Some syndicated radio throats were analyzing Super Bowl football and trying to decide on the biggest upset in pro playoff history. For the most part, they settled on the 16-7 New York Jet stunner with Baltimore on 1-12-69. At one point they considered Kansas City’s 23-7 rip of Minnesota on 1-11-70.

One guy was trying to sell the notion that a New York Giant win against the undefeated New England Patriots on Feb. 3 would top the list. Wouldn’t even be close.

While the NFL had nowhere near its current appeal, for my money the No. 1 pro upset came on Dec. 8, 1940, at Griffith Stadium in Washington. That jolting development combined with a Rose Bowl stunner three weeks later created the greatest transformation in grid history. These games gave birth to growing use of the T-formation after years of single- and double-wing sets.

The revolution began in the pro title game; the Chicago Bears ripped the Washington Redskins 73-0. Not only was that score an “upset” but Washington had defeated Chicago 7-3 three weeks earlier in the regular season. Washington owner George Marshall told reporters the Bears were crybabies and quitters when things got tough.

Bear coach George Halas made sure his guys were aware of such banter. Further, Halas broke out a “new” formation with hall-of-famer Sid Luckman as the triggerman. Shortly after, Stanford worked a similar T-formation miracle in whipping favored Nebraska 21-13 in the Rose Bowl. Clark Shaughnessy was the Stanford coach who had been toying with the alignment. He and Halas had consulted. Later, Shaughnessy joined the Bears staff.

On the second play against the ‘Skins, Chicago’s Bill Osmanski burst 68 yards to score. Unfazed and confident, Washington with superstar Sammy Baugh in command drove to the Chicago 26-yard line, but receiver Charlie Malone dropped a sure touchdown in the end zone. The game could have been tied.

With Luckman faking, throwing and running, the Bears surged to 28-0 at halftime … 45 more in the second half. Halas pulled his starters, but the subs kept raging. So many point-after footballs were being kicked into the stands that officials asked Halas to run or pass for the conversions after the last two TDs. (That game also marked the last time an NFL player, Bear end Dick Plasman, played without a helmet.)

Washington’s Baugh was asked how he felt the game would have gone if Malone hadn’t dropped the tying pass. Quipped a shocked Slingin’ Sammy: “It would have been 73-7.”

Before he retired, Baugh also became a T-master.

Stanford in 1940 had lefthanded smoothie Frankie Albert at quarterback with Hugh Gallarneau and Pete Kmetovic as halfbacks and Norm Standlee at fullback. West Coast football was a target of snickers for some, particularly Nebraskans. But Albert and Co. took charge and, as the Bears did in Washington, sprang an upset.

That was a time when a college substitute could not speak in the huddle until he’d been in for one play. Or once a guy was substituted, he couldn’t come out until the start of the next quarter. Most pro and college people played both ways, including Luckman and Baugh, who also were great punters. Imagine today’s super-blubboes, like some of those Virginia Tech lineman, trying to keep up in two-way football.

The 1940 season exploded the T-formation onto the scene and Chicago’s 73-0 mauling of Washington remains my No. 1 pro upset, no matter what the Giants do.