Politicians love to pass resolutions. It keeps them busy and out of trouble. Most of the resolutions are worthy but full of flowery language and have no earth-shaking impact.
That will almost surely be the case again this week in Sacramento. State Sen. Dave Cortese of San Jose plans to introduce a resolution supporting former NFL quarterback Jim Plunkett’s candidacy for the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Plunkett, the South Bay native and former Stanford quarterback, is among 31 finalists in the hall’s “Seniors” category. In early December, a Blue Ribbon Committee will trim the list to nine. In February, three of the nine “Seniors” will be elected to the hall along with more recent players.
I am not involved in that process. But I have been a Hall of Fame voter for other sports. And I can testify that no resolution from any state senator ever influenced my thinking. Or the thinking of any other voter I know. What could be Cortese’s motivation?
“Our family’s house was just a short distance from James Lick High School in San Jose, where Jim played high school football,” Cortese explained in a phone call. “I’m proud to have grown up in the same neighborhoods where he was raised.”
So, it’s personal. And a fine gesture. But to be blunt, Plunkett’s selection faces very long odds. Other candidates have thicker curriculum vitaes. They threw for more yards and touchdowns, earned more honors. Plunkett never made a Pro Bowl team. He had a .500 record as a starting quarterback.
Plunkett’s best resume entry? He is one of just 13 quarterbacks to win two or more Super Bowls — and of the 10 who are eligible for Hall of Fame consideration all have been inducted. Except for Plunkett, the MVP of Super Bowl XV with the Raiders.
Is that enough? Probably not. But Cortese has built an intriguing additional case, based on Plunkett’s massively influential role helping the NFL become today North America’s most widely followed professional sport. I’m on board with that case, even if it technically violates a voting dictum.
Hall of Fame selection members are instructed to consider “only on-the-field accomplishments” for candidates. Plunkett’s Heisman Trophy at Stanford can’t be a factor. Nor can his inspiring life story of growing up as the son of two blind parents, working part-time jobs while excelling at James Lick to earn his college scholarship.
But guess what? That same “only-on-the-field” standard was in effect in 2006 when hall voters decided whether to induct John Madden as a coach. In Oakland for 10 seasons, he did win 112 games and a Super Bowl. But other coaches who are not in the hall achieved more — including former 49ers coach George Seifert, who won 124 games and two Super Bowls.
Voters were supposed to ignore Madden’s brilliant television work and how he helped create a video game that built NFL interest among millions of young fans. But did they? Of course not. The voters essentially inducted John Madden for being the one and only John Madden, honoring all his contributions.
Likewise, Jim Plunkett should be inducted for being the one and only Jim Plunkett. He entered the NFL when Latino sports fans were generally more interested in soccer or baseball. A typical NFL crowd in the 1960s through the early 1970s was pretty much monochromatic, the milky opposite of diverse.
Take a photo of an NFL crowd today — particularly in California, Texas, Arizona and Florida — and you will notice Latino and Hispanic faces of all sorts. A recent Nielsen survey revealed that Latinos follow the NFL more intensely than any other sport — and are more passionate about the NFL than American sports fans in general.
This didn’t happen overnight. In 1971, Plunkett became the first Mexican-American player selected as an NFL overall No. 1 draft pick. This ramped up the interest of Latino fans, especially when Plunkett joined the Raiders in 1979 and won those Super Bowl titles, one in Oakland and one after the franchise moved to Los Angeles. The Latino NFL fan base up and down the state exploded into a sea of Raiders jerseys at the mall, the beach and neighborhood barbecues. Not to mention the stadiums.
During Plunkett’s era, he formed a Hispanic NFL troika with his Raiders coach, Tom Flores, and Cincinnati lineman Anthony Munoz. Flores and Munoz are already in the Hall of Fame. But Plunkett was the most visible and identifiable personality of the three.
The cultural motor of pro football fandom shifted gears when Plunkett planted the flag as the NFL’s first Latino Super Bowl champion quarterback. There are Raider fans today who became Raider fans because their dads and grandfathers became Raider fans because of Plunkett. He deserves immense credit for making the NFL an ethnically ecumenical fan soup.
In Sacramento, Cortese often hears his peers philosophize about “a California for all.” He knows that pro football also wants to cast as wide a fan net as possible.
“If you want an NFL for all, you can’t ignore the winners and champions who created that for you,” Cortese said. “That should be the closing argument.”
Right. But he still intends to introduce the resolution with the flowery language. Please forgive him.
Mark Purdy is a former sports columnist for The Mercury News.
