Forget About the Magic Number, Chargers’ Coryell Is Still the One

Don Coryell is in trouble? In San Diego? Are you kidding me?

What happened? Did he run over a pedestrian while taping those automobile commercials? Did he tamper with the Hedgecock jury? Did he accuse Steve Garvey of eating quiche?

Isn’t Coryell the guy who raised cries of anguish when he became honorary chairman of a pro-convention center campaign a few years ago? Why? Because opponents of the Big CC did not think it was fair that such a popular figure was aligned against them.

And this man is in trouble? What does he have to do to escape? Kiss babies or donate to the symphony or post bail?

I see. He has to win football games, or, more precisely, the Chargers have to win football games.

I have heard that the magic number is eight. That would give the local heroes an 8-8 record. Of course, 9-7 or 10-6 would also be just fine.

But what if the Chargers finish 7-9--or worse? Would Air Coryell get a one-way flight out of town?

I hate to see firm-and-fast numbers attached to such a decision. In truth, I do not think owner Alex Spanos has etched any such stipulation on the cornerstone of this franchise he wants so desperately to succeed.

None of this is to suggest that popularity should be a criteria. It should not be a factor, and that is fine with Coryell. He is almost incongruously popular anyway, because he is a private man who is comfortable only at home. In his case, home can be defined as either his house or the stadium. You won’t find him drumming up support at a Kiwanis Club luncheon.

Thus, only one criteria comes into play.

Can Don Coryell coach a football team? Can Alex Spanos build a building?

The Chargers had their greatest of years--at least in recent memory--when Coryell took them to American Football Conference West championships in 1979, 1980 and 1981.

But is the game passing him by? Hardly.

Coryell was the first to understand that rules changes dictated that the football could be passed with great success. He was also among the first to utilize the one-back backfield. While others scramble to catch up, Coryell comes along with a three-back alignment and a split-T or wishbone-style option play.

“Nothing’s new in football,” he shrugged. “Anyone who’s coached long enough has tried about everything. Everyone’s talking about Chicago putting that big lineman in the backfield. Heck, that’s been done before.”

In Coryell’s case, it was a matter of strategic deployment of personnel. He had the agile Buford McGee, a wishbone quarterback in his high school days, and Gary Anderson, a quick running back he wanted to get to the outside. He decided to unleash both of them, and let the defense ponder its plight.

In fact, the man who so tactically employed four wide receivers or three tight ends could put together the first four-quarterback backfield. McGee, Anderson, running back Lionel James and tight end Pete Holohan have all been quarterbacks. Can it only be a matter of time before Coryell puts three of them in the backfield with Dan Fouts?

That would be something new, wouldn’t it?

Obviously, the game is not passing him by. The next question might involve motivation. Have the Chargers quit on him?

I submit two scores for consideration. The first, of course, was that humiliating 34-21 defeat at the hands of the Raiders a week ago Monday. It dropped the Chargers to 3-5 and would have buried quitters for the duration of the season. Instead, they bounced back to trample Denver, 30-10, Sunday afternoon.

After all these years, Coryell thinks he might have learned something from those two games.

“We worked like heck the week before we played the Raiders,” he said. “When you’re losing, the tendency is to think you’ve gotta get better fast. We worked hard, hit hard and practiced hard. And then we didn’t play a physical game.”

In the aftermath of the Raider debacle, the Chargers had a short week to get ready for Denver.

“We had so many guys hurt,” Coryell said, “we had to take it easy. We still practiced long hours, but we went without pads. When we got to the game, we hit harder and played a better, more physical game. I started thinking about the past, when we were winning, about how we worked hard and ran, but didn’t hit as much during the week.”

And so the Chargers, left for dead that Monday night, proved to be very much alive.

Even the defense played well. Coryell himself has dabbled very superficially in the defense, but he has been sitting in on team meetings for the last six weeks. He will take no personal credit for improvement.

“I just want to know what’s going on,” he said. “I don’t have any input. The responsibility is decentralized and the defensive coaches have their own jobs to do.”

Those defensive coaches are dealing with a bunch of youngsters. Indeed, new faces abound on the roster. This is a year of transition, and not a year for more than the most modest of expectations.

That the Chargers have these dues to pay is no fault of the head coach. When this club hit the skids, it was because of decisions made upstairs.

Does Don Coryell feel Eugene Klein lost a sense of commitment during his last couple of years as owner?

“I don’t think so,” Coryell said. “Not in his own mind. We did a lot of trading to win ‘right now,’ rather than build a continuing thing for the future. George Allen had been successful at that, but it only lasts for so long and suddenly everybody gets old.”

So now the Chargers are doing their building.

“No question,” Coryell said, “it’s only a matter of time before Alex Spanos has a real fine team. He’s paying for it too, but it will pay off in the long run.”

Alex Spanos already has a fine coach. He doesn’t have to look very far for continuity in that department.