No. 24
Auburn
"When Tucker Frederickson joined the Giants as their number one draft choice from Auburn in 1965, the team thought it had a future pro great. And when Tucker gained 659 yards rushing as a rookie the Giants were convinced. But knee operations in '66 and '67 robbed Frederickson of considerable speed. He squeezed out a fair season the following year, but in 1969 he was almost completely lost because of another knee injury and a broken ankle.
Little was expected of him last season, but the 218-pound fullback surprised everyone- including himself- by staying healthy and turning a solid all-around performance. Tucker rushed for 375 yards, caught 40 passes for 408 yards (including a 57-yard touchdown reception), and was one of the better blocking backs around."
-Brenda Zanger, Pro Football 1971
"For the first time, Frederickson came through a season without an injury and began to live up to what had been predicted of him when he came out of college acclaimed 'the greatest football player in America' and mentioned on everyone's All-America. He was a savage blocker for Ron Johnson. He carried the ball only 120 times, about half the number of carries for Johnson, and averaged 3.1 yards a try. He tied for third in pass-catching on the team with 40 receptions for 10 yards a grab.
After a promising rookie season in 1965, Frederickson was hampered by knee surgery in 1966, another knee operation in 1967 and ankle and knee aches in 1969. He majored in biological science in college and is now a Wall Street broker and an East Side of Manhattan bachelor.
His real name is Ivan Charles Frederickson, Tucker being a nickname."
-John Devaney, The Complete Handbook of Pro Football (1971 Edition)
"'The greatest football player in America.' That what they called Tucker in 1964 when, as Auburn's do-everything back he was named to the AP, Look Magazine, Football Writers' Association, The Sporting News, Helms Foundation and NEA All-America teams. Tucker was also the Player of the Year in the Southeastern Conference. He twice won awards as the best blocker in the conference and played defense as well as offense.
The Giants' first selection in the 1965 college draft, he has suffered numerous injuries since turning pro. He underwent knee surgery in 1966, another knee operation in 1967 and ankle and knee complications in 1969.
Tucker's sister is married to teammate Bobby Duhon."
-1971 Topps No. 101
FREDERICKSON'S THROUGH WITH COMEBACK SCENE
"The word comeback is no longer included in Tucker Frederickson's vocabulary. It conjures up scenes he would rather forget: the sickening sensation of ligaments tearing apart inside his knee; the dull glare of operating room lights; long days and ever longer nights of empty hope; the torture of rehabilitation; the nagging uncertainty of tomorrow; promise followed by despair.
This is what comeback means to Tucker Frederickson. Small wonder he detests the word.
And yet it is a fact that the 28-year-old former Auburn All-American has staged more comebacks than any player who ever wore a Giant uniform. Three times since his sensational rookie season of 1965, Tucker has survived possible career-ending injuries. Three times he returned to play when it seemed that he might never again carry the football.
There was knee surgery in 1966, a lost season for the big, blond youngster who had broken in with a bang, gaining 659 yards rushing as the previous year. There was surgery on the other knee in 1967- a second dead end street for Frederickson. In 1969 knee and ankle injuries called another halt to his career.
By this time, everyone- Tucker included- was convinced that he was a genuine hard luck case, snake-bit and all that. 'Too bad; the kid had great promise.'
The promise of Tucker Frederickson had prompted the Giants to make him their No. 1 draft selection- the first player taken by any pro team in 1965. He came to the NFL with eye-popping credentials. He had made All-American both as a power running back and as a defensive back. He was the greatest blocker in the history of the Southeastern Conference. He was a fine receiver. He was, in short, the ideal pro prospect. He was 6-2 and 225 pounds and they called him 'the greatest football player in America.'
Nothing Tucker did as a rookie indicated that the Giants had made a wrong choice. The handsome youngster was a mild sensation. He rushed for 659 yards, caught 24 passes for 177 yards and tied for the club scoring lead with seven touchdowns. He also demonstrated that his reputation as a blocker was well founded. At the conclusion of that first season, his potential indeed seemed unlimited.
Tucker's star fell from the sky with a loud crash the following summer. His right knee was weakened in a training camp collision and a few weeks later it came apart completely under the impact of a Green Bay Packers tackle.
'It was a bad injury,' recalls Giants, orthopedic specialist Dr. Anthony Pisani. 'All the ligaments were torn. We had to take strips from Tucker's thigh, hand-make new ligaments, and wire them into his knee.'
The young running back, who had never before been hurt in football, was mentally depressed. He even contemplated quitting. He eventually convinced himself, though, that he owed the Giants (and Tucker Frederickson) at least one more try.
That came in 1967, a year after his knee surgery, but only lasted until the Pittsburgh Steelers did his other knee in during a regular-season game. More surgery. More rehabilitation. More self doubt.
'I wondered if it was really worth it,' Tucker recalls. 'I wasn't feeling sorry for myself exactly; it was more that I felt I had let the Giants down. They had drafted me with great expectations and here I was limping around on two bad knees. I doubted if I could ever really run again.'
Frederickson's coaches, family and friends implored him to try, however, and in 1968 he returned to the lineup, noticeably slower, not as sure of himself as the rookie of 1965, but in the lineup nevertheless. He had a pretty good year, too, with 486 yards on 142 carries and three touchdowns. More importantly, he had put a temporary end to the doubts that had filled him since his second knee injury. He realized he had a long way to go- but he had taken the first step.
'At least I felt I was part of things again,' reflects Tucker. 'It was embarrassing and annoying to me to be called a football player during those two years I was on the sidelines. I wasn't a football player. I was just another guy on crutches watching practice. They said I was a Giant but I sure as hell didn't feel like one. I couldn't even pull my own weight.'
Bad luck hit again in 1969, almost on schedule. Tucker got off to a fast start but his knees weakened halfway through the season and then he suffered a freak ankle injury that further complicated things and put him on the sidelines for the remainder of the year.
The glowing optimism, the hope of 1968 faded. Frederickson was hurt again and the doubts came flooding back, engulfing him in despair, driving him to a final decision; to quit or to attempt yet another comeback.
Probably reasoning that his luck certainly couldn't always be bad, Frederickson returned for the 1970 campaign. He came in lighter at 215 pounds, because ' ... I felt that would lessen the strain on my knees and give me quickness.'
The old Frederickson quickness wasn't there; it never will be again. But at least he got through the season unscathed. No knee problems. No ankle problems. Teamed with ex-Brown Ron Johnson, Tucker gave the Giants a full and productive season. He rushed 120 times for 375 yards, a 3.1 average and one touchdown. He caught 40 passes (third highest on the club) for 408 yards and another three scores. His power blocking helped the fleet Johnson roll up 1,027 on the ground. Tucker's 10 pass receptions against the Washington Redskins represented the top individual day for a receiver in 1970, surpassing the totals of even the best pass receivers in the NFL.
Even though Johnson is one of the greatest ball-carriers in the game, it was usually Frederickson who got the call from quarterback Fran Tarkenton on those third-and-short calls when a yard is needed and the defense is playing in tight armed with baseball bats and meat cleavers.
'Tuck was very dependable on those tough yardage plays,' says Tarkenton. 'I had a great deal of confidence in him when we needed that long one yard for first down.'
Although the blond fullback has lost some of his pre-injury speed, he remains a beautiful runner. The quick cut is still present, and the smooth change of pace, and the timing of his blocks.
'If Tucker hadn't suffered all those leg injuries,' says coach Alex Webster, 'well ... there's no telling how great he might have been. He's a fine natural runner. In the meantime, he was a tremendous factor for us last year. He was just as instrumental as Tarkenton or Johnson.'
Now in his fifth pro season (although he's been a Giant for six years), Tucker Frederickson is happy with his role. For the present at least he has escaped the terrible injury jinx. His old enthusiasm for playing has returned.
'The big thing is,' Tuck confesses, 'that I'm finally making a contribution to my team. I haven't always felt that way in past years.'
There was a time not long ago when Frederickson, always a hero to young Giant fans, was too embarrassed to sign autographs outside of Yankee Stadium.
'Here I'd be sitting on the bench all day, not doing a damn thing,' he says, 'and these youngsters would flock around me with their autograph books. I felt foolish. I'd say to them, 'I didn't even play today. Why not go over there and get Koy or Morrison or some of those fellows. They won the game, not me.''
In 1970, though, it was different. Tucker had shaken free of his complex. He was playing again, and winning, and the autograph-seekers looked very good to him."
-1971 New York Giants Official Yearbook
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