No. 14 by Any Other Number Would Have Played as Sweetly

“You mean after all these years, it’s going to come out?” laughed Sid Brooks, the Chargers’ equipment man. “OK, so I made a rookie mistake.”

The year was 1973, and Sid Brooks was a rookie equipment man.

Another rookie also joined the Chargers that year. He was a quarterback from Oregon, drafted in the third round with a choice acquired from Atlanta through Oakland for a running back named Jeff Queen.

One of Brooks’ chores was to assign numbers to new players. He gave No. 14 to the kid from Oregon.

Dan Fouts.

Neither Brooks nor any future Charger equipment man again will assign No. 14, because it is to be retired at halftime of today’s game with the San Francisco 49ers.

Of course, this is not the end of the story.

It has to do with another rookie quarterback who reported to the Chargers in 1973. His name was Tony Adams, and he was a 14th-round pick from Utah State.

Sid Brooks gave him No. 11.

Dan Fouts’ real number.

Huh?

Dan Fouts wore No. 11 at Oregon . . . and Tony Adams wore No. 11 at Utah State.

“It was a rookie mistake,” Brooks said again. “Dan was drafted higher, but . . . “

Let Fouts himself get his old friend off the hook.

“Naturally,” he said, “I was a holdout. Since I wasn’t there yet, and Tony Adams wore No. 11, he got No. 11.”

Learning quickly when to hesitate to make a point, the rookie broadcaster leaned back with a whimsical look in his eye.

“But,” he said, “I got the job.”

And I don’t really get the impression that Fouts is particularly superstitious about what number he happens to be wearing.

By his own account, a chronology of his numbers goes like this:

He wore No. 10 in the seventh grade, No. 14 (aha!) in the eighth grade, No. 11 his freshman year of high school, No. 10 his sophomore through senior years of high school, No. 15 as an Oregon freshman and No. 11 his sophomore through senior years at Oregon.

“I wanted to be No. 10 in college,” he said, “but a redshirt freshman named Harvey Winn already had that number.”

And so he wanted to be No. 10 but got No. 11, and then wanted No. 11 but got No. 14 . . . but even that was not until after he had been given No. 18 in the Chargers’ springtime minicamp after the draft.

“Marty Domres wore No. 14 the year before,” Fouts mused. “I think they gave it to me because it was lying around. I don’t think they went out and printed up new numbers like now.”

And so it was that the Chargers are retiring No. 14 today.

“We could have been retiring No. 11,” Brooks said, “if I hadn’t . . . “

Never mind, Sid, it was not a rookie mistake. It was enlightened. In these parts, No. 14 and Dan Fouts are inseparable . . . with apologies to Carmelo Martinez and Valentine’s Day.

A few years ago, the telephone company even got into the act. They retired 714 hereabouts. I presume the “7” was for touchdowns, and we all know about the “14.” Somehow, Fouts and touchdowns never seemed to be far apart.

The thing about occasions such as this is that the number, in all reality, is a prop.

And what we’re talking is not retirement. We’re talking preservation.

That’s right.

We’re talking the preservation of memories.

Dan Fouts.

Tough. (You had to see him with the ice bags on Monday morning . . . or the blood on his jersey Sunday afternoon.)

Resourceful.

Intelligent.

Brusque. ( You interview him after a loss to the Raiders.)

Calm.

Confident. (Yes, cocky, too.)

Mischievous. (Why would a quarterback be in a special teams meeting if he wasn’t there to needle the kicker?)

Loyal. (Ask teammates and coaches, not owners.)

Appreciative.

Modest.

A whole lot of what this is all about, and I suspect Fouts is with me on this, is the recognition of an era and the people who made it special. Dan Fouts and the No. 14 are vehicles for this recognition.

“Everybody,” he said, “wants me to come up with an all-time highlight, one play or one game. I can’t do that. It’s not one play or one game. It’s the people who made those plays or played those games I’ll remember.”

Players such as Ed White, Doug Wilkerson, Wes Chandler, John Jefferson, Kellen Winslow, Louie Kelcher, Billy Shields, Don Macek, Charlie Joiner and Russ Washington. This is my list, not Fouts’. His would run off the page.

And coaches such as Don Coryell, Ernie Zampese, Joe Gibbs and Jim Hanifan. Again, the list is mine and is undoubtedly much too short.

This was a special era in Charger football.

And Dan Fouts will stand on the field today to represent himself, his teammates and an era.

“I’m going to be very happy,” he said, “and that’s going to be my rock to fall back on.”

There have been many emotional moments in Mission Valley for Dan Fouts, but all of the others have been in the heat of battle. The spotlight, to be sure, has always been on him . . . but never quite like this.

“I won’t need a script,” he said. “The stadium is my script. There’s not an inch of that turf that isn’t familiar to me. There won’t be a face in the stands I’ll feel like I haven’t seen. I’ll feel like I know them all.”

Sid Brooks will be there too, of course. After all, they were rookies together. There won’t be any mistakes now, because there weren’t any mistakes then.

Sid Brooks knew all along how special Dan Fouts would become. He knew the number wouldn’t make a bit of difference.