such polls.

At this point, Dimler was back visiting friends and family in Bayonne, New Jersey. The cityfolk were finalizing plans for what would be Rich Dimler Day — a parade in his honor, a key to the city, the red-carpet treatment. Beers hoisted and thrown back as he could now look forward to what the NFL might bring.

The party was set for April, but, again, Dimler put himself in a situation that had penalty flags flying all over the place.

On March 12, Bayonne police say they saw Dimler in a car racing another car right down Broadway through the city, and started chasing him at 2 a.m. Dimler, according to the authorities, ran three red lights trying to escape. The other car got away. Dimler was hauled in.

At that point, the 6-foot-6, 260-pound Dimler had a dim view on how this might be a teachable moment.

“I’ll have your jobs; I’ll have both your jobs!” Dimler was said to have screamed at the officers, pushing one of them away. He was eventually accused of striking a patrolman in the chest at police headquarters and deemed “unruly” while in the jail cell.

“He flunked his breathalyzer test in flying colors,” said Lt. Vincent Bonner said in newspaper accounts. The .22 result was well above the legal limit of .15.

As soon as Dimler was out on bail facing charges of assault and battery and creating a disturbance, reporters covering the incident discovered he had been arrested just a month earlier in Los Angeles on driving under the influence, but no charges were filed.

Those digging further into his legal history found a disturbing incident in 1973, the year before he left New Jersey to attend USC, when Dimler, then 17, was acquitted of a death by auto charge in juvenile court. He had been charged of hitting and killing a 10-year-old girl as she crossed the street, and he left the scene. All that happened at the time was getting put on probation.

Bayonne City Councilman Donald Ahern — who happened to be Dimler’s high school coach in the mid-’70s — was asked about how all this might tarnish te upcoming day in his honor.

“He’s a good kid with a good heart; I’d be the last guy to leave the ship for that kid,” said Ahern.

If Dimler needed another character witness, in November of ’78, USC coach John Robinson was telling the Los Angeles Times’ John Hall about how the season had been progressing with Dimler in command of the defense.

“If they ever draw up a blueprint for the ideal leader,” Robinson said, “that’s Dimler.”

Continue reading “No. 92: Rich Dimler” →

No. 12: Richard Nixon

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 12:

= Vlade Divac, Los Angeles Lakers
= Charles White: USC football
= Dusty Baker: Los Angeles Dodgers
= Tommy Davis: Los Angeles Dodgers
= James Harris: Los Angeles Rams
= Juju Watkins: USC women’s basketball
= Dwight Howard: Los Angeles Lakers
= Todd Marinovich: Los Angeles Raiders, Los Angeles Avengers

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 12:
= Pat Riley: Los Angeles Lakers
= Gerrit Cole: UCLA baseball
= Denise Curry: UCLA women’s basketball
= Joe Namath: Los Angeles Rams
= Randall Cunningham: Santa Barbara High football
= Jeff Kent: Los Angeles Dodgers

The most interesting story for No. 12:
Richard Nixon: Whittier College football offensive tackle (1930 to 1933)
Southern California map pinpoints:
Yorba Linda, Fullerton, Whittier, San Clemente

The (Clarksville, Tenn.) Leaf-Chronicle, Jan. 20, 1969

From Richard Milhous Nixon’s perspective of own his life and legacy, victories were unimpeachable.

History notes he did lose the 1960 Presidential Election (even it was by just 0.17 points in the popular vote). And he lost the 1962 California governor’s race by five points. But that wasn’t going to define him — or let anyone kick him around in the public arena.

His greatest comeback was the 1968 election to become the 37th President of the United States. It was followed up by a landslide re-election in 1972, winning by nearly 18 million votes.

Nixon went into his “V” formation, both hands flashing triumph for all it was worth.

During those four-plus years as the commander in chief, Nixon was also obsessed with not being the one pinned with losing the Vietnam War.

But then there’s the old sports adage: If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying.

That line of demarcation for sportsmanship led to him forfeiting the most powerful position in the world. A devastating defeat that became the lede to his obituary.

Where did the win-at-all-costs philosophy come from?

Consider the frustrated athletic career he had first at Fullerton High and Whittier High, leading into a highly influential period on the Whittier College football team, capped off by wearing No. 12 his senior year.

Nixon believed in the words and actions by a football coach known as “Chief,” a commanding voice that taught him all about the importance of how the games are played, how to win, and also even lessons on how to take a loss and make it a teachable moment.

Nixon hated losing. Perhaps, to his determent. Sports played a part in that journey.

Born on a lemon ranch in Yorba Linda in 1913, Richard (given the name by his parents after Richard the Lionheart) was 12 years old when a spot was found on his lung and there was a family history of tuberculosis — an older and younger brother died from it.

Richard Nixon was told not to play sports. Even thought the spot turned out to be scar tissue from an early bout of pneumonia.

Growing up among those Nixon would eventually refer to as “forgotten Americans” and the “silent majority” of hard-working church folks just chasing a dream, he was drawn to try out for JV football at Fullerton High. When he then transferred closer to home at Whittier High at the start of his junior year, he ended up as a student manager for the athletic teams. At Whittier High, he ran for class president but lost to a candidate he would describe as “an athlete and personality boy.”

With the start of the Great Depression in 1930, Nixon didn’t pursue college at Harvard or Yale, but stayed closer to home at Whittier College, pursing a history degree. While he played basketball and football, and also tried out for track and baseball, his victories were celebrated on the debate team.

Continue reading “No. 12: Richard Nixon” →

No. 7: Todd Marinovich

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness factor sin. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 7:

= Bob Waterfield: UCLA football; Los Angeles Rams
= Lamar Odom: Los Angeles Clippers; Los Angeles Lakers
= Matt Barkley: USC football
= Julio Urias: Los Angeles Dodgers
= Don Rogers: UCLA football
= Steve Yeager: Los Angeles Dodgers
= Mark Carrier, USC football

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 7:

= Todd Marinovich: Mater Dei High football, Capistrano Valley High football
= Mark Harmon: UCLA football
= Jay Schroeder: UCLA football
= Frankie Kelleher: Hollywood Stars baseball
= Dennis Thurman: USC football

The most interesting story for No. 7:
Todd Marinovich, Santa Ana Mater Dei High School and Capistrano Valley High football quarterback (1985 to 1989), USC football quarterback (1988 to 1990), Los Angeles Raiders quarterback (1991 to 1992), Los Angeles Avengers quarterback (2000 to 2001)
Southern California map pinpoints:
Mission Viejo, Santa Ana, Los Angeles (Coliseum, Staples Center), Newport Beach, Irvine, Indio

Proceed with caution if you decide to use Todd Marinovich as sports’ poster boy for the ultimate “cautionary tale.” It’s old news in this case.

The label can still a bit addicting for journalists who think they’ve accurately reported on his creation story, going back to his time as a high school quarterback in Orange County setting California state high school passing records. They then observed his personal and playing career arch reveal extreme highs and lows at USC, the NFL’s Los Angeles Raiders, circling back to Los Angeles for a run with an Arena League team to support a drug habit, and eventually landing on a Palm Springs football field near the age of 50 still trying to find himself.

Tale as old as time, but one that needs a fresh angle every now and then.

In a 2019 piece for the Chicago Tribune by Rick Telander, the “cautionary tale” reference got its latest rewind when dissecting Team Marinovich and the mess it seemed to make in the public eye:

Todd Marinovich at Capistrano Valley High School in 1987. (George Rose/Getty Images)

“You’ll recall that Todd was the young man manipulated from birth (actually pre-birth) by his father to be the best, purist, greatest quarterback the world had ever seen. Marv had played football at USC, and he wanted, for reasons buried deep within his own inadequacies, to create a boy who would have the sporting genetics for quarterbacking and be trained incessantly, focused unfailingly and driven like a sled dog toward the apex of the country’s most popular game.”

Telander dragged that trope out because he just read something in Sports Illustrated by Michael Rosenberg, titled “Learning To Be Human Again.” As if Marinovich was emancipated from some reverse metamorphic process.

Rosenberg’s launching point was actually a purposeful revisit of that 1988 Sports Illustrated spread Doug Looney laid out titled “Bred to be a Superstar” that likely started the whole social science shebang on judging the Marinovich Parental Method and its doomed-to-fail, real-world predictions.

Before that piece, California magazine dropped one with the headline “Robo QB: The Making of the Perfect Athlete.” Then came a People magazine profile in 1987.

That was the fragile framework created for Todd Marinovich, no matter where he went from there. The poor kid, readers could easily conclude. Talented, kind-hearted, fun-loving, well mannered. Able bodied.

Call Child Protective Services.

We seem to have the idea that one who is abused and manipulated as a kid is set up to abuse himself later in life and continue a genetic pattern of human frailty. Unless that person figures things out with help, counseling and avoiding some sort of tragic ending.

Maybe the “worst sports father” adjective just won’t go away years later. Even if his father literally went away.

But Todd Marinovich can explain better how it happened with him as a willing participant, trying to navigate the life of a high school kid in full media spotlight, and how it really turned out.

Todd Marinovich as a Mater Dei High School quarterback in 1986 in San Juan Capistrano. (Paul Harris/Getty Images)

That Todd Marinovich was born on the Fourth of July in 1969 may have added to the storyline that started with him on a All-American pathway.

He played a lot of sports, perhaps exceeding most in basketball, but football would be the real test. First were the years at Mater Dei High in Santa Ana, a football factory that had produced Heisman Trophy winners before and after Marinovich’s brief appearance there. That was followed by a surprise transfer to Capistrano Valley in Mission Viejo.

The switch to Capo Valley by his father Marv would be one of things listed on his parents’ separation filing in the courts. Todd has no say in it. He would live with his dad an an in-law quarters at the house of head coach Dick Enright, likely a CIF violation.

While wearing No. 7, Marinovich went up against rival quarterback Bret Johnson in 1987 when ESPN televised its first-ever high school game, between Capo Valley and El Toro.

Continue reading “No. 7: Todd Marinovich” →

No. 35: Petros Papadakis

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 35:

= Sidney Wicks, UCLA basketball
= Bob Welch, Los Angeles Dodgers
= Cody Bellinger, Los Angeles Dodgers
= Jean-Sebastien Giguere, Anaheim Mighty Ducks
= Christian Okoye, Azusa Pacific College football

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 35:

= Tank Younger, Los Angeles Rams
= Loy Vaught, Los Angeles Clippers
= Rudy LaRusso, Los Angeles Lakers
= Ron Settles, Long Beach State football

The most interesting story for No. 35:
Petros Papadakis, USC football tailback (1996  to 2000)
Southern California map pinpoints:
San Pedro, Palos Verdes, Hollywood, Los Angeles (Coliseum, Sports Arena)

Oct. 15, 1998: On USC’s third play from scrimmage in the first quarter, Trojans junior tailback Petros Papadakis finishes off a 65-yard touchdown run against Cal at the Coliseum (top, and below). Papadakis had 13 carries for 158 yards in his greatest statistical performance of his USC career in a 32-31 Week 6 loss. (Photos by Jon Soohoo/USC)

Any sort of perfunctory profile of Petros Papadakis becomes the proverbial Sisyphean pursuit. Hopefully we don’t have to Greek-splain too much here.

Sisyphus, the first king of Ephyra, found his eternal fate in Hades rolling a huge boulder endlessly up a hill, only to see it come back down at him. Every time he made progress and got on a roll, it reversed on him like a Looney Tunes cartoon. The whole thing seemed so Kafkaesque that French philosopher Albert Camus, writing “The Myth of Sisyphus” in 1942, elevated him to some absurd hero status in Greek mythology.

Something that Papadakis might find relatable.

When Papadakis gets on his own a roll, cutting it up on KLAC-AM (570)’s afternoon sports-talk drive-time “Petros and Money Show,” there is far less sports and much more drive to just being a voice for “la raza.” It’s a focus on a feeling of being in “la ciudad” with Papadakis, as familiar as he is bombastic, just the person in the passenger seat making observational conversation to it real.

He is part of USC football legacy, a linage of Cardinal and Gold athletes whose performance has been documented in Los Angeles’ grand Coliseum. Papadakis’ work ethic formed at his family’s famously iconic San Pedro Taverna, as he went from dishwasher to waiter to spending all his earnings for the night back on his guests to make sure they went home happy.

Maybe Papadakis became an accidental broadcaster, but it’s a career that likely defines him as much if not more than anything else. Once a Trojan workhorse in the USC backfield, he is the sometimes-hoarse former Trojan on the dashboard radio. A Red Bull in a china shop of hot topics. The connoisseurs of SoCal sports who enjoy conquering as much as consuming any kind of history lesson are better for it.

Fox Sports’ Petros Papadakis, left, with USC head football coach Lane Kiffin in 2011.

Back to the profile: Papadakis has provided quips along the way to make his story even more cohesive:

Continue reading “No. 35: Petros Papadakis” →

No. 93: Ndamukong Suh

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 93:
= Ndamukong Suh, Los Angeles Rams
= Greg Townsend, Los Angeles Raiders

The most interesting story for No. 93:
Ndamukong Suh, Los Angeles Rams nose tackle (2018)
Southern California map pinpoints:
Inglewood (SoFi Stadium)

For all the unnecessary roughness during a 13-year NFL career — the down-low, scandalized way he treated opposing players — Ndamukong Suh never got sued.

Maybe the league’s witness protection program wasn’t all that great. Or, maybe because, deep down, he was really a super nice guy whose actions off the field spoke louder than his red-flag existence on the gridiron of employment?

In nearly 200 regular season games, including three Super Bowls, another handful of playoff appearances, five times added to a Pro Bowl squad, and a handful of exhibition games where rules still applied, the 6-foot-4, 313-pound Suh leveraged his abilities to earn about $163 million in salary. That included $14 million that the Los Angeles Rams gave him to join their organization in 2018, a strategic move to free up the often double-teamed All Pro defensive end Aaron Donald.

Now subtract more than $400,000 for all the fines and lost pay checks Suh incurred.

“Some may say (his penalty payments were) a bargain to pay in light of what he had earned — all the intimidation that came from his reputation,” USA Today columnist Mike Freeman wrote when Suh, in a rather poignant social media post, announced in July of 2025 he was officially retired from the NFL at age 38.

Continue reading “No. 93: Ndamukong Suh” →