Cleveland Browns' Collins talks football in Shenandoah

June 28--SHENANDOAH -- Former Cleveland Browns wide receiver Gary Collins became a diamond from the coal region in his pro football career, a story he shared with a crowd Saturday at Shenandoah Valley High School.

"My hometown said I wouldn't be the guy that made it. The other kid that was a good player on the team was supposed to -- that motivated me. Motivation is a great thing if you internalize it and use it as fuel," Collins said at the Jerry Wolman-Northern Anthracite Chapter of the state Sports Hall of Fame lunch Saturday.

A Williamstown High School graduate, Collins was toughened up by his high school football coach.

"My coach was an ex-Marine. We went three days and pads every one of them. Out there for those days with no water. He was a marine, you know you're not getting any water," Collins said, who played for the Browns from 1962-71.

Water wasn't a privilege on the practice field during the 1960s.

"Four years of high school, four years of college, 11 years in pro football; never once was there water on the practice field ... Think of that. No water. You were called a wuss," Collins said.

Three hopeful Shenandoah Valley high school football players listened to Collins' wisdom; Michael Vinas, 15, a wide receiver and corner back; Jason Najunas, 15, a wide receiver and outside line backer; and Freddy Morales, 16, a running back, outside line backer and free safety.

Collins gave the boys multiple pieces of advice, but one that will stick with them forever is "don't drop the ball."

They agreed.

"He only had seven drops in his whole career. In a 19-year career, having only seven drops is crazy," Vinas said.

Morales is a fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers, who are huge rivals of the Browns, but is still inspired by Collins.

"It's kind of neat seeing someone make it so far coming from around here. It gives us hope," he said.

Football in Shenandoah is tradition, Vinas said. In fact, Collins still checks county high school football stats.

"I told those boys, 'You better do good because my husband reads the stats in the paper all the time, he'll find out,' " Carol Collins, Gary's wife, said with a laugh.

Collins recalled "owning" the Blue Mountain Eagles when he played high school football. Blue Mountain's high school football team was a new consolidation at the time.

"Things have evolved, these young guys don't know. So we laid the groundwork for all that nice stuff you have," Gary Collins said with a smile.

In a county where football is tradition, education ended up being most important to Collins, who worked while he was a professional football player.

"Let's say at Williams Valley, there was 35 guys on each team in four years. So we got over 100 people that play football. How many of them are going to play for Penn State? One? Two? How many have played in the NFL?" Collins said. "That tells you the odds of doing what I did. Slim to none. You're better off studying and being a good student. I'm not saying don't play sports, but the odds of you doing what I did is like (someone) going to the moon."

Working and playing in the NFL was a basic part of life in the 1960s.

"Everybody had a second job. I stuck with broadcasting. I had my own radio show. A lot of the guys got into the insurance business, which I did for 25 years. All various things," Collins said.

Players on average had a salary of $20,000, which translates to about $197,000 today, he said. While that sounds like a hefty amount of cash, Collins said, he knew Denver Broncos quarterback Peyton Manning had a game check for $750,000.

Bonuses didn't come easy in football then, either.

The first exhibition game Collins played in against the Detroit Lions earned him a net $37 dollars for the game.

"I said, 'Holy hell, I can make more on a milk truck,' " he said.

Though Collins didn't make much, he was the Cleveland Browns top pick in 1962 draft, fourth overall.

Collins earned the MVP of the 1964 NFL Championship, in which Cleveland upset the Baltimore Colts 27-0.

He was on the receiving end of three touchdown passes that game and five catches, according to www.cleveland.com.

Collins' check, along with the rest of Cleveland's players, was $82,000, the largest championship check up until that time. Collins also took home a 1965 Chevrolet Corvette convertible.

No major Cleveland sports team has won a championship since.

After all of the stories and advice Collins shared Saturday, he mentioned the best piece of advice he'd ever been given by Blanton Collier, Collins' head coach in Cleveland.

"When things are at their worst, you have to rise above that. In sports, you have to rise above that," Collins said. "Blanton was a great believer in that. He believed in me. A big game, he would come up to me while all the other guys are screaming and hollering, and he would come up to me and say 'I need a good one out of you.' That's all he had to say. So he was a great coach."

Stories of his career flowed charismatically for Collins during the lunch, both fun and serious.

A friend and teammate of Collins died in 1959 on the field while he played football at the University of Maryland.

"We had one guy die. My friend (Charles) 'Sonny' Lohr is dead. Six foot, four inches, 235 (pounds), big all-state line backer -- he was fried," Collins said.

A reporter approached Collins with a story idea that would expose university coaches for causing Lohr's death, but his fear of losing his scholarship prevented him from stepping forward.

"Here I am a sophomore, they were expecting great things from me, I had a wife and a kid," he said. "I thought about that for years. Haunting things, you know. He was dead on the field. Again, no water."

Like water was scarce, touchdown celebrations were overrated, he explained.

"This isn't new for me, I'm always here. What I'm saying is, act like you've been there. So I just went, 'yeah I'll be back,' " he said.

He went on to tell the story of how he was fined by the NFL for the way he carried out his touchdown celebration.

"We played a league game against the Steelers in Cleveland on Saturday night. There were 84,000 people there and I had promised my friend who his son called me ... and his dad just died, he was a barber in Williamstown who gave me haircuts. So I said to the kid, 'I'll get the game ball for you.' Hell, I don't know why I said it. Well, I caught a touch down in the last 12 seconds, I turned around and I punted it into the score board -- boom -- got fined by the league," he said.

Collins was asked if he hit the scoreboard when he punted it, to which he responded, "Oh, I drilled it."

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