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Follow the leader With Martz at the helm, St. Louis isn't into coastingPosted: Monday August 12, 2002 10:09 AM
I was talking with Rams coach Mike Martz on Saturday when it occurred to me why he was such a lightning rod. I was at home in New Jersey, he in a Nashville hotel room before the Rams' preseason opener with the Titans. And as we talked about his team, he said, "Defensively, I have a feeling we'll be devastating." The Rams have a bunch of injuries on the defensive line right now, and Martz, if he were the typical NFL coach (or typical person in most any walk of life), would never brag about a fairly suspect group. That's why I find him such a compelling guy. He's going to put himself right out there, right on the firing line, even when, sometimes, it could eventually make him look pretty dumb. I think his players feel it. And they like it. You hang around the Rams for a while, and you notice something you don't see on many teams. Smiles. Happiness. Not giddiness, even after the biggest of wins, but genuine gratitude about being in a special athletic place in time. Even the occasionally dour Marshall Faulk can't hide his appreciation for all things Rams. "People should know how happy I am here," said Faulk. "This is the perfect place for me, and it's because of Mike." Martz has found a way to take some special offensive talents -- Faulk, Kurt Warner, Isaac Bruce, Torry Holt, Orlando Pace -- and blend them with good players -- James Hodgins, Ernie Conwell, Ricky Proehl -- and a slew of role players to create a great offense. And, with club president Jay Zygmunt and defensive coordinator Lovie Smith, Martz oversaw a defensive reconstruction that propelled the Rams from 23rd in 2000 to third in team defense last year.
As most of you know, Martz has done all of this while becoming the man that many in the NFL love to hate. Maybe it's his penchant for leaving his offensive starters in the game late in blowouts (35-0 vs. Detroit in September, 45-17 vs. Green Bay in the playoffs), or for questionable tactics (such as onside-kicking with a 24-point lead late in the third quarter against the Jets in October), or for being so blunt when he feels he's been crossed. How blunt? When the Rams dealt 1999 NFL sack leader Kevin Carter to Tennessee last spring, Carter criticized the Rams for giving up on him. "He's a dog," Martz responded. But you can't say a discouraging word about Martz to his players. One of the keys to his success, according to the team's fourth wide receiver, Proehl, is his desire to keep everyone happy. "He schemes and plans and thinks of ways to get everyone the ball," Proehl said. "He could have Isaac or Torry catch 140 balls if he wanted to. But his mentality is it's much better for the team to have everyone thinking they could be the one to make the big play in any game." For many different reasons. When the Rams went to New Jersey to play the Jets at Giants Stadium, Martz knew Proehl was a local kid (born in the Bronx) and knew his family had owned Giants' season tickets for years. Guess who was a captain that day? Proehl. Guess who had an uncharacteristically high five passes thrown his way that day? Proehl. "I wouldn't sacrifice the game for it, but I tried to get him the ball in that ballgame," Martz said. There are two important rules in the Martz offense: All weapons -- from Faulk to Proehl to No. 3 tight end Jeff Robinson -- could touch the ball at any time. And all egos must be checked at the door. When I asked Martz last year if he'd like to have a talent like enigmatic Vikings wideout Randy Moss on his team, he said, "We wouldn't let Randy Moss in the door. Our players would kick his ass. He wouldn't fit here." A league-high six receivers caught more than 35 passes last season. The winning touchdown in tthe Rams' November game at New England came via the 10th catch of Hodgins', a blocking fullback, three-year career. Over the last half of the regular season, Bruce, the four-time Pro Bowler, caught four more passes than Proehl. This is not a particularly tight-end-friendly offense, but the second tight end, Brandon Manumaleuna, and Robinson both caught touchdown passes in vital games. The first two touchdowns against New Orleans in October came on a 51-yard pass to Bruce -- from 178-pound wideout Az Hakim. The second: Warner quick-snapped and stunned the Saints by handing off to an in-motion Conwell, who abruptly shot through a gap in the line for a two-yard score. Trick plays, groused the Saints. Football, said Martz. "People love to watch us play," Proehl said, "because we attack. I'd been on three teams before I got here, and the mentality was always the same: Get a seven-point lead in the second half and start protecting it. Don't make mistakes. I believe one of the reasons we've been so good on offense is Mike's not afraid of doing anything out there. That builds confidence." But for someone with all the intensity away from the field as a librarian from Jefferson City, Mo., Martz has made his share of enemies in the league. Jets players ripped Martz after he called for an onside kick with 19 minutes remaining in an October game when the Rams were up by 24 points. "You guarantee me they won't get the ball four times the rest of the game and we won't onside kick," he responded. Local talk shows roasted him after Warner -- still in the game with 8:30 left and a 28-point lead on the board -- suffered bruised ribs in the division playoff game against Green Bay; Martz said he wanted Warner to move the chains and keep his tired defense off the field. When Giants corner Jason Sehorn questioned what he said was the Rams' offensive impatience, Martz said: "Who cares what Jason Sehorn thinks? All I know is we keep running by him every game." Part of Martzthink is hubris. Part of it is just Martz getting carried away with the intensity of the game. Part of it is a 60-minute aggression that comes, he said, from not wanting his players to learn different speeds. "When you run the race, you don't run it to win. You run it as fast as you can." And part of it, an important part, is Martz showing his players he has their back. When he heard a TV analyst predict a 45-40 game before the Rams met the Packers, Martz put "45-40" in huge letters on the greaseboard in the team meeting room and told his players, indignantly: "We're the number one defense in the NFC! This is the biggest insult I've ever heard in all my years of coaching!" In a game against New Orleans, cornerback Aeneas Williams swore to Martz he'd made a clean interception, though Martz was just as sure Williams had trapped it. "Go to the replay, Mike!" Williams yelled. Martz did. "So I burned a timeout," Martz said. "Big deal. You've got to stick up for your guys." For a coach who might be days from hoisting the Lombardi Trophy, Martz has taken a strange road to the top. Exactly 10 years ago, Martz was a coach adrift, fired from his job as offensive coordinator at Arizona State after the 1991 season. After two months of unemployment, Martz told his wife, Julie, that maybe he should get out of the nomadic coaching life and get a regular job to support their four children. He had friends in the construction trades; maybe he'd go back to laying tile, which he did to put himself through Fresno State. Julie Martz wouldn't hear of it. "We love what you do," she told him. "Just keep going. We'll be OK." Martz decided on the ultimate desperate act of a coach's career. He would work for free. Martz left the family in Tempe and took a volunteer job with the Los Angeles Rams, coaching tight ends, bunking in a spare room at a friend's house for seven months. So low on the totem pole was he that when Julie came in for the first Rams game in Anaheim that year, Martz had to pay for her ticket. For the next six years, in Anaheim, St. Louis and Washington, Martz got paid to work under offensive coaches -- Ernie Zampese, Norv Turner -- who liked to throw the ball downfield. Martz' next crossroads came on a Friday in early 1999. He was quarterbacks coach of the Redskins, and Dave McGinnis was in Chicago, with a handshake deal to become the Bears' coach -- and McGinniswanted to name Martz offensive coordinator. "When I woke up that morning," Martz said, "I was sure I'd be going to Chicago with Dave. I really liked his coaching style." But Chicago owner Mike McCaskey called a press conference to name McGinnis coach without finishing contract negotiations, and McGinnis, sure he was being taken advantage of, withdrew from the job. Now it was down to two jobs. Martz, scared off by the tenuousness of coach Dick Vermeil's job security heading into a make-it-or-break-it season, called the Rams to say he was staying in Washington. But Zygmunt talked him out of it by adding some contractual security. In came Martz. That season, 1999, should have been pure joy for Martz. He developed Warner into league MVP, orchestrated the offense to a league-high 526 points and helped the Rams, winners of four games the previous year, win the Super Bowl. "Actually, a lot about that year just stunk," Martz said. Though Vermeil gave him full authority over offensive schemes and play-calling, he felt second-guessed during games, and while game-planning, from veteran Vermeil assistant Mike White. After White openly second-guessed a Martz play-call during a game at Tennessee that fall, Martz made it clear to Vermeil and White that he didn't want White around his offensive players or meetings for the rest of the year. And when White entered an offensive team meeting and sat down in the back of the room late in the season, Martz said to him, in spicier language than this: "Get out of here, Mike." Now you know why the Vermeil guys and Martz won't be organizing any 1999 Rams Reunions soon. When I got to know Martz as an assistant with Washington a few years ago, he was as quiet and anonymous a coach as I'd met. That was his role, to be subservient to the head coach. Now he's the boss. He plays that role the way he thinks it should be played. He knows the Rams have the target on their on their chests this year, and he knows they should have won the Super Bowl last year, and he knows he bears the brunt of the responsibility when his team underachieves. Fine with him. He'll take it. And if he loses again this year, he'll lose it his way. Attacking.
Kory Bailey, a wide receiver for the Jets, must think a lot of himself. His license plate: THRW2ME.
1. I think if I'm Stephen Davis, I'm starting to get very, very worried about the NFL rushing race. I can't see how he'll be in it very long. Spurrier's going to throw the ball till the cows come home. 2. I think Ricky Watters can, and will, be coaxed out of retirement when the first back on a good team gets hurt and a GM with a little bonus money comes calling. 3. I think these are my personal thoughts of the week: a. I can't believe how many people ask me about their teams these days, and I can't believe how many times I say their fate depends on (pick a quarterback) Tim Couch, Chris Redman, Michael Vick, Jay Fiedler, Vinny Testaverde, Whomever Spurrier Picks. It's everywhere. b. Coffeenerdness: One thing I've learned about the NFL preseason road is that you're not going to get good coffee on the byways of this great country. Except for Macomb, Ill., which actually has a Starbucks corner in the student union at Western Illinois, it's better to swear off coffee for a while out there on the road. c. The Yankees just drew 306,000 for a six-game homestand. That's 51,000 a game, for three apiece with Kansas City and Oakland. So George Steinbrenner needs a new stadium, huh? So people are afraid of going to the Bronx, huh? d. Go ahead, baseball. Set a strike date. Just make sure if you go out, you don't come back until you've got it right. 4. I think Damione Lewis, the Rams' top pick a year ago, is fast becoming a washout. Lewis still is sidelined after offseason foot surgery, and he's starting to wear out his welcome in St. Louis. People are wondering if he's tough enough, and if he's willing to play hurt. 5. I think Jonathan Wells beats out James Allen for the Texans' RB job, not that this is going to matter when he's chugging along with a 3.5-yards-per-carry average in November. No one's running much behind that Houston line with Tony Boselli and Ryan Young, the two bookend tackles of the future (supposedly) both down with injuries right now and likely into September. 6. I think Antonio Freeman should go back to Green Bay. He's not going to make good money anywhere. If he goes back to Green Bay, he'd play with a quarterback who knows and likes him, and would feed him the ball as much as anyone would. He'd better do it in a hurry, because Favre loves the new kid, Javon Walker. 7. I think Terrell Davis should read the writing on the ol' wall. When you can't play in the first preseason game because you need to get the GOOD knee drained, it might be time to ride off into the sunset. 8. I think if I'm Marty Mornhinweg and I see Bill Schroeder limp out of practice on Sunday with a strained groin, and I played Friday without my two best guys, both hurt (Az Hakim with bad hammies and Germane Crowell still recovering from reconstructive knee surgery), I am starting to wonder what Matt Millen ever got me into here. 9. I think no rookie will be more fun to watch than Jeremy Shockey, and I think no rookie will be more beat up by season's end than Jeremy Shockey. 10. I think I look forward to my annual trip to the Laurel Highlands in Latrobe, Pa., this week, to my favorite NFL camp. They practice among the monks at St. Vincent College, and the mist rises off the hills early in the morning, and ... well, you've just got to see this place. Sports Illustrated senior writer Peter King covers the NFL beat for the
magazine and is a regular contributor to CNNSI.com. Monday Morning
Quarterback appears in this space -- no kidding -- on Monday mornings.
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