How many old time Saints fans remember Conrad Dobler when he was in New Orleans
Conrad Dobler And His Wife Joy
Conrad Dobler played in the NFL for the St. Louis Cardinals. Ed Agner gives a great account of his career, and here's an excerpt:
So anyway, Dobler was one of football's really great accidents. He may or may not have been what his press-clippings called him, but he was certainly shrewd in his ability to ride his on the field reputation into a few decent off the field payday bonanzas in the commercial industry. And Dobler's magical on the field reputation? The dirtiest player in the game. He even got a Sports Illustrated cover calling him exactly that. A biting, kicking, punching, gouging, cheating, cheap-shot artist of an offensive guard mainly for the 70's St. Louis Cardinals who, aside from the nasty reputation, was otherwise unexceptional.
And therein is the beauty of the Conrad Dobler accident - he really was nothing more than a solid offensive guard yet (yes, I know about his three Pro Bowls, but really, how hard is it to get in the Pro Bowl after the star players beg out?), because of his nasty reputation (this in an NFL that still celebrated outlaws and rogues, mind you), Dobler became a household name. Every Monday Night game would feature Howard laughing through some tale of Dobler setting fire to a school bus full of children. Every NFL pre-game show would have some sort of funny bit on how Dobler picked a fight with an invalid. Every magazine and newspaper would run some of goofy story on Dobler's satanic rituals. And all this as a slightly-better-than-average offensive guard whom no one would have otherwise known! Beautiful!
And along came the advertising companies! Conrad, shill these lawn jarts by impaling a kitten with them! Conrad, bust the Kool-Aid man into a bazillion pieces! Conrad, call Fonzie a wuss! Conrad! Conrad! Conrad! Ahh, the 70's!
After his playing days were over, Dobler got his big break in a Miller Lite commercial:
After 10 years as a villainous but essentially faceless offensive lineman in the NFL, Conrad Dobler retired from football and was billed on a 1987 Miller Lite TV commercial as ''Famous Troublemaker.'' His life changed instantly. ''In all of my years in the NFL,'' he writes in his upcoming book, They Call Me Dirty, ''a visit to my hometown of Twentynine Palms, Calif., barely generated enthusiasm among my own family, let alone strangers. But when I visited three months after 'Famous Troublemaker' came out, everyone who saw me wanted an autograph. Men bought me beers. Women offered me sexual favors. . . . It's especially gratifying to be walking down the street or sitting in a restaurant and have people yell 'Tastes great!' so I can yell back 'Less filling!' ''
And he told a great story in the November 2000 issue of Esquire magazine:
One game, I knocked the crap out of Merlin Olsen. If you wanted to see it on instant replay, you had to go to the kitchen because I knocked him so far out of the TV frame. After the game, he says, "One of these days, someone's going to break Dobler's neck, and I'm not going to send any flowers." What happens? He gets the $500,000 FTD commercial, and I don't get s**t. He goes to the Pro Bowl fourteen times. He's in the Hall of Fame. He's probably got more money than God. When he was doing Father Murphy on NBC, he had a graveyard scene. One of the tombs said: CONRAD DOBLER. GONE, BUT NOT FORGIVEN. It's been twenty years since I played him, and I'm still on his Fork*ing mind. And I like that.
And then four years ago, everything changed:
July 4, 2001, started out like any other holiday for the Dobler family of Leawood.
They had friends over, and Joy Dobler's husband, Conrad, was grilling dinner. But at 7 p.m. that night, all of their lives changed.
Joy Dobler was climbing into a hammock in the family's back yard when she fell, landing on her head. She heard and felt the snap and knew instinctively her neck was broken. She couldn't move her legs. Later she would learn she was a quadriplegic.
July 4, 2001, was the day Dobler lost her independence.
Since that day Conrad has been taking care of Joy. It's a tough road:
The Buffalo Bills have offered to help Conrad Dobler, a Bills and St. Louis Cardinals offensive lineman in the 1970s, with his wife's medical bills. Dobler's wife, Joy, is paralyzed from the neck down after a fall in 2001. Her medical expenses have topped $500,000, forcing the Doblers to put their home near Kansas City, Mo., up for sale.
I wasn't able to find a site for donations, but when I do I'll let you know. Maybe all the Packer / Wisconsin bloggers could ask Miller Brewing in Milwaukee to pitch in too. Until then, you may want to keep Conrad and Joy and their family in your prayers, eh?
UPDATE, 2/11/2007 from Dan O'Neill:
Into this tragic story rides an unlikely knight. One day the phone rang at Dobler's home in Leawood, Kan. On the other end was Glenn Cohen, a lawyer for Phil Mickelson. Cohen informed Dobler that his client had become aware of the situation and wanted to help by paying for his daughter's college education.
Holli Dobler is now a sophomore at Miami University in Ohio. It's an expensive ticket, but it is the school of her choice, a school she is able to attend because of Mickelson's generosity. Conrad Dobler has never met Phil Mickelson, never even talked to him.
"I asked his lawyer, 'Why is he doing this? I don't even know Phil,' " Dobler said. "He said, 'Because he can.'
"You know, I was raised a Catholic and everyone used to say there is an angel someplace looking out after you. You never take it seriously and then something like this happens. It forces you to have a different perspective." ...
Holli Dobler takes nothing for granted. She works as a waitress between her 19 hours of classes. She maintains a 3.8 grade-point average and e-mails Mickelson regular reports on her progress.
Recently, Glenn Cohen called again. Mickelson has invited the Doblers to be guests at The Memorial Tournament in May and asked Holli to walk the course with him during practice rounds. It will be an opportunity for the Doblers to say thanks, and Conrad isn't sure he'll be able to get the words out.
"I don't know if I can do it without getting choked up," he said. "You ask yourself, 'Why me?' There are a lot of other people who need help. My wife spends a lot of time raising money for spinal cord injuries, but we never felt we'd be on the receiving end. He's a remarkable person."
Or maybe he's more than that. Maybe he's an angel.Holli Dobler takes nothing for granted. She works as a waitress between her 19 hours of classes. She maintains a 3.8 grade-point average and e-mails Mickelson regular reports on her progress.
Recently, Glenn Cohen called again. Mickelson has invited the Doblers to be guests at The Memorial Tournament in May and asked Holli to walk the course with him during practice rounds. It will be an opportunity for the Doblers to say thanks, and Conrad isn't sure he'll be able to get the words out.
"I don't know if I can do it without getting choked up," he said. "You ask yourself, 'Why me?' There are a lot of other people who need help. My wife spends a lot of time raising money for spinal cord injuries, but we never felt we'd be on the receiving end. He's a remarkable person."
Or maybe he's more than that. Maybe he's an angel.
Conrad Dobler And His Wife Joy
Conrad Dobler played in the NFL for the St. Louis Cardinals. Ed Agner gives a great account of his career, and here's an excerpt:
So anyway, Dobler was one of football's really great accidents. He may or may not have been what his press-clippings called him, but he was certainly shrewd in his ability to ride his on the field reputation into a few decent off the field payday bonanzas in the commercial industry. And Dobler's magical on the field reputation? The dirtiest player in the game. He even got a Sports Illustrated cover calling him exactly that. A biting, kicking, punching, gouging, cheating, cheap-shot artist of an offensive guard mainly for the 70's St. Louis Cardinals who, aside from the nasty reputation, was otherwise unexceptional.
And therein is the beauty of the Conrad Dobler accident - he really was nothing more than a solid offensive guard yet (yes, I know about his three Pro Bowls, but really, how hard is it to get in the Pro Bowl after the star players beg out?), because of his nasty reputation (this in an NFL that still celebrated outlaws and rogues, mind you), Dobler became a household name. Every Monday Night game would feature Howard laughing through some tale of Dobler setting fire to a school bus full of children. Every NFL pre-game show would have some sort of funny bit on how Dobler picked a fight with an invalid. Every magazine and newspaper would run some of goofy story on Dobler's satanic rituals. And all this as a slightly-better-than-average offensive guard whom no one would have otherwise known! Beautiful!
And along came the advertising companies! Conrad, shill these lawn jarts by impaling a kitten with them! Conrad, bust the Kool-Aid man into a bazillion pieces! Conrad, call Fonzie a wuss! Conrad! Conrad! Conrad! Ahh, the 70's!
After his playing days were over, Dobler got his big break in a Miller Lite commercial:
After 10 years as a villainous but essentially faceless offensive lineman in the NFL, Conrad Dobler retired from football and was billed on a 1987 Miller Lite TV commercial as ''Famous Troublemaker.'' His life changed instantly. ''In all of my years in the NFL,'' he writes in his upcoming book, They Call Me Dirty, ''a visit to my hometown of Twentynine Palms, Calif., barely generated enthusiasm among my own family, let alone strangers. But when I visited three months after 'Famous Troublemaker' came out, everyone who saw me wanted an autograph. Men bought me beers. Women offered me sexual favors. . . . It's especially gratifying to be walking down the street or sitting in a restaurant and have people yell 'Tastes great!' so I can yell back 'Less filling!' ''
And he told a great story in the November 2000 issue of Esquire magazine:
One game, I knocked the crap out of Merlin Olsen. If you wanted to see it on instant replay, you had to go to the kitchen because I knocked him so far out of the TV frame. After the game, he says, "One of these days, someone's going to break Dobler's neck, and I'm not going to send any flowers." What happens? He gets the $500,000 FTD commercial, and I don't get s**t. He goes to the Pro Bowl fourteen times. He's in the Hall of Fame. He's probably got more money than God. When he was doing Father Murphy on NBC, he had a graveyard scene. One of the tombs said: CONRAD DOBLER. GONE, BUT NOT FORGIVEN. It's been twenty years since I played him, and I'm still on his Fork*ing mind. And I like that.
And then four years ago, everything changed:
July 4, 2001, started out like any other holiday for the Dobler family of Leawood.
They had friends over, and Joy Dobler's husband, Conrad, was grilling dinner. But at 7 p.m. that night, all of their lives changed.
Joy Dobler was climbing into a hammock in the family's back yard when she fell, landing on her head. She heard and felt the snap and knew instinctively her neck was broken. She couldn't move her legs. Later she would learn she was a quadriplegic.
July 4, 2001, was the day Dobler lost her independence.
Since that day Conrad has been taking care of Joy. It's a tough road:
The Buffalo Bills have offered to help Conrad Dobler, a Bills and St. Louis Cardinals offensive lineman in the 1970s, with his wife's medical bills. Dobler's wife, Joy, is paralyzed from the neck down after a fall in 2001. Her medical expenses have topped $500,000, forcing the Doblers to put their home near Kansas City, Mo., up for sale.
I wasn't able to find a site for donations, but when I do I'll let you know. Maybe all the Packer / Wisconsin bloggers could ask Miller Brewing in Milwaukee to pitch in too. Until then, you may want to keep Conrad and Joy and their family in your prayers, eh?
UPDATE, 2/11/2007 from Dan O'Neill:
Into this tragic story rides an unlikely knight. One day the phone rang at Dobler's home in Leawood, Kan. On the other end was Glenn Cohen, a lawyer for Phil Mickelson. Cohen informed Dobler that his client had become aware of the situation and wanted to help by paying for his daughter's college education.
Holli Dobler is now a sophomore at Miami University in Ohio. It's an expensive ticket, but it is the school of her choice, a school she is able to attend because of Mickelson's generosity. Conrad Dobler has never met Phil Mickelson, never even talked to him.
"I asked his lawyer, 'Why is he doing this? I don't even know Phil,' " Dobler said. "He said, 'Because he can.'
"You know, I was raised a Catholic and everyone used to say there is an angel someplace looking out after you. You never take it seriously and then something like this happens. It forces you to have a different perspective." ...
Holli Dobler takes nothing for granted. She works as a waitress between her 19 hours of classes. She maintains a 3.8 grade-point average and e-mails Mickelson regular reports on her progress.
Recently, Glenn Cohen called again. Mickelson has invited the Doblers to be guests at The Memorial Tournament in May and asked Holli to walk the course with him during practice rounds. It will be an opportunity for the Doblers to say thanks, and Conrad isn't sure he'll be able to get the words out.
"I don't know if I can do it without getting choked up," he said. "You ask yourself, 'Why me?' There are a lot of other people who need help. My wife spends a lot of time raising money for spinal cord injuries, but we never felt we'd be on the receiving end. He's a remarkable person."
Or maybe he's more than that. Maybe he's an angel.Holli Dobler takes nothing for granted. She works as a waitress between her 19 hours of classes. She maintains a 3.8 grade-point average and e-mails Mickelson regular reports on her progress.
Recently, Glenn Cohen called again. Mickelson has invited the Doblers to be guests at The Memorial Tournament in May and asked Holli to walk the course with him during practice rounds. It will be an opportunity for the Doblers to say thanks, and Conrad isn't sure he'll be able to get the words out.
"I don't know if I can do it without getting choked up," he said. "You ask yourself, 'Why me?' There are a lot of other people who need help. My wife spends a lot of time raising money for spinal cord injuries, but we never felt we'd be on the receiving end. He's a remarkable person."
Or maybe he's more than that. Maybe he's an angel.