
If Al Davis had been there, Tooz would not have died", Griff said to his Father.
But Al Davis' days of magically resurrecting players were over, and the last time on record that Tooz had been resurrected was when Paul Wiggin, the then Kansas City Chiefs' head coach, pounded on his chest after his heart had stopped beating. No coaches had been there when Tooz died alone.
Soon Griff would say goodbye to his childhood home in Sacramento, cross the Bay Bridge and negotiate City traffic on the way to Caydance's studio in the vicinity of Telegraph Hill. There was an intimacy in this small space. It was not only their nearness to each other, the enchanting view to San Francisco Bay, or the proximity to a French bakery that he liked. It was also that there was no couch, only a bed covered with a comfortable blended gray and medium blue semi-puffy coverlet on which pillows in various shades of blue were scattered.
The issue of who would be his best man was not in his hands, nor would he know until one of his former teammates showed up at the alter -- hopefully in a tuxedo, but this was not a given because his best man would be chosen in a card game to which he was not invited. This, Griff was informed, was a tradition, but he did not recall it ever happening before. Nevertheless, doing it this way would not anger any not-chosen large linemen.
When he arrived at Caydance's studio, he would pull into the parking garage where they now knew him well. Caydance would be making bacon-wrapped filet mignon with Mediterranean roasted potatoes, and they would open the bottle of champagne that her brother Jack had brought from Paris.