As a youngster that was brought up in Brooklyn and Point Lookout in the New York/Long Island area, I was predictably, a Giants fan but there were some teams I had a fondness for primarily because they were usually terrible. A sucker for the underdog, I was actually thrilled when Lipscomb was traded to the downtrodden Steelers for the 1961 season, an organization known for beating the stuffings out of opponents but rarely winning meaningful games. In Pop Warner League football games I tried to emulate the smallish fullback Tom “The Bomb” Tracy, thought Bobby Layne was the toughest quarterback in the game, and was quick to see that Ernie Stautner, despite the Steelers losing records, was an absolutely great player. As a voracious reader I had gone through the November 12, 1960 Saturday Evening Post magazine article about Lipscomb numerous times. I loved to read but kept coming back to this specific article because I couldn’t believe that someone as fierce and large as Lipscomb, muscular and seemingly devoid of body fat unlike most of the gridders of similar size, would be afraid of anything. Yet, the title of that article, “I’m Still Scared,” spoke volumes about the emotional scars he carried. As an eleven year old living in a Detroit rooming house with his mother he watched her leave for work and was informed shortly after her departure that a male acquaintance had stabbed her forty-seven times at the bus stop. Raised from that point on by his maternal grandfather, he described what surely was a great deal of physical abuse. He wrote that his grandfather “did the best he knew how. But for some reason it was always hard for us to talk together. Instead of telling me what I was doing wrong and how to correct it, my grandfather would holler and whip me.” Gene was a star football player at Miller High School and held a number of “adult type” of jobs while attending high school, including a graveyard shift at a steel mill prior to going to his high school classes. Suspended from high school sports after his junior season for accepting payment to participate in a summer baseball league, Lipscomb dropped out of school, worked full time, and ran with a crowd of older “hustlers” who introduced him to alcohol, pool, and the temptations of the street.  Married to a twenty-five year old woman when he was eighteen, the union ended in divorce and he joined the Marines. Gene played a highly respected level of football and played it well at Camp Pendleton, well enough for the Rams to sign him upon his discharge and actually play him after joining the team with two games left in the 1953 season. Relatively inexperienced, rough, and without technique, he was invited to camp for 1954 and made the squad but for the next few years, was dependent upon his size, speed, and strength to survive on the field. He earned the nickname “Fifteen Yard Daddy” for all of the penalties he incurred for unnecessary roughness, believing that if he could physically beat his man down, his lack of technique would not be a factor.  

Traded to the improving Colts in 1956, Big Daddy quickly learned technique from a few players who can be considered the best in the pro game’s long history. Hall Of Famers Gino Marchetti and Art Donovan took Lipscomb under their wing and he developed into an All Pro performer. It was noted by a number of the Colts that though listed at 265 to 285 pounds, Big Daddy’s true weight was actually closer to 320 pounds and he never looked sloppy or out of condition. Yet, Lipscomb’s many lifelong insecurities remained and it was obvious to those around him that he was extremely troubled by the emotional abuse caused by his outstanding size relative to others, his lack of education and poor academic skills, the horrific death of his mother, and the indignities cast upon him as an African-American as was typical for that era. His Rams teammates had left scars as they had continually chided him for his “stupidity,” absence of any collegiate experience, and penchant for drawing penalties. Lipscomb at times referred to his attendance