Larry Csonka's upcoming memoir reveals poignant parting, reunion with Don Shula | Habib

It was over. The Dolphins’ dynasty had died a crushing death in Oakland hours earlier. Soon, the team plane would land in Miami and everyone would scatter, some for good.

Although the season was done, Don Shula had one important matter to tend to. Rising from his seat and making his way through the aisle, he stopped to speak with Paul Warfield. He spoke with Jim Kiick. Perhaps hardest of all, he spoke with Larry Csonka, one of his favorites. The three weren’t randomly selected but, rather, because of the landmark contract they had signed early in March 1974 to jump to the World Football League following that NFL season.

Those negotiations involved millions of dollars, triggering tension for Shula, who saw the foundation of his championship teams crumbling. But that was then. That was business. This was personal.

“It’s professional football,” Shula told Csonka high above the clouds. “You did the right thing.”

Leaning over, Shula then whispered, “Please don’t quote me.”

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Fifty years have passed since the Dolphins’ historic 17-0 season. Thousands of words have been written, yet that poignant anecdote remained sealed in Csonka’s memory until now. It’s an emotional high in “Head On,” Csonka’s compelling memoir to be published Oct. 4.

“He had more drive and integrity than any human I’d ever met,” Csonka writes of Shula. “So it’s important to mention here that I never quoted Coach Shula in his lifetime about receiving his confidential blessing when I signed with the WFL.”

Young Larry Csonka found trouble until football found him

Dolphins fans naturally will be drawn to chapters on Csonka’s Hall of Fame career in Miami, but they’ll come away with insight into multiple lives he has lived: a rambunctious boy who found his share of trouble until football found him; a bulldozing Hall of Fame fullback (hence the book title) who never met a curfew he couldn’t blow; an Alaskan outdoorsman and broadcaster with longtime partner Audrey Bradshaw who still marvels at the evening he was engulfed by the northern lights; and today, as a 75-year-old great-grandfather of five. Oh, and a storyteller. There is a reason South Florida turned to Csonka to clinch the awarding of the 2020 Super Bowl to Miami after a decadelong absence.

Shula’s farewell message on the flight felt like the end of the story, but it actually was the end of a chapter. Csonka had not played his final game in aqua and orange. In 1979, he returned for one season at age 33, and 837 yards and 12 touchdowns say it was not merely a ceremonial season.

In an interview with The Palm Beach Post, Csonka said Shula’s peace offering “absolutely” played a role in his desire to return to the Dolphins.

“At that moment, I realized that Don’s a very deep guy,” Csonka said. “He gave the appearance of just being solely concerned with football and there was no friendship or anything. He didn’t promote that. If that happened, that was fine, but it didn’t have to happen.

“But the fact of the matter was that he wanted the best for all three of us. And he never had an opportunity to really express that where everything was off the table. There was always pressure on him because of the ongoing situation, the year we had to finish out before we left.”

Kenny Stabler’s miracle pass to Clarence Davis with 26 seconds remaining had given the Oakland Raiders a 28-26 playoff victory in the “Sea of Hands” game. It ended the Dolphins’ hopes of winning a third consecutive Super Bowl. Temporarily, the pressure was off Shula.

“He could be himself and his self was the definition of, I think, a close friend,” Csonka said. “He wished us the best because he felt as though we tried to live up to what he asked. And he wanted to end on a positive note.”

Alligator in Don Shula's shower was Csonka's idea

All three had performed at a high level. Especially in the cases of Csonka and Kiick, they had to. It was the only way to get away with all they did.

It was Csonka who caught a glimpse of Shula’s aversion to snakes at practice one day. So when a couple of teammates caught a 3-foot alligator in the Everglades, Csonka suggested planting it in Shula’s shower. It also was Csonka who once charged a $200 drink and snack tab to Shula’s hotel room.

To say Shula and Csonka hit it off from the start would be to butcher history.

“Shula pretty much decided to keep me because he couldn’t get enough to trade me,” Csonka said.

Csonka still had enough of the devil in him that had made him a regular in the principal’s office in grade school. His life took a turn when he swiped a bicycle. A judge threatened to throw him in jail if he didn’t do everything his middle-school principal, Lawrence Saltis, told him to.

“Do you know anything about football?” Saltis asked him.

“No, sir,” Csonka said.

Saltis had hit on something, beginning a friendship that explains Saltis being among Csonka’s guests in Canton in 1987 to see his Hall of Fame enshrinement.

As critical people in his life go, it’s impossible to overstate the bond Csonka formed with backfield mate Jim Kiick. They adopted “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” personas, fielded endorsement deals, toured the talk-show circuit, shot pool in Elvis’ Graceland mansion and made life heaven and hell for Shula. During a 1970 game in Atlanta, the Dolphins drove to the 1-yard line when Kiick pointed up, saying, “Look at that girl in the fourth row.” A woman was exposing her breasts. Csonka took in the view, then took the ball and scored.

The storybook ending would have had Kiick and Csonka ride off into the sunset together. The real-life ending came in 2020 after Kiick had suffered from dementia. He had CTE, the traumatic brain condition that also afflicted 1972 teammates Nick Buoniconti and Earl Morrall.

Csonka makes no attempt to gloss over the toll football had on some of his 1972 teammates. Or his own head injuries. One was severe enough that a surgeon drew marks on his temples, indicating where he would drill unless Csonka’s condition improved. It did.

“My powers of recollection have remained sharp, but there may be an expiration date down the road,” Csonka writes.

He still visits Alaska but is spending much of his time with Bradshaw in North Carolina, where his daughter and her two sons live. That chapter of his life traces to a letter received on May 1, 2000.

“Dear Larry Csonka, I understand you’re my father,” it began.

The writer was correct. In 1974, Csonka had met a couple at a house party who asked him to help them conceive. Part of the agreement was that the child wouldn’t be informed until he or she “came of age.”

“She was a gift I never expected,” Csonka wrote.

Bruising fullback. Outdoorsman. Actor. Grandfather and great-grandfather. Larry Csonka is all of that and more. Forty-three years after retiring from the NFL, he remains the only Dolphin who can relate to the rarefied air of Dan Marino for Dolfans’ adulation.

Jim Mandich, the late tight end who became a beloved radio personality, referred to Csonka as “Mr. Miami Dolphin.”

So this memoir was a long time coming. But worth the wait.

“Seventy-five years old, you look back and you think about it,” Csonka told The Post. “If you get to do two or three of the five major things in your life that you wanted to do, you’re a very lucky person.

“Well, I got to do most all of the things that I wanted to do.”

Hal Habib covers the Dolphins for The Post. Help support our journalism. Subscribe today.

This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: Miami Dolphins' Larry Csonka saw Don Shula as ‘close friend'