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On the Defensive. Defensively, the Lions have an equally formidable lineup. Hip-deep in burly specialists, the pros have stuck to two platoons, and somewhere in the shuffle when the ball changes hands, the basic defensive line dwindles from seven to five men. There are still two ends and two tackles, but such old-fashioned operators as the guards and center have lost out to an energetic strongman known as the middle guard. On the Lions, this vital hole is plugged by Les Bingaman (6 ft. 3 in.), a mammoth gentleman who learned his manners at the University of Illinois. Weighing in at 349½ Ibs. (Coach Parker had to borrow a livestock scale from the Farm Credit Bureau before he could be sure), Bingo has the girth of a pair of operatic Amazons and a chest to match. He can move fast if he has to—for a few precious yards—but mostly he waits and the plays pile up around him. Bingo stops runners the way Pepper Martin used to field ground balls —with his stomach.
In the defensive secondary, the Lions' opponents who are lucky enough to get that far run head on into a pair of rough-and-ready linebackers: Washington State's LaVern Torgeson (6 ft., 215 Ibs., and a team co-captain along with Thurman McGraw) and Pitt's Joe Schmidt (6 ft., 220 Ibs.). Normally, Torgeson and Schmidt line up with one foot between a tackle and end, then drift back as they diagnose the play. No one bothers backing up Bingaman. Says Coach Parker: "It would be a waste of manpower."
Behind the linebackers wait the port and starboard up-backs: Colorado A. & M.'s Jim David (5 ft. 10 in., 175 Ibs.) and U.C.L.A.'s Bill Stits (6 ft., 190 Ibs.). Cat-nimble and quick of eye, these two are the backbone of the Lions' pass defense. Tag-end men in that airtight backfield are two of the swiftest safety men in football: Colorado A. & M.'s Jack Christiansen (6 ft. i in., 185 Ibs.) and Syracuse's Carl Karilivacz (6 ft., 185 Ibs.).
A Sporting Life. No matter how rough or tricky the game, pro players never seem to lose the happy-go-lucky attitude of men who like the way they earn their living. No matter how hard a beating he absorbs on the field, Bobby Layne, for one, has an insatiable appetite for sport. A chronic gambler, he will try anything at which he has a chance to win. He has been known to toss thousands on the tables at Las Vegas, but he much prefers to make his bets on games of skill. Anyone who takes him on at golf had better shoot in the low 70s.
When he isn't playing, Bobby spends most of his time with his wife Carol Ann and their two children, Rob, 6, and Alan, 15 months. Since Rob started school, Carol Ann and the children have stayed home in Lubbock, Texas during the football season. But off season, Bobby Sr. is just another businessman and father. He now earns about $20,000 a year with the Lions, plus a small share of their gate receipts—which is well above the relatively low average ($7,500) for pro football players. But at 27 Bobby knows well that he has precious few more years of football ahead of him. So he has already started in the oil business with his old coach, Blair Cherry.