Tom Coughlin chats with QB Kurt Warner, who has jump-started his career in Giants blue. Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

The story developing in New York these days sounds simple and sweet. Giants head coach Tom Coughlin, using his no-nonsense approach and militaristic moves, has whipped a bunch of uninspired veterans into tip-top, winning shape. The talk is that if not for his heavy-handed approach, the Giants would be floundering and wondering why the Jets are thriving so effortlessly. It's an easy notion to believe. NFL coaches make quite a living selling themselves as saviors.

In reality, turnarounds in sports aren't so easy to explain. They rely heavily on several variables falling into place, and that's what is happening with the Giants. Their 4-1 record is about Kurt Warner reinventing himself, Tiki Barber taking his game to another level, a suspect offensive line proving doubters wrong and an inspired defense stifling opponents. It's about Coughlin as well -- specifically his willingness to ease off that uptight nature that has defined him throughout his career.

As I weaved my way through the Giants' locker room after their 26-10 win over Dallas last Sunday, I asked players about the effectiveness of Coughlin's tough style. I wanted to know how much that had meant to their success. Most players chuckled. They said Coughlin started winning them over when he stopped behaving like a drill sergeant all the time. "He's becoming more personable now," says reserve cornerback Terry Cousin. "He's actually stopping to talk to guys. Something like that isn't a huge difference but you can see it. When he first got here, he had to be hard but the more he's gotten to know us, the more he's realizing that there other ways to motivate us."

This is something that every coach eventually realizes in today's NFL. You can be the biggest hard-ass in the league but it won't matter if: 1) you don't have players and 2) they won't follow you. Coughlin certainly learned this after his experience in Jacksonville, where the same team he built into a perennial playoff contender eventually tired of his ranting, complaining and all the ridiculous attention he paid to the color of their dress socks on road trips. They started missing the point of his meticulous ways -- that if his players take care of the small details in life, then they'll handle the bigger ones during games with no problem -- and began treating him like the bitter, nagging housewife that never knows when to shut up.

The Giants appeared to be headed down that same road -- only faster. Coughlin demanded that his players wear thigh pads in practice, eat lunch as a team and never think about coming to practice with ankle-high socks on. The day before I visited their training camp in Albany, he had them running extra sprints because some players hadn't adhered to his strict demands about how they should crouch down into a starting position before running. The players accepted these things because they knew Coughlin's reputation. This is how he operates.

What they didn't like was the all the hitting Coughlin had them doing during training camp. Or the lines he crossed when he overworked them during minicamp. Or the fines he doled out when players didn't arrive to meetings five minutes before the sessions actually began. With all the early complaints that were reportedly flowing into the NFLPA office, it seemed as if Players' Association president Gene Upshaw was dealing with more petty cases than Judge Judy.

Somewhere along the line, Coughlin got the hint. The Giants were fighting his methods but they also were a veteran team that wanted to start winning games again. There wasn't a guy in that locker room who wanted to go 4-12 for a second straight season. As that became evident to Coughlin, his players started to see him mellow. Over the past four weeks, he's stopped ripping them at every possible moment and his more compassionate side has even appeared during games.

Consider how he handled kicker Steve Christie, who missed three field goals in a win over Green Bay two weeks ago. Instead of dumping Christie, as Coughlin probably would've done in Jacksonville, he gave the kicker a chance to kick a 51-yard field goal in Sunday's win over Dallas. Christie converted that boot and three others as well. His situation was an easy thing for average fans to miss but it matters to players. They see that he's letting them in. "[Coughlin] is definitely looser," says outside linebacker Carlos Emmons. "Not real loose, but as loose as he can get. And you can see he's enjoying this because he's smiling more now. At first, I wasn't sure if he knew how to do that."

This isn't to say that Coughlin is on his way to showing enough sensitivity that he could easily slip into a guest's chair on The View. He's still who he is. And there remain several players who hold their tongues when talking about how they really feel about his nitpicking. But as wide receiver Ike Hilliard says, "Every organization has rules that employees might not like. The thing about is that we're not a young team like the one he had in Jacksonville. We have guys who've been around and he's slowly adjusting to that. He's still doing his thing but he's allowing us to be ourselves."

Hilliard added that winning four games in a row makes it easier for everybody to get along but there's more to it than that. The Giants are learning that there's a different side to this rosy-cheeked, silver-haired man who's suddenly working wonders with them. He isn't just prodding them. He's relating to them. There's a sizable difference between the two and the Giants are grateful that Tom Coughlin now understands that.