Originally, Cornerback: Semi-colon a part of the title.
In the corner on the back. Get it?
A rare football piece. From a ‘special edition” of The Nike Times (Vol 1, Number 8) October 14, 1983. – JDW
December 23, 1980. The first-round playoff game against the Oilers. Houston has the ball. Third and 20 yards to go for a first down.
Lester Hayes rolls the film in his mind.
“I’m in man-to-man coverage on Mike Renfro. As they come out of the huddle, I am thinking about Stabler. I am on his right and he is a left-handed passer. I’m thinking, as Renfro comes to the line, it will be tougher for the Snake to throw across his body.
“Renfro lines up wide, and I’m honing in on him. My number-one priority is to eliminate each and every counter-productive and intangible thought from my mind and just think about Renfro. The ball is snapped. I do nothing but hone in on Renfro. He’s coming at me, I begin to backpedal. A second goes by. I remember watching films of Renfro. I know him so well I’m like his shadow. He begins to take four or five quick choppy steps. I have seen those choppy steps before. Every time he runs an ‘out’ pattern, he gives those short, choppy steps. Another second goes by and I get another familiar sign from him. He is getting ready to break.
“I’m thinking if Stabler does throw the out pattern, it’s going to take the ball a little longer to get there. Now I am certain Renfro is running his comeback pattern. I know where he is going. I keep position on him. Nearly four seconds have gone by, I am hoping he is the primary receiver because I know his pattern. I’m hoping to God that Stabler throws it. Renfro breaks. A split-second goes by. His eyes light up; the ball is in the air. All receivers’ eyes light up when the ball is in the air. His eyes are as bright as the lights on O’Dell Boulevard.”
Or as bright as Hayes’ own, on a half dozen Nike billboards currently appearing in the Los Angeles area.
Armed with such prescience and confidence, Hayes darted in front of Renfro, claimed the pass for himself and rambled twenty yards for the score. It was his second interception and the final touchdown. The Raiders were safely on their way to the next round And Hayes was one step closer to Canton, Ohio, and the NFL Hall of Fame.
The eyes, large white orbs of intensity, stare out of te blackness of his face, his jersey, and, in the minds of many of the NFL’s ball carriers, his very soul. Lester Hayes wears the black and silver of the Los Angeles (nee Oakland) Raiders like some slashing swift sword of doom.
The eyes are staring, almost fixated, across the line of scrimmage. Hayes is crouched, evenly balanced on legs widely splayed. His arms and one hand are heavily taped for either defensive or offensive purposes. His fingertips appear to be weeding the Astroturf, as his hands flutter nervously with anticipation.
His lucky trademark towel hangs from his waist. It is taped carefully, exactly seven times. Not six, or eight. Only seven, because Hayes is a very superstitious man. Long white socks disappear into similarly colored Nike shoes. A heavy gold chain hangs from his neck with a charm “37” – his uniform number – dangling.
Hayes’ face is outlined by his white chin strap. Mind you, this is not just any ordinary, regular, team-issue chin strap. Like Hayes, it is special. He bought the strap for a buck in 1967 (when a dollar was a dollar) and he has worn it ever since.
“It will not break,” says Hayes, who won’t either. “It has The Force within it. Positive vibrations are behind The Force. I believe in things like that.” Call it voodoo football.
The face guard frames an intelligent countenance but the helmet says more about Lester Hayes and his style of play than any other part of his equipment. The Raiders’ symbol, if you will, is a buccaneer, a privateer, a pirate. Put the ball in the air and Hayes behaves like the Scourge of The Seas happening upon a slow sailing vessel riding low with a bellyfull of bullion. That’s gold, not soup. As good as Hayes is, when a quarterback puts the ball in the air, Lester becomes the secondary receiver.
You see three trademarks when you look at Lester Hayes at work. Of course, you see the Raiders’ team logo and then there are Lester’s Nikes. But, most importantly, there is the name of his helmet. Riddell.
Lester Hayes is currently the game’s leading exponent of the Riddell Technique. The R.T. is a simple matter, requiring only that, when you make a tackle, the ballcarrier arises – if he can – Riddell logo embedded in his chest.
Hayes does not always tackle. Sometimes he tattoos.
“Pat Thomas (a recent defensive superstar) would literally embed that helmet in a receiver’s chest,” Hayes explains, with obvious admiration. “The helmet is effective for another reason. Receivers are taught to break the force of a defensive back’s hand thrust by coming up with their fists or down with them. But there’s no way possible for a receiver to break the thrust of a head butt.”
“Sometimes, I’ll use my hands just to vary it a little. But, the whole idea is to getan upward thrust from my legs and hips,” Hayes continues. “That’s where my power comes from. It’s an uncoiling motion. That why I start off low, in a crouch.”
Lester Hayes’ job is cornerback for one of National Football League’s most feared defenses. It is a position he was semingly born to.
It doesn’t happen often. In 1980 Hayes interecepted thirteen (13) passes in the regular season and another six (6) in the playoffs. Most cornerbacks won’t have nineteen (19) interceptions in an entire career.
Six games into the 1983 season, the Los Angeles Raiders have five victories. They are the only team in the NFL wheich has surrendered less than 100 points. Lester Hayes – crouching, backpedaling, Riddeling – is perhaps on his way to the Super Bowl.
If he goes, he is taking the Raiders with him.
Epilogue. He did take them to the Super Bowl. The Raiders defeated the Redskins by the score of 38–9. The Raiders’ 38 points scored and 29-point margin of victory broke Super Bowl records
de Wikipedia. Hayes was commonly referred to as “the Judge” and also as “Lester the Molester” because of his bump and run coverage. He was also known for using Stickum before it was banned in 1981 by a rule bearing his name. A big Star Wars fan, during pregame interviews for Super Bowl XVIII, he declared himself the “only true Jedi” in the NFL. His best performance was probably in Super Bowl XVIII. He had only one tackle, but that was because he so effectively covered Charlie Brown and Art Monk that Joe Theismann hardly threw to the left side of the field. Hayes’ turf.
And he’s not in the NFL Hall of Fame. Where he truly belongs. His turf.
Don’t be a hater ’cause he was a hitter.
Post-epilogue. http://www.sportsonearth.com/article/136707920/1970s-raiders-lester-hayes-ken-stabler