A Calling From the Stands : Drake Keeps Watchful Eye From Above

Assistant coaches at high school football games are easy to spot. They’re guys with a sense of purpose.

Five minutes before kickoff, they march up the stands and into the press box as if they are on a secret mission.

Usually wearing school-color-coordinated shirts and slacks, baseball caps with the school insignia and earphones, the stern-faced assistants become the eyes of the head coach on the field.

Ron Drake, the offensive coordinator at Mission Viejo, has been an assistant to Coach Bill Crow for 11 seasons. Just before the start of Saturday’s nonleague game against Santa Ana in Santa Ana Stadium, Drake, assistant Dick Robbins and several spotters went to the press box to call plays and spot trouble.

Drake’s telephone headphones are connected to Crow; Robbins’ headphones are connected to special teams coach Ken Sjobom and offensive line coach Dave Clark.

Drake and Robbins, because of their vantage point, find they announce the play-by-play as much as they analyze it.

Drake: “Bill, it’s third and 10. . . . No, make that third and about 12, so drop the backs deep and make sure the linebackers are looking for the screen or the draw.”

Drake’s dialogue, with the exception of a handful of incidents, is spoken with the calm of an air traffic controller. His comments are echoed by Robbins because Sjobom and Clark need to know the same information.

Drake: “Bill, let’s run to the slot because they’re keeping that backer over on the tight end side.”

Robbins: “Run to slot because the backer is staying on the tight end side.”

Football coaches have their own language, and players’ names have little part in it.

Drake: “Bill, go Ram, motion slot left, 60-option pass left; 44 should be wide open on this one.”

The translation: A man in motion formation, Mission Viejo quarterback John Moses will roll to his left, and then throw the ball back to the right side, where Diablo running back Darrin Sweazy (No. 44), should be open.

On the field, the play is good for 20 yards.

More often than not, Drake is trying to arrive at solutions to Diablo problems.

Drake: “It looks like a first down. Is that a first down? If they get the first down, Bill, tell the defense to look for a sweep right because they’ve been running to the right side on their first play all night long.”

Drake knows this because Bob Brucato, one of his spotters, is recording every Santa Ana play, looking for tendencies. The Saints are been making good yardage by running to the right side on first downs.

Drake tries to remain cool and analytical from his perch, but he remains no less a member of the team. When things go against the Diablos, he is as emotional as the players and coaches on the field.

Drake: “Is that penalty on us? How could they call that? How can they call holding on our defense on a sweep? Their guard pulled out and tackled our defensive end, for heaven’s sake! How could they call that?”

The press box in Santa Ana Stadium is out of earshot of the home crowd, but at many high school stadiums, open press boxes are just above the stands. More than one coach has silenced a crowd with vulgar language or with a tirade about a defensive end missing the quarterback on a sweep.

The toughest time for the assistant coach is after the other team scores. After Santa Ana’s first touchdown, Drake says: “Oh, (Bleep)!” After Santa Ana’s second and third touchdowns, he doesn’t say anything.

With 20 seconds left, the clock running, and Santa Ana ahead, 19-0, Drake and his spotters are resigned to accepting the outcome. They remove their headphones and head for the field.