Bill Cahill, Sixkiller Era Husky Head-Hunter, Dies at 75

Bill Cahill was a slender University of Washington free safety who measured all of 5-foot-11 and 180 pounds, yet with the ferocity in which he hit people on the football field he might as well have been a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier.

This man played fearlessly and violently for the Huskies from 1970 to 1972 -- also known as the Sixkiller Era -- and this was never more evident than when he crashed into USC running back Lou Harris on a sweep and literally ended the other guy's afternoon at Husky Stadium.

Play was momentary stopped to remove Harris from the field after he had rushed for 126 yards in a game the Trojans won 13-12 and would gain no more while Cahill simply tried to regain his bearings.

"We hit full speed," Cahill said in 2008. "He was coming up. I was coming up. I saw him first. It was ka-boom. I went, 'Whoa, that was a good hit.' I was spinning around on the AstroTurf, and it was, 'How did I get here?' It was a big Husky hit. That was our theme: We hit people."

On Thursday, another piece of Husky football folklore faded away with the passage of time when Cahill, 75, died following an extended illness, with quarterback Sonny Sixkiller fittingly contacting people, including this website, to let them know of his teammate's passing.

Cahill was one of the true characters in a swashbuckling time for Husky football, emerging as a Kamikaze-style defensive leader who took some of the spotlight off of Sixkiller and the offensive heroics that generally defined those times.

A three-year UW starter, he intercepted 9 passes, returning one 15 yards for a touchdown against Washington State, and was a dynamic punt returner, running one back 70 yards for a score against Illinois.

He received UPI All-American honorable-mention recognition. He was a difference-maker at all times.

Cahill is one of several prominent players from those Sixkiller teams who have passed away, among the All-American cornerback Calvin Jones, wide receiver Jim Krieg, defensive end Kurt Matter, linebacker Gordy Guinn and defensive end Dave Worgan.

Bill Cahill shown in a UW trading card. | Raley

From Bellevue High School, Cahill came across Lake Washington to play with great courage, sharing in a team-wide trait that was responsible for rescuing the UW program after it had finished 1-9 in when he and Sixkiller were freshmen in 1969. Their teams finished 6-4, 8-3 and 8-3.

"We had a personality on that team that was absolutely fun and high performance, which I don't think you can separate," Cahill said. "We had a lot of small, athletic guys. What was common with that group was we all came from winning programs. We knew how to win. Losing wasn't in the cards."

Sixkiller liked to share a story of how he and Cahill, as the 1972 team captains, together talked Jim Owens and his coaching staff into letting them shine their black football shoes white to give the Huskies some added flair.

"Bill Cahill and I, on behalf of the team, lobbied the coaches, Jim Owens and [quarterbacks coach] Bob Schloredt, that we had a right to wear white shoes," Sixkiller recalled. "They approved it, provided that we did all of our shoes. They weren't going to buy us new shoes. We had to do the old shoeshine white on them."

Cahill later spent two seasons with the Buffalo Bills, mostly on special teams. On the day O.J. Simpson set the then-NFL rushing record with 2,003 yards in a season in a nationally televised game, the former UW player stole some of his teammate's spotlight by returning a punt 51 yards for a score against the New York Jets.

All along, he was taught to be offensive in his defensive approach with the Huskies, to go for the ball, to run through the play, to be the aggressor. He was toughened up in practice.

"They'd give linebackers the ball, with the dummies spaced not very far apart, and the defensive backs had to tackle them," Cahill said. "That was brutal. You learned how to tackle, to use leverage, to use speed, or you couldn't survive. You learned little tricks. Then it started to be fun."

It also was a little dangerous, especially if you were someone such as USC's Lou Harris who was having a big day before Cahill ran into you and ended it.

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