Cliff Branch was a different breed, for a position that always asks to look at me. He was always a different kind of cat, and the DBs were always looking at his back. While he is raced for a Lamonica or Snake ball, which could never be thrown too tall.
To this former track star, football was his speedway and he was the car. Going against the greats like Brown and Haynes in practice, he made defenses stretch like elastic. He would call Biletnikoff his dad because of his guidance. But Raider fans know who was the real bad ass. Not to say Fred shouldn’t be a Hall of Famer, but having Branch on the other side was a real life saver.
One of only six to be a thrice Silver and Black Super Bowl winner, Branch was the constant and professional Raider. And although Antonio Brown might be the new bell cow, the sky is limited to Branch’s shadow. And one foot is now scheduled for an exam, the other was caught on the Steeler door jam.
He was a reluctant superstar receiver who let his play do the talking and put away the tendencies of others to do the mocking. Like Terrell Owens and his Sharpee and all the other divas who ask to look at me. Saying they are always wide open, but its that’s just their big pie hole talking. While Cliff would prefer hauling a 99 yarder instead of being a celebrity martyr.
So today I think and remember Cliff Branch, a man of many TDs and not too much dance. A winner for the Silver and Black, RIP to one that never gave no slack.