44. Ezra Johnson and the Hot Dog

Wisconsinites love their hot dogs, bratwurst, Polish, and ­Italian sausages. Think of all the tailgate parties before games at Hagemeister Park, City Stadium, and Milwaukee County ­Stadium. Think of the 80,000 people who file into Lambeau Field 10 times a year and the thousands more who hit the parking lot during training camp and the year-round restaurant inside. But the most famous hot dog in Packers history was consumed during the second half of a preseason game against the Denver Broncos on August 30, 1980, at Lambeau Field. The man who ate it, defensive end Ezra ­Johnson, touched off a controversy that riled the fanbase, prompted a position coach to resign, and became a punch line during a pretty dark period in Packers history. “I was just hungry,” Johnson said years later. “That’s the truth.”

How could a simple hot dog become such a flash point? Given the context Johnson’s snack seemed like a last straw. The Green Bay franchise wasn’t in particularly good shape at the end the summer in 1980. After buoying spirits with an 8–7–1 mark that just missed a playoff berth in 1978, coach Bart Starr’s squad regressed in 1979 with a 5–11 mark. Though fans loved the former quarterback from Vince Lombardi’s championship dynasty, Starr, who also served as the team’s general manager, was running on borrowed time in 1980. During the winter he fired defensive coordinator Dave “Hawg” Hanner and replaced him with John Meyer. Hanner, a former Lombardi assistant who was a popular figure in Green Bay, went to work for the (gasp) Chicago Bears.

With the fourth overall pick in the 1980 NFL Draft, Starr selected Bruce Clark, a hulking defensive lineman from Penn State. Clark, an All-American, had won the Lombardi Trophy as a junior and was selected after Billy Sims (Detroit Lions), Johnny “Lam” Jones (New York Jets), and Anthony Munoz (Cincinnati Bengals). The Packers wanted Clark to man the middle of their three-man defensive front. Clark had no desire to play nose tackle, but Starr drafted him anyway. Clark eschewed Green Bay and the NFL, opting to sign with the Toronto Argonauts of the Canadian Football League. (Clark went on to have a solid career, including a seven-year stint with the New Orleans Saints, where he made the Pro Bowl in 1984.)

In the 1980 exhibition opener, the Hall of Fame Game in Canton, Ohio, the Packers and San Diego Chargers were playing a scoreless tie when NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle called the game due to lightning with 5:29 left. It was the first weather-related cancellation in league history and a sign of things to come.

After losing at the Dallas Cowboys 17–14, the Packers dropped a 17–3 decision to the Baltimore Colts, got skunked at the Buffalo Bills (14–0), and then dropped a miserable 38–0 verdict to Denver in the final preseason game that drew boos from the crowd of 53,060. Johnson didn’t think about the optics of taking a hot dog from a fan in the stands, but word got out quickly and frustrated fans, who considered the act a sign of dysfunction, if not mutiny. Defensive line coach Fred Von Appen, who felt that Starr should have suspended Johnson to send a message to the team, resigned in protest, adding to the chaos leading into the season opener against Chicago. “It was the last preseason game, and I only played two series,” Johnson said. “The reporters made a big deal out of it. Then Fred left, and I was fined $1,000. I didn’t think the fine was fair. It would have been a different thing if I had eaten that thing because we were losing or because of disrespect. I ate that thing because I was hungry.”

From that moment on, Johnson was labeled as a malcontent and a problem player—additions to his professional resume that weren’t warranted. He was drafted out of tiny Morris Brown College in Atlanta in 1978. (If you’re wondering about Morris Brown’s current team, don’t bother looking it up; the school lost its accreditation amid financial scandals in the early 2000s and is struggling to exist.)

With a pair of first-round picks and a plan to bolster a lackluster defense, the Packers drafted end Mike Butler from Kansas with the ninth overall pick and grabbed Johnson at No. 28. Though he was a bit small for an end (6’4”, 235 pounds) and hadn’t played against big-time competition, Johnson caught the eye of several pro teams because of his blazing speed and ability to chase down quarterbacks. Al Davis, venerable owner of the Oakland Raiders, coveted Johnson, whom he wanted to turn into an outside linebacker—a position Johnson played until his senior year in college. “I was from a very small school, but I was told by one of the Packers scouts, Buford ‘Baby’ Ray, that I could be drafted high,” Johnson said. “He always had faith in me, and thank God for his vision. But Al Davis had me visit Oakland for three days, and it was kind of like he was holding me hostage before he flew me home. The Raiders had an early pick in the second round, and he kept saying he was going to make me into a linebacker. That was his plan, but I have no regrets.”

Butler had an immediate impact. Johnson, who was relatively light, played as a rookie backup before joining the starting lineup in his second season. The pair went on to anchor the defense for five years. “Ezra was a better ballplayer against the pass, and I was a better run stopper,” Butler said. “Ezra was before his time as a pass rusher. He had those moves. Most quarterbacks are right-handed, and I was coming straight at them. For a while there, we were a heck of a combination.”

Unfortunately, they didn’t have a lot of help. “We had a very good defense back then, but there were challenges,” Johnson said. “Other than Mike Butler, it’s hard to name the defensive ends or tackles we played with during my career. It would have been nice if there was a big defensive tackle in there when the quarterback went to step up into the pocket.”

Though quarterback sacks weren’t recorded as an official stat until 1982, Johnson quickly established himself as one of the best pass rushers in the business. Playing nearly every snap of the game (which is unheard of now), he was named to the Pro Bowl after the 1978 season and enjoyed his newfound celebrity status. It’s hard to fathom today, but athletes in that era often sought to supplement their income with Superstars type events in the offseason. Johnson’s friend, Bengals defensive end Ross Browner, convinced him to participate in a boxing tournament for NFL lineman sponsored by Pyramid Productions. “It sounded very interesting to me. It was more or less a fun thing,” Johnson told the Milwaukee Sentinel. “You could go down for a week, take a guest, and everything was on them. I had a chance to win some money and got $2,000 just to show up. The guy told me I’d just have to fight three two-minute rounds. I figured I was a good enough athlete and had enough experience as far as street fighting was concerned to take care of myself, where a guy couldn’t beat me to death. Mike [Butler] thought I was just jiving. He said, ‘You can’t be serious.’ It was fun. Boxing’s a lot harder than football. It’s one-on-one. You’re exerting all of yourself. I never knew it took that kind of hard work. You’ve got to really be in shape and know what you’re doing.”

Johnson ended up losing a three-round decision to Los Angeles Rams lineman Jackie Slater, who was roughly four inches taller and about 35 pounds heavier. “He won, but he took most of the punishment,” Johnson told the Sentinel. “I cut the dude. I got in some good left jabs. I burst his lip and cut his eye. I got a good right hand. He hit me one good lick on the cheek. That’s all I can remember.” Despite pleas from the promotors, Johnson never fought again. “They tried to get me to fight a rematch because they said I could beat [Slater],” he said. “But I said I’d had enough. It was one of my funniest experiences, but I wouldn’t say it was my most enjoyable.”

Johnson did enjoy playing for the Packers, even though his teams finished with two winning records in 11 seasons. As the years went on, he added muscle to his frame and led the team in sacks with 14.5 sacks in 1983 and 9.5 in 1985. Injuries began to take their toll, though.

After a strong preseason in 1987, he injured his knee three days before the opener and was sidelined until early November and he missed two more games before closing out the final five.

As a part-time player, Johnson mentored younger players on the defense, but his $400,000 salary—one of the highest on the team—prompted general manager Tom Braatz to release him after the 1987 season as the team looked to Tim Harris to provide the pass rush. “That’s the way the business goes,” Johnson said. “I guess they decided to move on with younger guys. You can’t be so naïve to think they’re going to always want you there regardless of playing hurt and giving your all and wanting to have the team win. You can’t sit around and mope about it. You can’t put a gun to your head. I plan to try and play someplace. I didn’t die. I’m not going to crawl away and never be heard from again. I got hurt. I think I could have had a very good year. To have played 11 years, you see a lot of things. I’ve seen the faces change. Nothing really surprises me.”

Johnson played two seasons with the Indianapolis Colts before ending his playing career with the Houston Oilers. Injuries and surgeries from 15 seasons in the NFL took their toll. “The last two years in Houston I had surgeries on both knees and my shoulder [rotator cuff] in the offseason,” he said. “I started to wonder if I’d get hurt. If you have that in your subconscious, it’s time to get out.”

Once he retired, he had time to look back on his career. Rather than being bitter about the team’s record, the fact that his early sacks weren’t recorded as official stats, or the Packers’ reluctance to substitute defensive players to keep him fresh, he looked at the positives. “I wish we had won more games in Green Bay, but I can’t complain,” he said upon being inducted into the Packers Hall of Fame in 1997. “After being other places, I really learned to appreciate the Green Bay Packer fans. They are the best fans I’ve ever seen. They are true fans, no matter what…I wish I could have retired as a Green Bay Packer. I should have signed one of those one-day contracts.”