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Peterson's main problem was organization, or rather the lack of it. His game plans were unnecessarily long—"the Grab Bag Offense" Houston players called it. Nor did he bridge any credibility gaps when he opened his mouth. When one of his assistants remarked in San Diego last year, "I'm tired. It's only 10 o'clock here but it's midnight back in Houston," Peterson quickly observed, "Yeah, that by itself is enough reason not to live out here."
In the off-season the Oilers plotted to surround Peterson with top assistants and hired Sid Gillman, the former San Diego coach, as executive vice-president-general manager. Peterson's days were numbered. He lost whatever control he had over the team. When he fined one of his players for an oversight in an exhibition game last summer, the player protested. The coach doubled the fine. "You can fine me until your heart's content," the player yelled at a team meeting.
A ranter and raver on the practice field his first year, Peterson became a lost soul, standing at the back of practice groups, chatting with taxi squadders and peering over people's shoulders to get a look at what was going on. Words continued to betray him. He regretted the loss of three draft choices ( John Matuszak, George Amundson and Joe Blahak) to the College All-Star camp. It was hard to work, he said, "without Matsuey, Almerson and Blaylock." On the daily itinerary, under uniform of the day, he wrote "helmets and headgears." Players began to listen to him more for Petersonisms than for instruction. "When they play it [the national anthem]," he said, "I want you standing on your helmets at attention with the sideline under your arm."
Gillman took over as offensive coordinator before the fourth regular-season game, a 31-26 loss to the Rams. That day Houston Center Bill Curry suffered a badly broken leg, an injury that might end his career. Gillman visited him in the hospital after the game. "If there's anything bothering you, let me know," he said. To ease his pain Curry had been given a shot that made him slightly delirious. He blurted, "As a matter of fact, something's bothering me now. When's the charade going to end?" After a 48-20 loss to Denver the following week, General Manager Gillman hired himself as head coach of the team.
But the prospect in Houston remains bleak. Gillman has cracked the whip and handed out fines left and right, and he has told the team not to expect miracles. "I didn't come here to be a prophet," he announced. "No," mumbled one of the players, "you came here to be a god."
"It's like visiting friends doing eight to 10," wrote David Casstevens of the Houston Post, describing what it is like to cover the Oilers. In a section of the Post devoted to reporters' predictions, Stan Slaten selected Baltimore over Houston by 100 points. Columnist Jim Murray wrote: "On any given Sunday, any given team in the NFL can beat the Houston Oilers." The Oilers, it seems, can't even beat the odds, against which they are 6-16 over the past two years. Last week two Houston bookies refused to take bets on the Oiler-Colt game.
The outlook for 1974 is even worse. Asked about coaching next season, Gillman says it is "absolutely my intention to step out." Health forced him to resign in 1969, and he says, "I don't have the energy or the strength to be a pro football coach anymore." Gillman says he will devote the off-season to finding a coach who is "young, hardworking, dedicated, knowledgeable" and a host of other things that add up to somebody too intelligent to want anything to do with Houston. As if things weren't bad enough, General Manager Gillman has long since traded away the Oilers' first, second, third, fifth and sixth draft choices for next season.
And, of course, a new coach will just compound the Oilers' biggest problem—the unrelenting state of flux. In the 1970s the Oilers have had four head coaches, four defensive line coaches, three defensive backfield coaches, four offensive backfield coaches, three linebacker coaches, three receiver coaches, three offensive line coaches, three trainers, three general managers, three team physicians and nine victories. Twenty-six of the 47 players are new this year and Gillman's whirlwind dealing has not stopped. "Anybody that can walk, chew gum and breathe will get a look," he promised last week, although he qualified that by demanding that aspirants be able to handle these three skills "at the same time." Groaned one Oiler, "It's pathetic. It's pitiful."
"The players all want out," says Tom Regner, who was an Oiler guard for six seasons before retiring this year to help run an Italian restaurant across the street from Houston's mosquito-infested practice field. "I can see it in their faces. They come in here and shake their heads. I just say, 'I know.' You don't have a future here. Head coaches don't have a future here. How can a player have a future? The only thing you've got to look forward to each year is a new coach and a new system." He wiped his hands on his apron and stared out the window at the practice field fence. "I'd rather be making sandwiches," he said.