Walter & Me (14 page)

8. Bringin’ In the New

The Bible tells you that if you ask for forgiveness with a pure heart, then forgiveness will be yours. There’s no other price that needs payin’ because Jesus Christ done already paid it. Walter and I had plenty of “come to Jesus” moments over the years, that’s for sure. I mean, there are some things I’ve done throughout my college and professional football careers that I’m not proud of, and I’ve had to look to the Lord to wipe it all away. It’s only through Him that I’ve been able to the throw out the old and bring in the new. I’m no different than anyone else. Same goes for Walter. And as for anyone else, well, nobody’s perfect. We all need forgiveness. We all need to come to Jesus. We all need our sins washed away. Perhaps none of us more so than the men calling the shots for the Falcons, the Cowboys, and the Colts in the 1975 NFL draft. Those teams had the first three picks. Walter Payton went fourth. Sinners.

Steve Bartkowski, quarterback from the University of California, was taken by the Atlanta Falcons as the No. 1 pick, and there was no doubt who they were going with. Things were a little different after that. The Dallas Cowboys had the second pick, and they couldn’t decide. They wanted to go one way and then another. Legendary Bears coach Mike Ditka was an assistant coach with Dallas in 1975. He said, “In the war room, when we were trying to decide who to take, Dan Reeves and all the offensive coaches wanted to take Walter. Coach Landry was a little more defensive-minded, though he agreed Walter was the best player in the draft.” Everybody wanted my little brother, and a lot of teams were trying to trade up to get him. But Coach Ditka said that in the end Dallas wound up taking defensive tackle Randy White out of Maryland. “Not a bad pick,” said Ditka of White. “He was a great, great player and ended up in the Hall of Fame, too.” Okay, so the Cowboys passed on one of the greatest players of all time to get another Hall of Famer at a position where they had a need. Maybe we can let that slide, but surely the next team would take Walter. Or maybe not.

The Baltimore Colts had the third pick and selected Ken Huff, an offensive guard out of the University of North Carolina. Should’ve been Walter. Ray Perkins was a scout for the New England Patriots at the time, and he was amazed to see Walter fall past the third pick. Perkins was from Petal, Mississippi, so maybe he was partial to someone from his home state, but I think it was more about what he saw as a scout. “I watched Walter practice, and he was simply unbelievable,” Perkins said about scouting my brother. “That was the good news. The bad news was we had the 16
th
pick that year, and there was no way he would still be available by then.” He was right.

As you know, the Chicago Bears chose Walter in the first round, making him the fourth player picked overall. Two picks later, Walter’s close friend from Jackson State, Robert Brazile, became the sixth pick. Despite some rumors to the contrary, Brazile was not wearing that hideous monster mask at the draft. Coach Hill locked that thing away for good. All Brazile had on his face was a big ol’ smile. Two boys from Jackson State were among the top six picks and going to the NFL. If Walter didn’t need a good lawyer back at Jackson State, well, he needed a good lawyer now.

A few weeks before the draft, Walter hired a guy named Bud Holmes to represent him. Bud was from Petal, Mississippi, just like Ray Perkins, only he didn’t know anything about Walter like Perkins did. A friend of Bud’s named Vernon Bowen called him one day and wanted to know if he’d represent a black athlete from Jackson State. Bud said, “Sure, there are a lot of good people at Jackson State. Tell me about him.” And Vernon did just that. He told Bud about this kid named Walter Payton who was just such a good football player and was probably going to go in the first round of the NFL draft that year. Despite all Walter had done at Jackson State, he wasn’t a household name in the area just yet since he didn’t play at Southern Miss or Mississippi State. Most people didn’t follow Jackson State, despite how good we were. Bud said, “Hell, I hadn’t ever heard of Walter Payton, truthfully.” Coach Hill called Bud after he talked to Vernon and said he was bringing down two boys for Bud to consider representing. Coach brought Walter and Robert Brazile down. Bud met with them and really liked Walter and Brazile right off the bat. They all hit it off, shook hands, and Bud agreed he’d represent them when the draft came around. That first meeting gave him a snapshot of my little brother, but it wasn’t until about a month or so later that Bud got a closer look at the type of guy Walter was.

The graduating seniors from the high school in Petal were planning a weenie roast at Bud’s farm to celebrate making it through. They knew Bud was connected to football down there and wanted him to get Bobby Collins, who was the head coach at Southern Mississippi, to come speak to ’em. Or, if he couldn’t get Coach Collins, they wanted Ray Guy, who was Bud’s first client, to show up to the party. Well, Bud tried his best, but those guys each had a conflict or something and couldn’t make it. In an effort to give them something, he told the high school boys, “Well, I’m representing a kid from over here at Columbia that is supposed to be real good. He broke all kinds of records up at Jackson State, and I’ll see if he’ll come over and speak to y’all.”

So, Bud called Walter and asked if he’d do him a favor and come speak to these boys graduating from high school in Petal. Walter jumped right at it and said, “I’ll be glad to come.”

Bud said, “Great. We’ll have hot dogs and hamburgers, so yeah, just come on over and have a good time with us.” The thing is, it was the first year of integration at Petal High School, so there was still some racial divide down there. Bud said, “So, here it is, I had all these white high school kids with all these pickup trucks and shotguns and rebel flags in the back of the trucks, and I was bringing in this black kid to speak to them. I guess I didn’t really think anything about it at the time.”

The white kids had a big ol’ bonfire going, and everybody was having a good time roasting hot dogs and all that. Then Bud introduced Walter. With him being black and all those kids being white, and since Bud had never really been around Walter more than just to say hello and shake hands, he started to get a little nervous about the whole situation. He wasn’t sure what those boys were going to say to Walter, and he wasn’t sure what Walter was going to say to those boys. It finally dawned on him that perhaps he should’ve thought it all through a little better. But none of that so much as fazed my little brother. Walter just started talking, roasting hot dogs, and acting like he fit right in. He told a joke or two, but those kids didn’t so much as crack a smile. Bud watched the whole thing unfold and saw Walter trying to break through the wall those white kids were putting up. Bud started getting mad about how they were treating Walter and thought,
Hell, these kids are being rude. I’m paying for everything out here, and they’re going to act like this toward my guest?
Boy, I ought to get in there and run every damn one of them off my land and just enjoy these hot dogs with Walter.
The whole time, Walter just never quit talking. He kept on and on and on, talking about this and joking about that. He was just one of the boys even if they didn’t see him that way.

Finally, Walter got around to talking about the upcoming Super Bowl. Bud remembers what happened next like it was yesterday. “He asked the group, ‘Who’s going to win the Super Bowl?’” Then they all started talking about both teams and who’d win and all that. Well, every time one of them boys would say something, Bud said Walter would do the opposite of what they did to him. He’d just light up and, if appropriate, he’d fall over dying laughing. “I mean, if they told a joke, Walter acted like it was just the funniest thing he’d ever heard,” Bud remembered. Soon those white kids were smiling and just talking back and forth, and the next thing you know, all of them wanted their picture taken with my little brother. Of course, Walter obliged. “They were all getting their picture taken with this black kid,” Bud said, “and I’m not sure who was more excited, Walter or those high school kids.”

Walter didn’t get in a hurry that night, and he didn’t let the rudeness from those kids get to him, and it really impressed Bud. After watching how Walter’s attitude transformed those kids as the night went on, Bud just looked at Walter and thought,
Now, this kid’s got something special. He’s got a certain flair to him that you don’t see every day. He can read people. He knows how to handle them.

The only problem was, it wouldn’t be all fun with Walter. When Walter was finally drafted in the first round by the Bears, he acted a fool and didn’t get in touch with Bud until he was asked to give a press conference in Chicago. He was a bit panicked about it and called Bud for advice.

Bud didn’t hear from Walter for about a week after the draft. There was a picture of him and Brazile on a motorcycle floating around, but that was all Bud saw of them. Both of them were drafted in the first round, and Bud was supposed to be representing them, but all he ever had with either of ’em up to that point was a handshake and a meeting or two. And Walter was out there saying some mess about how he’s going to law school and would be representing himself. It was a joke that Bud didn’t find too humorous. Well, all of a sudden, Bud gets a phone call from Walter, and he’s in a panic saying, “Look, I’m supposed to be going to Chicago for a press conference.”

“Good,” Bud said.

“What should I do when I get there?” Walter asked.

“Okay, you got something to write with?” Bud responded.

“Yeah.”

“Go to a phone booth, and as soon as you get there, get the yellow pages out. Look under attorney. That’s spelled A-T-T-O-R-N-E-Y. Look that up ’cause you’re going to need somebody to represent your sorry ass.”

Walter was surprised by that. “Huh?” he asked, not sure what to do. “You not representing me?”

Bud wasn’t about to put up with my little brother’s antics. “Nah,” he said. “Hell, I already told you. I thought you and I had an agreement that I represented you, but look how you’ve been acting. I only represent
proud
black men. I won’t put up with this bullshit. You get drafted and don’t so much as call me. How many times I got to tell you?”

“Come on, man,” Walter said.

“Are you not hearing me? Listen, I haven’t heard a word from you since the draft. So, I just want you to get somebody else, okay? Someone who will put up with that bullshit, ’cause I won’t. Hell, I ain’t got time to fool with somebody like you.”

“Man, don’t do me that way,” Walter pleaded. “I need you, man. Come on and give me another chance.”

Bud had an idea. “Okay, I’ll tell you what, here’s what we’re going to do. Be in my office in the morning at 10:00
am
. I don’t mean 10:01 or 9:59, okay? I mean 10:00. Then I’ll see you.”

So, Bud got down to his office at something like 7:30 the next morning, and Walter was already there outside, standing on the corner just waiting for him. There’s no telling how long he’d been there, but Bud wasn’t about to see him just yet. Bud walked right on by, only saying good morning to him or something like that. He just kept on going and went inside his office, leaving Walter outside. Well, a few minutes later, Bud’s secretary came back to his office and said, “Walter Payton is out here to see you.” Bud said, “I know it, but I told him 10:00. He can wait.” So, Bud didn’t do a damn thing but sit there and make Walter wait until 10:00. At exactly 10:00
am
, Bud called up to his secretary and said, “Okay, bring him on back.”

Walter came in and said, “I want to apologize,” but Bud cut him off right away.

“Now, Walter,” he said, “we can either start over—and we’re going to start over on the right foot, or there ain’t going to be no foot at all for us. Do you understand that?” Walter nodded and then apologized, apologized, and apologized. After too much of that, Bud said, “Okay, that’s good.” They shook hands and had a new deal and a new understanding. That’s when Bud Holmes really became my brother’s agent.

When Walter first told me about Bud, it was like he was Walter’s new favorite person in the world. I didn’t know anything about Bud, but Walter sure seemed to love him. He was singing Bud’s praises over and over and over. When I finally got a chance to meet him, I wanted to punch the guy.

Walter kept telling me, “Man, you got to meet my lawyer!” He’d talk about how Bud was just super cool and the best lawyer around. He even said Bud would be able to help me get back into football. Well, you know that sounded good to me, so one day we jumped in Walter’s infamous 240Z and headed down Highway 49 toward Hattiesburg to meet up with Bud. Before I knew it, we were deep into the woods, out from Petal. We drove down a narrow driveway and followed a long winding road to this big cabin overlooking a lake. Walter was excited to be there and ran on in ahead of me while I was getting my stuff out of the car. I walked in through the door, and Walter said, “Bud, I want you to meet my brother. He can really play.” There was some nervous awkwardness walking in, mostly from me, and I think Bud could tell. He decided to try to lighten things up and break all that down by throwing caution to the wind and slinging some fightin’ words. After Walter introduced me, this whiter-than-white white guy got up out of the chair and said to Walter, “Yeah, yeah, come on in here. Sit your black ass down and tell me what you can do.” I stopped in my tracks, and the grin I had walking in fell right off my face. I must admit, all the nervous awkwardness did, too. Now, it was just plain awkward. I thought,
Whoa, I know he didn’t just say that
.

I was seriously shocked. I mean, I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe I was going crazy…or at least a little deaf…or both. I remember thinking,
Wow, I’m about to put a whoopin’ on this guy right here.
I had yet to move a muscle, though, and that included my tongue. Not saying a word, I just looked at Walter in disbelief. What shocked me even more than Bud’s words was that Walter didn’t seem bothered at all by any of it. He was over there just saying, “Now, Eddie, don’t worry about that, okay? That’s just Bud, that’s just Bud. He don’t mean a thing by it.” But at that time and in that cabin I saw things a little differently than that. I was asking myself,
Am I about to walk into a scene from
Deliverance
up in here?
I wasn’t sure what sort of unsavory characters might be hiding in the other room, just waiting to jump out and do who knows what to Walter and me. Still, Walter insisted it was nothing and that everything was cool. Bud nodded, and I darted my eyes back and forth between them for a minute. They both smiled, and I started to follow my brother’s lead. Maybe he was right. Perhaps Bud really didn’t mean nothing by it.