Jack Tatum

Jack Tatum, the storied Oakland Raiders safety best known for landing the hit that paralyzed New England receiver Darryl Stingley, has died. He was 61. Tatum, among the most feared and respected NFL players of his era, died of a heart attack Tuesday morning in an Oakland hospital. He had been waiting for a kidney transplant. Tatum was a sledgehammer in Oakland's "Soul Patrol" secondary of the 1970s that also included safety George Atkinson, cornerback Skip Thomas and Hall of Fame cornerback Willie Brown.

Jack Tatum, the storied Oakland Raiders safety best known for landing the hit that paralyzed New England receiver Darryl Stingley, has died. He was 61. Tatum, among the most feared and respected NFL players of his era, died of a heart attack Tuesday morning in an Oakland hospital. He had been waiting for a kidney transplant. Tatum was a sledgehammer in Oakland's "Soul Patrol" secondary of the 1970s that also included safety George Atkinson, cornerback Skip Thomas and Hall of Fame cornerback Willie Brown.

Any fool knows when you hit someone with your best shot and he is still able to think, then you're not a hitter. My idea of a good hit is when the victim wakes up on the sidelines with train whistles blowing in his head and wondering who he is and what ran over him. --Jack Tatum in "They Call Me Assassin." * He is on the phone, his voice weary, as if he hasn't slept well in years, maybe decades. "All these years I've been vilified, nobody will ever tell me what I did wrong," says Jack Tatum.

One Buckeye down, all Buckeyes down. That's how former Ohio State offensive lineman John Hicks explains the groundswell of support for his friend and Buckeye teammate Jack Tatum, who underwent amputation of his left leg this spring and might have lost his right one the same way if not for the love and backing of his friends.

He walked 18 holes in cowboy boots, a pair of Wrangler jeans and a western shirt, and he saw trouble in the fields. Jack Tatum, proprietor of the Tatum cattle and horse ranch, was watching one of his best calf-ropers have a very bad day. Tani Tatum, the boss' daughter, led the Los Coyotes LPGA Classic after one round and was a stroke off the lead after two. But Saturday afternoon, she couldn't have putted into a bucket.

After 18 years, Darryl Stingley was going to meet face-to-face with Jack Tatum, the man who ended his football career and put him in a wheelchair for life with a neck-high tackle. Then Stingley, the former New England Patriots wide receiver, was told that Tuesday's meeting with the former Raider defensive back was a publicity stunt, not a simple reconciliation.

Citadel linebacker Marc Buoniconti suffered a critical neck injury similar to one that paralyzed former Boston Patriot Darryl Stingley, officials in Johnson City, Tenn., said Sunday. Buoniconti, 19, son of former Miami Dolphin All-Pro linebacker Nick Buoniconti, was injured Saturday while tackling a runner during his team's 28-21 victory over East Tennessee State. "Marc's condition is being constantly monitored. He remains in the intensive care unit of the Johnson City Medical Center.

One Buckeye down, all Buckeyes down. That's how former Ohio State offensive lineman John Hicks explains the groundswell of support for his friend and Buckeye teammate Jack Tatum, who underwent amputation of his left leg this spring and might have lost his right one the same way if not for the love and backing of his friends.

S port has its problems. We have the solutions . . . Problem: The major league lockout enters its 28th day, with opening day all but gone and no end in sight, because neither side is willing to budge on the issue of arbitration. Solution: Arbitration. The players want to roll back the arbitration eligibility requirement to two years' big league experience. The owners want to keep it at three years. And Bo Jackson wanted $1.9 million and the Royals wanted to pay him $1 million.

To reward themselves after a rugged weekend of football, Marcus Allen and Frank Hawkins, the Raider running backs, sometimes like to get manicures. They have their fingernails trimmed, then emery-boarded, then painted various colors. In the old days, after football games, guys who played football for the Raiders would have had their heads manicured.

Any fool knows when you hit someone with your best shot and he is still able to think, then you're not a hitter. My idea of a good hit is when the victim wakes up on the sidelines with train whistles blowing in his head and wondering who he is and what ran over him. --Jack Tatum in "They Call Me Assassin." * He is on the phone, his voice weary, as if he hasn't slept well in years, maybe decades. "All these years I've been vilified, nobody will ever tell me what I did wrong," says Jack Tatum.

After 18 years, Darryl Stingley was going to meet face-to-face with Jack Tatum, the man who ended his football career and put him in a wheelchair for life with a neck-high tackle. Then Stingley, the former New England Patriots wide receiver, was told that Tuesday's meeting with the former Raider defensive back was a publicity stunt, not a simple reconciliation.

He walked 18 holes in cowboy boots, a pair of Wrangler jeans and a western shirt, and he saw trouble in the fields. Jack Tatum, proprietor of the Tatum cattle and horse ranch, was watching one of his best calf-ropers have a very bad day. Tani Tatum, the boss' daughter, led the Los Coyotes LPGA Classic after one round and was a stroke off the lead after two. But Saturday afternoon, she couldn't have putted into a bucket.

S port has its problems. We have the solutions . . . Problem: The major league lockout enters its 28th day, with opening day all but gone and no end in sight, because neither side is willing to budge on the issue of arbitration. Solution: Arbitration. The players want to roll back the arbitration eligibility requirement to two years' big league experience. The owners want to keep it at three years. And Bo Jackson wanted $1.9 million and the Royals wanted to pay him $1 million.

To reward themselves after a rugged weekend of football, Marcus Allen and Frank Hawkins, the Raider running backs, sometimes like to get manicures. They have their fingernails trimmed, then emery-boarded, then painted various colors. In the old days, after football games, guys who played football for the Raiders would have had their heads manicured.

Citadel linebacker Marc Buoniconti suffered a critical neck injury similar to one that paralyzed former Boston Patriot Darryl Stingley, officials in Johnson City, Tenn., said Sunday. Buoniconti, 19, son of former Miami Dolphin All-Pro linebacker Nick Buoniconti, was injured Saturday while tackling a runner during his team's 28-21 victory over East Tennessee State. "Marc's condition is being constantly monitored. He remains in the intensive care unit of the Johnson City Medical Center.

"WINNING isn't everything," Vince Lombardi famously said. "It's the only thing." For a particular group of competitors, Lombardi's one-liner is less a wry comment on cutthroat athletic competition than a simple fact of life. In boardrooms and bedrooms, in playing fields and universities, the hypercompetitive person appears -- transforming even the most trivial transaction into a ruthless face-off with a winner and a loser. We know it when we see it.

Beyond the terrible misfortune of Darryl Stingley, there are two disturbing things about the Jack Tatum case (as written about in Bill Plaschke's column of Aug. 12): The hypocrisy of scorning a man who perfects brutality in a sport that demands it; and the insensitivity of a man who capitalizes on his exploits in the face of the Stingley incident, and worse, doesn't have the decency to donate any of his profits to an organization for quadriplegics. RON OVADIA Irvine