But after a while we confessed, and Bud administered a lecture and that was the end of the matter.
By the time our final game came around against the Lions, I was itching to have a great day, to put the clamp on the starting quarterback job for next season. Instead, I had one of the worst games of my career. Alex Karras was very much on my mind, and I figured I'd better not go through his tackle any more than absolutely necessary. So on the first play I called a sweep to the left side, away from Alex. Then I called a bootleg to the left, again away from Karras. On the fifth play of the game I called a roll-out to the left, but before I could get started, who do you think jumps me and whomps me to the ground and starts roaring in my ear like a wild animal? He hollers, "Yah! Yah! Yah! Kapp. Don't ever go my way!" At that point he could have broken any one of my arms or legs, so I'm lying quietly and trying not to antagonize him. "Don't you ever go my way!" he hollers again, while I'm saying to myself, "Damn, I've run away from him three times and here he is on top of me telling me not to go his way. Which way isn't his way?" But as he got up and walked off, I couldn't resist saying, "——you, Karras!" and after that his teammates were all over me. That was the day Lem Barney intercepted three of my passes in one quarter (all by myself I made him All-Pro that year), and we lost the game 14-3, finishing the year with a glorious record of three wins, eight losses and three ties. It came as no surprise to me that the Vikings traded for Quarterback Gary Cuozzo in the off season, and in a way I even welcomed the competition, although it never really developed. Off the field, Gary and I became roommates and good friends, and in training he ran into some injury problems that kept him from taking the starting job away from me.