Assistants Are Often the Power Behind a Throne

One line they could have added to a high school football assistant coach’s job description: Being an assistant coach means never having to say you’re sorry . . . to the booster club.

Let the head coach explain why the team ran a draw on fourth and 12, why Tommy is playing instead of Richie. And let him deal with administrators, budgets and reporters.

“A head coach has to be more of a politician and be liked by everybody,” Crespi assistant Frank Bean said.

Bill Backstrom, coach at El Modena High, made the leap from defensive coordinator to head coach and has discovered aspects of the job that many lament. Aspects that many an assistant coach have considered in their decision to remain an assistant.

“I’m not able to work with kids on an individual basis anymore,” Backstrom said. “I miss that.”

So here are assistant coaches, content in the anonymity that allows them to concentrate on individuals.

“I would never want to do anything in football besides be an assistant,” said Dave Clark, offensive line coach at Mission Viejo. “I don’t want to worry about public relations, I just want to coach.”

They may just want to coach, but there are assistants, then there are assistants . Though they share the same title, there’s a big difference between the guy who returns to his alma mater after a knee injury to throw passes to running backs, and the Frank Beans of high school football.

Bean was an assistant coach with the Breakers of the United States Football League while they were in Boston, New Orleans and Portland. While in Boston and New Orleans, the Breakers also had an assistant named Bill Redell, now head coach at Crespi. Bean is no gimp trying to cling to past high school glory.

Although he admits that he may someday like to take the No. 1 job somewhere, he enjoys being an assistant.

“A lot of people just want to do their job and get home,” Bean said. “So much of it depends on who you work for. Bill and I are good friends, so it works out very well. He gives me a lot of freedom to do the things I feel are right. If you don’t agree with a head coach and what he’s doing, if you don’t have respect for him, it can be miserable.”

Ever heard of Brian Stiman? Probably not, but the name of Harry Welch is certainly familiar. Welch, of course, is coach at Canyon, the team with 43 straight victories. According to Welch, there would be no such streak without Stiman.

Said Welch: “Brian Stiman is more than my right-hand assistant. He is co-coach. Wherever a weakness is every year, Brian is assigned to that part of the team.”

It’s the same at Granada Hills, where assistant Tom Harp has carte blanche over the offense and Coach Darryl Stroh runs the defense. “Sometimes, I think Harp has as much impact on the program as Darryl,” said a rival Valley 4-A League coach.

Ben Haley and Bob Salerno are defensive coordinators--Haley at Santa Ana, Salerno at Foothill. Each may be described as the power behind the throne. Indeed, Ted Mullen, coach at Foothill, seems embarrassed to label Salerno an assistant.

“For all practical purposes, this team has two head coaches,” Mullen said.

Haley has been with his present boss and best friend, Dick Hill, for 26 years.

“I’m closer to Dick than I am to my own brother,” Haley said.

Hill and Haley have won Southern Section championships at Santa Ana Valley and Santa Ana.

“When Dick retires, I retire.” Haley said. “It’s already been set up.”

Hill said: “I count myself absolutely lucky to have Ben. When you know and respect a man as well, you can communicate thoughts without words. I don’t think either of us could do without that. That’s why we’re leaving together.”

Haley and his wife, Inez, Hill and his wife, Jackie, even take vacations together, though Ben and Dick’s first meeting, as players at Pepperdine in the early ‘50s, was less than spectacular. “Actually, I didn’t like Dick at first,” Haley said. “I thought he was a little too cocky.”

But when Hill asked Haley to join his staff at Santa Ana Valley in 1959, Haley jumped. Haley describes Hill as a no-nonsense man who doesn’t mince words.

“I respect Dick as a boss,” said Haley, who lists loyalty as the key ingredient for an assistant coach. “But I’ve never felt subservient to him. On defense, I know, I’m my own boss.”

Salerno said of Mullen: “We respect each other a lot. I take care of my side of the ball. Whatever decisions I make are accepted. I’ve never felt pressure from our friendship to change.

Times staff writers Steve Henson and Dave Desmond contributed to this story.