Just Call Me Football's Greatest Scout

You, dear reader, in your pitiful ignorance, probably have never heard of Raymond (Fido) Murphy. But there is a vociferous body of opinion which holds that Fido Murphy:

?Designed the modern T formation.

?Masterminded the Chicago Bears' historic 73-0 defeat of Washington in the 1940 professional championship game.

?Conceived the smashing defensive maneuver that is known to the millions it has thrilled as red-dogging.

?Laid out the defense that solved San Francisco's startling shotgun offense three years ago.

?Wowed New England basketball crowds with a behind-the-back dribble before Bob Cousy was born.

?And, most important of all, knows more about football than any man alive.

The body of opinion supporting these claims stands 5 feet 8, weighs 182 pounds and is 58 years old. It belongs to Fido Murphy. A more opinionated body you will never find.

Do not jump to the conclusion that Fido Murphy is under confinement while being treated for a Napoleon complex. Fido is very much at large. He is employed by the Chicago Bears and the Pittsburgh Steelers to scout college talent in 12 western states and also, on Sundays, to scout upcoming National Football League opponents. "I'm the best in the business at scouting opponents," Fido modestly states, "but I can't tell you that because you'll think I'm nuts." Coaches who are able to control their tempers in the face of Fido's roaring self-esteem concede that he is an able scout, else why would two clubs pay him for identical information on college talent? The only difference between the thick reports Fido periodically hands his two employers is that one copy is stamped CHICAGO and the other PITTSBURGH. Having imparted his wisdom with impartiality, Fido leaves the Bears and Steelers to race for his recommended players in the NFL draft. Deadly earnest, Fido barks: "It isn't that I'm smarter than everyone else in football. It's just that I know more. Max Stiles, the Los Angeles columnist, wrote, 'They don't make 'em like Fido Murphy anymore.' Sam Cohen, the Bridgeport columnist, wanted to call me a genius, but I wouldn't let him."

Many assume that Fido Murphy's nickname stems from the fact that he resembles an angry bulldog, but Fido furnishes a derivation that is more in keeping with his stature. He explains that a Boston sportswriter, Bill Cunningham, saw him play tailback in 1922 for Westbrook Seminary of Portland, Me. and was moved to superlatives. "He said," says Fido, " 'That kid Murphy did everything but drive the bus. You can't compare him with a human being, you gotta call him a greyhound.' So they called me The Greyhound, and when we played in hostile territory the fans yelled, 'Bowwow!' and they called me Fido."