‘There’s a Little Bit of Rommel, in Him and a Lot of John Wayne’ : Chargers’ Adolph Makes Difference
The burly driver on the big motorcycle looked over his shoulder with obvious irritation as a motorist honked at him several times.
Unable to determine who was blowing at him, the cyclist returned his attention to the traffic light. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small redheaded man approaching. Before he could react, the man yanked the keys from the ignition of the cycle.
“If you’re going to play for me, you’re not going to ride one of these things!” said Dave Adolph, returning to his car and driving off. Left stranded by his defensive coordinator was Cleveland Brown linebacker Tom Cousineau, who could only push his machine to a pay phone and call for help.
This was not an isolated instance of the dictatorial ways of Adolph, who recently became defensive coordinator of the Chargers. Once, before leaving Cleveland, he showed up a few minutes early in the locker room and spotted linebacker Clay Matthews eating a McDonald’s breakfast.
“You shouldn’t be eating that stuff!” Adolph said, dumping the guy’s Egg McMuffin in the garbage.
Adolph, described by acquaintances as strict, old-fashioned, conservative and very skilled at motivating his subordinates, is a disciple of Woody Hayes, the feisty, old Ohio State coach.
“He’s like the toughest English or math teacher you ever had,” said ex-Cleveland Coach Sam Rutigliano, a close friend of Adolph for 20 years. “He’s tough, he’s a bastard, but I love him. There’s a little bit of Rommel in him and a lot of John Wayne. He won’t give into you one damn inch, but he’d give you his lifeboat if it was the last one on the Titanic.”
Rutigliano, whose nickname for Adolph was Woody, had to persuade his assistant it was kosher to wear white coaching shoes. That’s how strait-laced the guy is.
“The day I got fired, Dave came to me and was too upset to talk,” Rutigliano said. “But a few days later, he came over and had a quiet dinner with us, and we stayed up talking for five or six hours. And he has called me every week since then.”
Rutligliano isn’t the only guy who raves about Adolph. Rutligliano’s successor, Marty Schottenheimer, shares the exalted view of the man.
“The best coach I’ve ever seen,” said Schottenheimer, who was unable to prevail upon Adolph to remain as the Browns’ defensive coordinator after the 1984 season. “Coaching is teaching and he knows how to teach.”
Adolph, a private, even reclusive man, reserves his teaching for players. No lectures or dissertations for the inquiring press. Not even any words of introduction for San Diego fans, who might be assumed to have an interest in the 48-year-old father of three from the Akron, Ohio, suburb of Mogadore.
“It’s not that he’s a recluse,” Rutigliano said. “It’s just that he’s so sensitive to the situation. He knows how close Don Coryell and Tom Bass were, and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that could be misconstrued.
“When he was with me in Cleveland, our staff had a single voice. My philosophy was, I may not always say the best or the most entertaining thing, but it will be in the best interest of the team. And Dave liked that philosophy.”
It may be, however, that Adolph has carried it a bit too far in his limited time with the Chargers, as even Rutigliano admitted. By being so tight-lipped, Adolph winds up being a mystery figure. A Seattle writer last week referred to him as Dave Rudolph. He has a master’s degree in meterology, but that’s not even listed in the team media guide. There are surely other facets of the man that have yet to be explored in public print. “Not many people know him,” said Charger nose tackle Chuck Ehin. “Before he became defensive coordinator, I never said three words to him. But he’s a lot more vocal now. In fact, if you screw up, he really lets you know where you stand.
“In teams meetings he’ve very up-front and forward. He’ll put your statistics on the overhead projector in front of everyone. It’s not so much to embarrass you as to motivate, but he’ll really put you on the spot.”
Adolph is in many ways the antithesis of the man he replaced, Tom Bass. In stature and manner, his approach seems diametrically opposed to the bulky, popular, outgoing Bass.
He has little use for the press--”he doesn’t think writers know much football,” said a friend--but he can be icy with nonjournalists, as well. He has been known to pass by staff members without speaking.
The man is not without a sense of humor. Several years ago, when he was coaching the Cleveland linebackers, he appeared early for practice. At a time when players were on their own to loosen up, he ordered his men to line up sideways while he threw passes in a drill to sharpen reactions.
Adolph’s men took this infringement on their time with good grace. As a group, they began to sing, “M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!” Even Adolph seemed amused, according to a witness.
If he can be summed up in one brief phrase, “hard-nosed” probably would suffice. He is straightforward and businesslike, with no tolerance for distractions.
“He’s probably honest to a fault,” Rutigliano said. “I’m like a John Barrymore, add a few parts, subtract a few parts. Not Dave. He’s etched in granite.
“Our linebackers with the Browns were guys with egos the size of the Prudential building, but under Dave, they were quiet and productive. He’s beautiful and warm and gracious with players, and he’ll perform an autopsy on them to get their best.”
The Chargers have already found how exacting he can be.
“His message to us is that you gotta make the play at all costs,” linebacker Mike Green said. “You have to take it upon yourself. ‘This is my gap and nobody is going to take it away from me.’
“He wants intensity on every play, but that’s fine with me. I need to be pushed. We all need it. If you aren’t pushed, you’re not as good as you can be. I need all the coaching I can get.”
Green predicted Adolph would have a major impact on the San Diego defense. In fact, he already has, Green said, citing the reduced yield of 253 yards in the Seattle game, compared to the average of 458 in the preceding four games.
“Another way he will help,” the linebacker said, “is in dealing with all the criticism we receive. We’ve let it get to us too much. It can play on your mind. But Coach Adolph’s approach is that talk is cheap. You have to forget all that other stuff.
“I think he could help make me into a Pro Bowl player, because I believe the raw material is there.”
Defensive line coach Gunther Cunningham said Adolph doesn’t seek to embarrass players with his direct style. “He just demands their best,” Cunningham said.
“I have to admire that part of his makeup. There is no confusion about anyone’s role. He’s already made a difference, sure, he has. Fred Robinson, one of our defensive ends, was unhappy he wasn’t playing more. Dave explained his role to him: rush the passer. He only was in on 13 plays at Seattle, but he made a sack and recovered a fumble.”
Robinson said he was unclear about his responsibilities until Adolph took command. “If I had known from Jump Street what my role was, I could focus more on getting to the passer,” he said.
“He doesn’t pull anything on you or try to hide anything. He pinpoints you in front of the group, but he doesn’t ask you to do more than you can do. I think he brings out things you didn’t even know you could do in your subconscious mind. He sees ability beyond a player’s ability to see himself.”
Adolph came to the Chargers in early March as chief of pro scouting. He had turned down an offer to remain as Cleveland’s defensive coordinator because he had remarried and wanted to relocate on the West Coast.
“I’ve only known him six months, but it seems like a lifetime,” Cunningham said. “He doesn’t fool around. He’s very intense. But he’s on the same page with the rest of the coaches. He’s come in and learned very quickly.”
Adolph is here partly at the recommendation of old friend Ron Nay, who happens to be the Chargers’ chief scout and the most valued adviser of owner Alex Spanos.
Nay was impressed as Adolph, in his first three months on the job, ranked every player in the National Football League and compiled lists of who was available through trades and other avenues. Nay also liked the scouting reports Adolph assembled on upcoming Charger opponents.
“I’ve spent a lot of time talking with him and found him to be very sensible,” Nay said. “I like to use him as a sounding board. I know he liked what he was doing in our scouting department, and he may have had a few reservations about becoming defensive coordinator.”
Adolph was caught off-guard when approached about becoming defensive coordinator.
“Some men, once they get into personnel work, want to leave coaching behind them,” Nay said. “Dave only had one night to think about this job. And, as I said, he was happy in the scouting department. People are happy in what they do well, and he was doing very well.
“I know he had no outward aspirations to another job. He had the opportunity to turn down this job if he wanted to. But he’s a career football person, a true professional, and if we were handpicking a guy to run an expansion franchise, we couldn’t have chosen a better man.”
It should be plain enough by now that there’s nothing frivolous about Adolph. He sweeps trivia out of his path like junk food.
“A very matter-of-fact guy,” Nay said. “He won’t put up with excuses. There are no gray areas with Dave. He’s very decisive. He cares about preparing his defense and, after a game, going home to be with his family rather than attending a victory party.”
The Chargers are banking on more victory parties as a result of a beefed-up defense. But it’s best not to call the caterer too soon, Rutigliano suggested.
“Dave’s not a chemist,” he said. “That defense is very young. Drafts mean nothing until three years down the road. They’re going to be better, but it’s going to take the addition of a few more parts before you put a crown on that defense.”