‘Nobody could catch him’: Hall’s legend unparalleled
The speedy ‘Sugar Land Express’ awed fans of high school football in the 1950s
Kenneth Hall is a name worth knowing. The nickname Sugar Land Express is worth remembering.
Hall had what they call videogame numbers when he was a running back at Sugar Land High School in the early 1950s. He was Bo Jackson in Tecmo Bowl before video games were even created.
Hall’s high school record of 38 100-yard rushing performances was tied in 1966 and eventually broken by Emmitt Smith, who turned into a pro football Hall of Famer with the Dallas Cowboys.
Hall’s prep career rushing yards record of 11,232 yards stood for 59 years until Derrick Henry broke it on the way to playing for Alabama and winning the Heisman.
“That night that he broke it, I got calls from ESPN, the Houston Chronicle,” Hall said. “I got calls all night long about it. This is what got me. He carried the ball 58 times that night. That’s a lot.
“Somebody asked me, ‘How many times did you carry the ball?’ I said I have absolutely no idea.”
In a funny way, that statement falls in line with the carefree way Hall played the game.
Don’t think of Hall like today’s athletes are considered. High school players today already have the measurables and build of some collegiate stars. Lifting weights is part of their daily routine, as are the numerous combines and camps and specialized coaching.
The secret for Hall in the 1950s? Only running and a growth spurt between middle school and high school.
He was a painter. He actually had to be coerced into playing football. But when he got on the field, it was easy to see he was special.
“We all knew it,” said former teammate Jerry Cooper, who played with Hall for two years. “Even the coaches did. He’d come alive the last half of his freshman year in football.
“I mean, nobody could catch him.”
Hall remembers those moments during his freshman year when no one was open to throw the ball to, so being afraid to get hit at first, he ran for his life.
“When I first started, the only thing I wanted to do was throw the ball and kick the ball,” Hall said. “I didn’t care anything about that running stuff.
“I just ran faster than they did, and I scored a touchdown, 70-something yards. And I turned around and those guys were way back there, and nobody had touched me. I said, ‘This is kind of fun. Maybe we ought to do this again sometime.’ ”
Those moments turned into a high school football career that still towers over the game to this day. Henry and Smith might have caught up to a few of Hall’s records, but he still holds some. Hall’s 47.3 yards per attempt (minimum 10 carries) is still a national record by more than 13 yards.
Everything about Hall’s career, especially in high school, was natural and spontaneous. Even the nickname Sugar Land Express.
“Somebody said a sports writer just one day said, ‘God, he’s like a freight train. He’s like an express whatever,’ ” Hall said. “Somebody said, ‘That’s pretty good. We’ll just use that.’”
It’s difficult for anybody to foreshadow the kind of career Hall would have, including Hall himself. He truly had no idea what he’d be looking back on all these years later.
Anyone who played for Paul “Bear” Bryant might see it as a privilege to have had the chance to be around such a revered figure.
For Hall’s short-lived Texas A&M career, it was both a blessing and a curse.
Players still play on both sides of the ball today, but in those times, it was part of the game as much as the touchdown itself. But on one end was Bryant, who believed in defense and only defense. That didn’t bode well for the halfback Hall, who wasn’t as apt on the other side of the ball.
The marriage never really worked between Sugar Land’s greatest export and the game’s greatest coach.
But years later, Hall got a letter from the legendary coach that he still holds dear. In it, Bryant said the “biggest mistake” he ever made coaching was how he had handled Hall.
“I was pleased with that,” Hall said. “There’s honor in that statement. I wrote him back and told him, ‘Well, I think the way you handled me probably was a mistake, but I didn’t know that at the time and neither did you. But you learned from that, that all kids are not made the same.’”
Hall said he believed Bryant’s change toward players and experience with him was noticeable at Alabama, where he led that program to prominence. In the letters the two shared, both men found peace and Hall still enjoyed the pros.
Between 1957 and 1961, Hall had stints in the Canadian Football League and with a few NFL teams. He most notably played for the hometown Oilers, with whom he broke barriers again with a 104-yard kickoff return for a touchdown to his name.
To understand Hall’s impact in the 1950s is to understand what Sugar Land used to be like.
It was a company town built around sugar, not the burgeoning suburb it is today. There weren’t 11 high schools in the town. Hall guessed everyone who worked for the sugar company logged in 20 years each on average.
Everyone knew one another. It was an entirely different world, and Hall was the biggest name.
“Whenever I’ve been sitting somewhere with some guys from Texas, and I say I’m from Sugar Land, Texas, they ask, ‘Did you know Ken Hall?’ ” said Jackie James, who grew up with Hall.
Today, Hall’s connection with Sugar Land is as strong as ever, even though he lives in Santa Rosa, Calif. He has a high school stadium named after him, as well as a neighborhood and a trophy.
Hall’s old home still stands, too, although getting there today seems different with each visit.
“When I drive into Sugar Land now, I have to really think, ‘How am I going to get to where I used to live?’ ” Hall said.