I was thinking that night about Elvis

Day that he died. Day that he died.

—“Elvis Presley Blues,” sung by Jimmy Buffett

 

Approximately nobody missed the news flash on Aug. 16, 1977, that Elvis had died. Think of this week’s response to Aretha Franklin’s death, but with a heavier blow because Elvis was only 42, almost half Franklin’s age. So on that day, exactly 41 years earlier, the main topic of conversation in the New York Giants’ lockerroom at their Pleasantville, N.Y., summer training camp wasn’t the least bit unusual.

It’s just that it was slightly more personal than might have been expected. A thousand miles from Graceland, the connection went beyond the fact that Elvis had claimed football to be his second most passionate interest, after music. Specifically, he had been a very public fan of the short-lived World Football League franchise in his Memphis hometown. And no fewer than 11 members of the 1977 Giants—eight players and three coaches, including head coach John McVay—were refugees from the recently defunct Memphis Southmen.

If I had been a more alert journalist, I would have offered the bosses at Newsday an instant sidebar on the Giants’ thoughts about their close encounters with the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Instead, I filed a not-so-earthshattering piece on how the Giants coaches were switching fourth-year pro Ray Rhodes from wide receiver to defensive back. (“Yeh, I’m a cornerback,” Rhodes said, “but I’m giving no interviews. I got nothing to say.”)

Certainly Rhodes, who wound up playing four more years and coaching another 30 in the NFL, was all shook up that day. But the real story was Elvis and, by extension, the former Memphis players who shared some thoughts about the man.

They were aware that Elvis had been in the building, Memphis’ Liberty Bowl, with 30,121 other spectators for the Southmen’s debut on July 10, 1974. It was reported that Elvis sat with country singer Charlie Rich, and that when Rich returned to his seat after singing the national anthem, Elvis observed, “That’s a tough song to sing, ain’t it?”

Memphis was a good team, winning 17 of 21 games in 1974 and had a 7-4 record the next year when the league folded mid-season. Which led to the migration North, from Memphis to the Giants, by running backs Larry Csonka and Willie Spencer, receivers Ed Marshall and Gary Shirk, center Ralph Hill, linebacker Frank Marion, guard Ron Mikolajczyk and defensive back Larry Mallory—along with McVay and his assistants Jay Fry and Bob Gibson.

Pro football never returned to Memphis despite an effort by Elvis’ foundation in the early 1990s, long after his death, for a franchise to be named the Hound Dogs. What was left behind was “an Elvis-owned and –used WFL football” given to him by Southmen owner John Bassett and offered at auction at Graceland during the annual Elvis Week in 2017.

According to a letter of authenticity from Elvis’ bodyguard Sonny West, who died months before that auction, “Elvis used this football on the grounds of Graceland in the ’70s….

“Elvis and some of us guys went to some of the [Southmen] home games as a guest of the owner and sat in his box. Elvis and John became friends quickly. John got the ball and gave it to Elvis. I’m sure it was a game ball at one time but had passed the newness of that stage and became a practice ball for the team. Elvis and I passed the ball a few times in the backyard of Graceland.”

Likely, then, the future Giants Csonka, Marshall, Shirk, Spencer and the others had handled that ball at some point in practice. The Elvis ball. I wish I’d asked a few more questions in 1977 about such small degrees of separation.

But, now, full circle, thinking about the day that Aretha Franklin—born in Memphis, by the way—died. Among the countless tributes of respect for her influence and eclectic musical gifts was a recollection of her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner before a 2016 Thanksgiving Day game between the Detroit Lions and Minnesota Vikings. Passionate, four-and-a-half minutes long, with gospel phrasing and ad-libs—“It is the land of the free,” she threw in—it surely would have moved Elvis to marvel, “That’s a tough song to sing that way, ain’t it?”