Pinned by a Pro
My Afternoon with Goliath
I was recently listening to a comedian while driving when he started talking about being on stage with a live bear during a show in Vegas. It’s funny how a single joke can pull a memory from fifty years ago right into the front seat with you. It made me think back to my twenties, when I was playing for the Philadelphia Eagles and was asked to do something that makes a 300-pound offensive lineman look like a breeze: wrestle a bear at the Union League.
It was an unusual request, but at 6’2” and 240 pounds of NFL muscle, I thought, why not? This could be fun! Victor the Wrestling Bear was a celebrity back then. He toured the country with his trainer, Tuffy Truesdell, who reportedly had said that Victor had pinned over 15,000 men by this time in his career. I wasn’t the only one from the league brave (or crazy) enough to try. Over the years, other NFL legends stepped into the ring with Victor, including my fellow Eagle, Vince Papale, who famously walked away from his match with six stitches. Even Rod Marinelli, before his long coaching career, once managed to get Victor on his back for a few seconds, though the trainer quickly called it a “draw” rather than a loss for the bear. Dick Butkus and Jim LeClair refused the challenge.
It was February 1974. I was twenty-three, in the middle of off-season training, feeling invincible, when I got a call to appear at a father-son banquet at the Union League of Philadelphia. The legendary “Voice of the Flyers” Gene Hart was slated to speak. During the event, the League President asked if we would participate in a “show of sportsmanship” by wrestling the guest of honor: Victor the Wrestling Bear. Gene immediately said, “No way!” But being young and always up for a challenge, I figured I could hold my own with a 350-pound bench press.
The ballroom was packed. Victor entered on a leash, muzzled and massive. To warm up the crowd, Tuffy called for a “volunteer Dad.” A brave father stepped up, but seconds later, he cried out, “Victor bit me!” as blood trickled down his hand. It was just a small nick from the edge of the muzzle, but the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Then, it was my turn. As I stepped into the ring, Victor rose to his feet, waving his huge paws near my face. I took a deep breath, confident I could stand my ground. But in seconds, Victor swatted me away like a fly. I landed hard on my backside. Then came the “hug.” Tuffy told me to wrap my arms around Victor’s neck. The moment I did, the bear stood up, flipped me onto my back, and pinned me with an enormous paw on my chest, roaring in victory. As the declared loser, I had to pay the “prize.” Tuffy took off the muzzle and had me hold a 12-inch beef jerky stick between my teeth. As Victor grabbed the treat, he unfurled the longest tongue I’d ever seen and licked my entire face in one big, sandpaper stroke. His breath was so strong, it nearly knocked me out!
As I stood there, brushing the dust off my clothes, the room erupted into a standing ovation. In that moment, I realized something important. In the Bible, David defeated Goliath because he played to his own strengths—his speed and his sling—rather than trying to fight the giant on the giant’s terms. That day, I was the one trying to out-muscle a giant. I had the NFL pedigree and the strength, but I was playing a “strength game” against 650 pounds of nature. I learned that true courage isn’t about being the strongest person in the room; it’s about having the heart to step into the ring when the odds are stacked against you, and the humility to laugh at yourself when you end up pinned to the floor. Sometimes, the “Goliath” in our lives is there to remind us that while we might get knocked down, it’s the willingness to get back up and face the crowd that makes the champion
