Baugh’s stories reflect a life lived to fullest

Baugh’s stories reflect a life lived to fullest
December 19
Houston Chronicle columnist John McClain
"When I learned that Slingin’ Sammy Baugh had died Wednesday, I reminisced about the most entertaining night of my life.

In July of 1998, I spent the night with Baugh at his ranch in West Texas. What a trip down memory lane.

Samuel Adrian Baugh, an All-American at TCU and Washington’s first-round pick in 1937, was a storehouse of sports and entertainment knowledge.

Green Bay receiver Don Hutson had died in June of 1997, leaving Baugh as the last surviving member of the original, 17-member class of the Pro Football Hall of Fame that was inducted in 1963.

I recruited Baugh’s friend, Cowboy Bill Lamza Jr., to set up the interview with Baugh at his ranch outside Rotan, an 8,000-acre spread at the base of Double Mountain.

Baugh, who got his nickname from a Fort Worth sportswriter because of the way he threw a baseball from third to first, was a cussing, golfing, domino-playing legend whose extraordinary career included experiences with more memorable characters than Benjamin Button and Forrest Gump combined.

Baugh was 84 when Lamza introduced me to him on the porch of his ranch house. I turned on the tape recorder and listened to Baugh’s stories while he and Lamza played dominoes for hours.

Set 13 league records

Baugh’s career in the NFL has been well-documented. In 2007, the NFL Network voted him as the most versatile player in history. He was an outstanding quarterback, safety and punter during a 16-year career with the Redskins that ended after the 1952 season.

When Baugh retired, he owned 13 NFL records.

At one point, Baugh showed me around his house. He had a small trophy case. I asked him which award he valued most. He opened the door, reached into the back and pulled out a certificate for his first hole-in-one.

Every weekday, Baugh got in his car and drove 20 miles to Sweetwater to play golf. On weekends, he stayed home to watch football and golf. He loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He ate them almost every day.

Fans would send items for him to sign. They’d be addressed to Slingin Sammy Baugh, Rotan, Texas — no address and no zip code. Just about everybody in West Texas knew where he resided because he’d owned the ranch since 1941.

Every two weeks, his daughter-in-law would come to his house and line up the items for him to sign. He signed “Sam Baugh” because it was quicker. She made sure every item was signed and returned to sender.

No matter how hard the Hall of Fame tried to get him to return to Canton or how many award banquets he was invited to, Baugh never went anywhere unless he could return home and sleep in his bed every night. "
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