Numbers Game

Ten' years ago, asking "Who's number 12?" would probably get you the answer. "On what team?" Because at that time, almost every premiere quarterback in football wore that number on his jersey.

Think about it. What NFL, quarterback didn't wear 12? Think of Staunch, Namath, Griese, Bradshaw and Stabler. All future Hall of Famers, right?

Oh, sure, there were the Fran Tarkentons, the Johnny Unitases, the Sonny Jurgensens, who begged to be different and wore unique numbers. But even lesser quarterbacks wore the number 12 as a mark of achievement.

The number 12 meant you were number one. It turned ordinary quarterbacks into field generals, into team captains, into leaders. John Brodie and Joe Ferguson were two of the dogs who were wagged by the tail called number 12.

But now, it I ask you who number 12 is, you can't think of too many if even one. Go ahead Try to name one

Countdown

Marc Wilson wears number 6 Joe Theismann wear' Archie Manning used to wear number 8, now he wears number 4. Jim McMahon wears 9. Steve Bartkowski wears 10. Phil Simms and Danny White both wear number 11.

League-leading passer Dan Marino wears 13, of all numbers. Dan Fouts, San Diego's Air Launch Commander, wears 14. St. Louis's Neil Lomax wears 15. Joe Montana, perhaps the best quarterback in the game today, wears the number 16. So does Jim Plunkett. Warren Moon of the Oilers wears a kicker's number. 1.

So where is number 12? Even in college, quarterbacks avoid the number like the plague. Doug Flutie, B.C.'s sure shot for the Heisman Trophy, doesn't even wear a quarterback's number. You'd think he was a tailback in his number 22.

Miami's standout quarterback Bernie Kosar, only a sophomore, has already taken a liking to the number 20. Harvard's Brian White is a 7 fancier, but once wore number 9.

What does all this mean? Well, maybe nothing. But maybe it's directly attributable to the NFL's mediocrity. Nobody ever talked about mediocrity or parity in the NFL when people were wearing number 12 on their backs. Roger Staubach and Terry Bradshaw met in the Super Bowl twice in four years. They weren't mediocre.

The same cannot be said for the 12's of today. They are no longer the players that the youth of America looks up to.

It used to be that when you went to the local sporting goods store to buy a football shirt and you liked to catch passes in neighborhood games, you bought one with the number 88. If you liked to throw them, you bought one with the number 12.

But today, it's hard to picture a kid walking into Brine's and asking for a jersey with Lynn Dickey's number on it. Dickey's never even been to a Hula Bowl, much less a Super Bowl.

Today's youth will never know what it's like to wear the number 12 and feel like the best player on the team. Now number 12 is just another guy. At Harvard, the number 12 belongs to Steve Anderson, a fine defensive end (of all positions) but not a quarterback.

They won't see the number 12 being worn in Dallas, Miami, Pittsburgh or New York, either because the numbers will not likely be worn there again out of respect for the men who made them famous, or because the replacements for Messrs. Staubach, Bradshaw, Griese and Namath arrived on the scene while these greats were still occupying their jerseys.

But why not bring the number around again in Washington, St. Louis, Chicago, Atlanta, San Francisco and Los Angeles, where there hasn't been a number 12 in over a decade?

It might make the NFL a more exciting place.

It certainly couldn't hurt.