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Coach of the Year: How about Seifert?
Posted: Thursday January 06, 2000 04:08 PM
For all of its wealth, popularity and uncanny ability to turn network executives
into pandering sycophants, the NFL acts like a minor league at times -- one
example being the way it allows its regular-season awards to be diluted and
discarded. Baseball makes an event of its honors, waiting until after
the playoffs to announce the MVP, Cy Young Award winner and other respected
choices of a uniform electorate. The NFL has 62 different "All-Pro"
teams, quarterbacks winning "Most Valuable Player" but not
"Offensive Player of the Year" and Pro Bowl votes that are counted
with three games left in the season.
This year's league MVP trophy deservedly went to Rams quarterback Kurt
Warner on Jan. 5, but where was the televised, league-sanctioned trophy
presentation? Where was the buildup, the suspense, the clarity? Keeping track of
various organizations' assorted arcane honors -- the Titans' Jevon (The
Freak) Kearse was named Bartles & Jaymes' Wacky Football Newsletter's
"AFC Defensive Rookie of the Year With a Cool Nickname" -- is like
watching the Grammys while inhaling a tank's worth of stale nitrous
oxide.
Alright, the rant is over. One organization that does a responsible job of
handing out awards is the Pro Football Writers of America which, in conjunction
with Pro Football Weekly, actually waits until the season is over before
collecting its ballots. Mine is due imminently, and I thought it would be
special if we all filled it out together. Simply click over to
http://www.wieldthesilversword.com ...
Yeah,
right.
No, actually, we're going to stick to one award, and I'll be doing the
selecting. (If you don't agree with the pick, become a pro football writer and
cast a vote of your own.) The category is Coach of the Year, and in this twisted
season, there are many deserving
candidates:
Dick Vermeil. It's tough not to vote for the watery-eyed wizard who
turned the Rams from a 4-12 joke to a 13-3 juggernaut-in-waiting. St. Louis did
have a soft schedule, and Warner, Marshall Faulk and Issac Bruce
played out of their heads. But Vermeil's such an engaging, big-hearted guy,
you hate to consider anyone
else.
Jim Mora. An underrated coach for much of his career, it's good to
see Mora reborn. But to give him too much credit for the Colts' turnaround from
3-13 in '98 to 13-3 this year is a mistake. The addition of Edgerrin James
and the polish of Peyton Manning were the primary forces behind
Indy's
rise.
Jeff Fisher. Though he stunned everyone by guiding the Titans to a
13-3 record, Fisher actually did more for his team the previous three seasons --
all ended with 8-8 records -- during which the nomadic franchise was less
grounded than a brick house on the San Andreas Fault. Still, because of his
flat-line demeanor under pressure, relentless preparation and ability to connect
with his players, Fisher will get my
vote.
If I thought he had any chance to win, however, I'd vote for the man I think did
the most remarkable coaching job of 1999 -- and maybe of any year since I
started covering football a decade ago. A man whose team finished 8-8. And no,
I'm not talking about Bill Parcells, who, in trendy NFL expert
circles, supposedly "did the best coaching job of his career" in '99.
Excuse me? Parcells left his team without an established backup quarterback,
then, when Vinny Testaverde went down in Week 1, allowed the Jets to
crumble for half a season, rallying them only after they fell out of playoff
contention. Nice
work.
No, the best coaching job of the season came from a man who began it with the
highest winning percentage in NFL history and ended it with one of the craziest
8-8s you'll ever see: George Seifert, Carolina
Panthers.
Seifert inherited a Panthers team that went 4-12 in '98 and, among other
problems, was pressed against the salary cap like spandex tights on Nate
Newton. That meant that instead of signing big-time free agents, they had
to settle for bargains like wideout Patrick Jeffers, whom the Panthers
plucked away from Dallas for $1.2 million. Ask football people around the
league, and they'll tell you Carolina's roster had less pure talent than any
team except Cleveland's. Seifert's quarterback, Steve Beuerlein, was
regarded as a capable journeyman; his halfback, Tshimanga Biakabutuka,
was viewed as a washout. Then, during the season, one of his starting receivers,
Rae Carruth, was charged with attempted murder -- and you all know how
quiet a story that has been in the Charlotte area. If ever a team had a
potential to be distracted by a grisly, off-the-field situation, this was it.
And yet through all of the horrific speculation, with all of the Panthers'
shortcomings, Seifert kept them in contention for a playoff berth through the
final game of the
season.
Because Seifert was one of the great defensive coordinators of his era before
becoming the 49ers' head coach in 1989 -- and because the Niners' offensive
coordinators during his tenure included two brilliant strategists, Mike
Holmgren and Mike Shanahan -- people tend to view him as someone
who can't tell a screen pass from a striped bass. But when I asked Wesley
Walls, Carolina's talented tight end, to explain the team's offensive
explosion (Beuerlein turning into a prolific, Pro Bowl quarterback; Biakabutuka,
when healthy, becoming the breakaway threat the Panthers always hoped he could
be; Jeffers, out of nowhere, emerging as a star-in-waiting), the first two words
out of his mouth were, "George
Seifert."
Here's Walls's take: "George has seen this West Coast Offense for so long,
and has coached against it on so many levels, that he has a pretty good vision
of what it's supposed to look like. He'd come to our offensive meetings and sort
of bring the perspective of how defenses will cover certain formations, and how
we might be able to attack those defenses. The result, I think, is that it's
opened up our offense. I'd bet a gold mine that we've had more big plays this
year than we had in my first four seasons here
combined."
As a motivator, Seifert worked wonders with a team that had blown a bunch of
leads and lost an NFL-record-tying nine games by a touchdown or less in '98.
When he saw the pattern repeat -- Carolina went up 21-0 on Washington before
losing in Week 4 -- he knew he had to work on the team's killer instinct. When
the Panthers flew to his old stomping grounds, San Francisco, for their next
game, Seifert found a dramatic means of hammering home his
point.
"They showed Saving Private Ryan on the plane," Walls
recalls, "and later that day, when we went to Candlestick and walked
through, he brought it up when we were in the locker room. He said, 'Something
in that movie upset me. What was one of the biggest mistakes the American
soldiers made?' Someone yelled out, 'They didn't kill the German, and later he
came back and killed Tom Hanks.' George said, 'That's right. Now, I
don't want to compare that war to what we're doing, because the implications
were so much larger, but that's exactly what this team needs to do. We need to
finish people off when we have the chance, because otherwise they'll come back
to kill us.' The next day, we went out and got a lead on the 49ers, and we all
thought about that speech as we put them
away."
I met Seifert at 49ers headquarters in 1989, when I was a rookie beat writer for
a now-defunct rag of a paper in Sacramento and he was a rookie head coach. I've
seen him grow in so many ways, primarily in his ability and willingness to
convey his wit and personality to those around him. Beyond the obvious strategic
aptitude and work ethic, it's hard to quantify what makes him such a successful
coach. For me, two things stand out: When his teams don't win, they're almost
always in the game, a sign that he is both well-prepared and adaptable.
Secondly, he's willing to sublimate his ego for the good of the team, and this
carries over -- anyone is considered replaceable, and he imparts a sort of
tunnel vision in his players that allows them to care only about
winning.
This, I believe, is why the Panthers were able to plow through the Carruth drama
and stay in the playoff hunt, even though they had no business being anywhere
near
.500.
"No one can really put together one or two sentences to explain how George
motivates you," says Walls, who played for Seifert in San Francisco from
1989-93. "It's a bunch of things -- a little comment here, a little
observation there, maybe a few words to you personally -- that happen all
throughout the week. It's like he's a counselor or something. "You're
getting therapy from George Seifert -- now that's a scary thought. He pulled out
analogies all year long, and a lot of it was stuff I heard every year in San
Francisco. But still, they worked. He's got a great way of not making you think
you're getting a pep talk, but of making you understand the seriousness of the
moment."
I'll leave you with a not-so-bold prediction. Wait until Seifert, a man who
doesn't really care about individual glory, gets some players. Then watch him
win Super Bowl No.
3.
Sports Illustrated senior writer Michael Silver wields The Silver Sword every Friday on CNNSI.com. To goad him into responding to an e-mail or two, click here.
The opinions expressed here are solely those of the writer.
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