BOOMER ANGST : Anguish of ’87 Left Behind by Bengals’ Esiason

Just from the way he strode to the mound, the coaches could tell this kid knew he belonged.

And when he stood on the mound and started firing fastballs, they thought he just might belong.

It had been another lazy day last spring at the Milwaukee Brewers’ training complex in Chandler, Ariz., when this kid appeared and asked for a tryout.

Because somebody knew somebody, it was worked out, and suddenly, there he was, all 6 feet 4 inches and 220 pounds of him, standing on a warmup mound, causing both the speed guns and the coaches to buzz.

Who is this guy, a real-life Sidd Finch? they wondered.

Could you throw a little bit more? one coach asked.

“You saw it, buddy,” snapped the kid. “You want to sign me? Sign me.”

Not exactly the attitude you want in your young phenom, but the Milwaukee brain trust gathered around was not about to be discouraged.

“Well, what do you want to sign?” another coach asked.

“Hey, I don’t need this,” the kid barked. “I got a deal in Cincinnati. I could go to Cincinnati and they’d pay me $1.2 million a year.”

Who in the heck did this kid think he was?

A minute later, the coaches found out when the gag was revealed.

This kid does get $1.2 million a year from Cincinnati to fire fastballs with that talented arm. Not from the Cincinnati Reds, but from the Cincinnati Bengals.

Gentlemen, meet Boomer Esiason, former pitching phenom for East Islip High School on Long Island and now one of the top quarterbacks in the National Football League.

Esiason, who had come to the Brewers’ camp to visit a friend, had decided to have a little fun.

Does that seem a long way to go for a joke?

When you consider the year Esiason had suffered through in Cincinnati, he couldn’t go far enough.

As a matter of fact, when the final gun sounded on the 1987 season, Esiason unstrapped his helmet and strapped up his suitcase. He and his wife, Cheryl, own a home in Villa Hills, Ky., just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati, but he wanted no part of it last spring. Instead, he was on the road 4 of the 6 months until it was time to report to the Bengals’ training camp.

“I just wanted to get the hell out of here, to tell you the truth,” he said.

The 1987 season had appeared to hold nothing but promise for Esiason. A second-round draft choice in 1984, Esiason won the Bengals’ starting job in ’85 and quickly used his size, arm-strength and mobility to establish himself as a top quarterback.

He completed 58.2% of his passes that first full year, throwing 27 for touchdowns, with only 12 interceptions. A year later, he had the same completion percentage and 24 scoring passes, including 5 in one game against the New York Jets, along with 17 interceptions.

He could be as outrageous with his mouth as with his arm, but nobody seemed to mind.

It’s a role he was born to play. Almost literally.

When he was still in the womb, he kicked a lot. At the time, his father was at Columbia University, where the football team had a kicker named Boomer.

By the time Norman Julius Esiason was born, the nickname was his.

Norman Juliuses can be unassuming. Not so Boomers.

It all worked out pretty well until last year. Then it seemed to unravel all at once.

The Bengals won their opener but lost the second game to the San Francisco 49ers in the closing seconds when they gave up the ball on a questionable coaching decision by the head man, Sam Wyche.

That put the fans in an ugly mood, and things got a lot uglier a week later when the NFL strike started.

Fiercely loyal to those friends and causes he believes in, Esiason didn’t just sit out the dispute quietly. He doesn’t do anything quietly. He spoke out, he picketed and he even lay down in front of a bus carrying replacement players.

He paid the price, both in salary--the strike cost him $300,000--and in fan support.

He was booed when the strike ended and booed when the Bengals’ troubles continued on the field. He was even booed in a game at Riverfront Stadium in which he threw for 409 yards.

“If I’m not wanted, I sure as hell don’t want to be here,” he said at the time. “Get me out of here.”

The Bengals finished 4-11. Fade out on a nightmare.

Fade in on a dream.

When the Bengals take the field Sunday at the Coliseum to meet the Raiders, they do so as one of three unbeaten teams in the league at 4-0.

And guess who arrives as the NFL’s top-rated quarterback at 104.7? Why the much-booed Boomer, of course. He has already completed 60 of 108 passes for 1,040 yards and 9 touchdowns, and has had only 3 picked off.

“I heard a lot of negative things about us on the road in the off-season,” Esiason said. “This is what is making me motivated to have a good year with the team. When you read the preseason picks and everybody says it’s the Bungles and Sam Wyche should get fired, you get tired of hearing all that stuff.

“One of the reasons I was traveling was just to put all of the bad feelings that took place last year out of my mind and mentally get myself alert for this year.”

Still, Esiason arrived in camp with his spirit unbroken. When center Dave Rimington, a close friend, was made an ex-Bengal during the exhibition season, Esiason wore Rimington’s jersey number one day in protest.

When Denver Broncos Coach Dan Reeves referred to Esiason as a left-handed John Elway, Esiason snapped back, “Maybe John Elway’s a right-handed Boomer Esiason.”

It may be hard to detect, but Esiason is more serious this year. He has quit as the NFL Players Assn. representative from the Bengals. He’s tempering all the elation over the fast start, warning fans and teammates alike about getting too high. And he’s playing the game as well as ever.

Besides, what the heck. If it doesn’t work out, he knows he can get a job with the Milwaukee Brewers.