This Coach Became the Pride of Fleet : Novice Marc Salazar Was Another Lombardi as Far as the Knights Were Concerned

Fleet is a small village, tucked neatly away in Hampshire, England, about a 25-minute drive from London. It has four pubs where residents often warm their bones with a pint on cold, rainy nights, perhaps while playing a spot of snooker, darts or bar billiards.

Fleet has one main street, one train station, was mentioned once in a best-selling novel and, until Marc Salazar left to return to San Diego last month, had one genuine American football coach.

So begins the tale of the Farnham Knights, an American football team based in the town that bears its name, a few miles from Fleet. The Knights’ seed was sown in Fleet, written about in Stephen King’s novel “It” and the place Salazar lived while stationed in England as a security policeman in the U.S. Air Force.

A couple of enthusiastic Fleet locals decided to form a football team one day after developing an interest watching NFL highlights on television every Sunday night. So they came knocking at Salazar’s door a few days before Christmas in 1984. And a coach was born.

Salazar grew up in San Diego, played Pop Warner football, was an offensive lineman for 3 years at Kearny High (he was Marc Atkinson at Kearny and has since changed his name) and played on the Air Force base football team in England.

His only coaching experience was with Little League baseball, but when Roger Hart and his friend, Terry Milward, set out to find someone who could teach them football, American style, they weren’t too choosy. Salazar--at 6-feet 3-inches, 231 pounds--looked the part, at least to Hart, who is 5-7, 165, and Milward, who is about 5-2, 120.

“We worked on the principle that if we knocked on enough Americans’ doors, we’d eventually find one who knew something about football,” Hart said by telephone from his home outside of Farnham. “It worked. We were lucky.”

The beginnings were humble. Salazar, Hart and nine others met in the showroom of an auto dealership one night and laid down the plans. Salazar told the group he would spend 8 weeks helping teach fundamentals until the team found a permanent coach. Flyers were distributed, radio announcements made, and eventually, 40 curious men showed up to give this Yankee sport a go.

Football in England is played for love, not money. As is common on most teams, each Knight purchased his own equipment for between 300 and 350 pounds (approximately $500), a significant amount considering England’s small salaries.

“They make peanuts,” said Salazar, whose team included a milkman, a hairdresser, aircraft engineers, bricklayers and bank workers. “The British wages are nothing like American wages.”

Among the group were four professional rugby players who figured any sport that requires all that padding should come with a sign reading “For Sissies Only.” Their skepticism changed quickly to enthusiasm after they knocked heads on the football field for a few days. Three of the four, all paid to play rugby, quit their teams, took regular jobs and joined the Knights.

“They wanted nothing more to do with rugby,” Salazar said. “They realized that the game was much more physical than rugby. In rugby, since nobody is wearing pads, everybody realizes that if two guys run at each other full speed they’re going to kill one another. So they have to slow down.”

Initially, Salazar found it difficult teaching aggressiveness to his players, who were basically very gentlemen-like. The concept of hating a member of another team just because he was wearing a different color uniform was foreign to them. Players were used to playing soccer or rugby and then spending the rest of the evening partying with the opposition in the local pubs. Salazar didn’t allow that.

“I’m not into beating the hell out of somebody and then saying, ‘Let’s go party with them,’ ” he said.

About the time the Knights began to grasp the concept and fundamentals of football, Salazar decided he didn’t want anyone toying with his creation. So he stayed and became head coach. To do so, he sacrificed sleep, putting in many long hours at the base by night and devising defensive schemes and blocking patterns by day.

Salazar has never been one to shy from a difficult task. He admits that at Kearny, he wasn’t a natural athlete. In fact, he was a little clumsy. But he worked and listened until he got things right.

The archives of childhood memories provides a short story that shows he developed persistence early. At 5, Marc says, he missed the school bus one day. Instead of returning home, he decided to hike. He followed the bus route, walking up and down dead end streets and back to the main road. School was only a mile and a half away, but Marc wound up covering 6 miles. He arrived 10 minutes before school ended.

Things were done with the same zealousness in Farnham, but more efficiently. In 1987, in the Knights’ second year of competition, the team stomped through the league and widened some eyes, compiling a 10-0 regular-season record. Then, battered from a long season and a lack of depth, the Knights stumbled in the playoffs, losing to Ashton, the eventual champions.

No matter. The players had become heroes, the pride of that particular neck of the Commonwealth. The Sunday Standard, a local newspaper, printed stories highlighting Farnham’s meteoric rise to the top and analyzed how to play the game properly.

“Everyone out there has a job to do,” Hart was quoted as saying in one story, “and if you muck up, you let the whole team down.”

During the past 5 years, much of England has caught the football bug. There are 186 teams in two major divisions. Youth programs have been organized. And football is watched nearly as intently there as it is in the U.S. The Super Bowl drew approximately 14.5 million viewers last year even though it was aired live . . . the telecast starting just after midnight and finishing around 4:30 a.m. American football has become a refreshing change from soccer, which has been dampened in recent years by crowd riots.

“There’s so much violence associated with (soccer) now that people are afraid to take their families,” Salazar said. “People are literally murdered at these matches. So finally what ends up happening is the families are looking for something else to do, someplace else to go. With (football), as far as they see it, all the violence happens on the field, and everybody is friends after the game.”

Salazar didn’t wind up friendly with everybody. In 1986, before the team’s first year of competition, the board of directors for the Knights’ league decided to put them in Division II, the lowest level. Salazar took one look at the teams Farnham would play and decided the season would be a waste of time. So, in no uncertain terms, he told the board his team belonged in a tougher division. He mentioned something about Farnham winning every game by 40 or more points. And the board members took exception.

“They were all British on the board,” Salazar said. “They didn’t like an American talking to them like that.”

So, deciding to teach this upstart a lesson, the board moved Farnham to Division I and restructured several leagues to put the Knights in with the toughest competition England could offer. Fine, responded Salazar to the director of the board: “We’ll come home with a 5 and 5 record.”

Dryly, the director responded: “I’d be very surprised if you won more than two games.”

Farnham’s record? Five and 5.

No team blew out the Knights, either. Their worst loss was 19-9 to Chelmsford, the eventual division champions. And Salazar says his biggest worries weren’t created by the opposing teams but rather by referees who had no idea what they were doing.

During one game, a Farnham opponent ran a sweep. The runner was knocked out of bounds and then, 3 or 4 yards beyond the sideline, was leveled by another Farnham player. The referee didn’t throw a flag.

“I was standing right there and I started jumping up and down,” Salazar said. “I said ‘Hey, what about this? Come on, this is ridiculous.’ My own team committed a foul, and I was screaming at this guy to throw a flag. I mean this was blatant. I didn’t want one of my guys on the other side getting murdered in the same way.”

A flag was eventually thrown. But not for a late hit. Salazar was assessed a personal foul for screaming at the referee. So the result was the same.

“Basically,” Salazar said, shaking his head. “But not for the right reason.”

Though Salazar might not have had an exemplary record with the referees, his coaching reputation in England was tops. After the Knights’ 10-1 season, he was offered money to coach other teams. But he remained loyal to Farnham and, after finding his stay in England would be extended 7 months, spent his final season in 1988 playing and coaching. The Knights finished 6-4, competing in the toughest division yet.

Farnham currently is preparing for its fourth season and will be coached by Frank Snyder, Salazar’s assistant for two seasons. Salazar, 25, is back in San Diego for a brief visit before heading to Abilene, Tex., where he will be stationed. He hopes to continue his coaching at the high school level.

Leaving the team he built from the ground up was difficult, Salazar said, but he will always have the memories. Highlights of his stay are recorded for posterity in two scrapbooks his players presented to him before he left.

In one picture, Salazar is being handed the award for his selection as Coach of the Week. A check? Nope. A trophy? Hardly. A bottle of Jack Daniels. Yes, thanks. Pass it around, said the players.

“That Jack Daniels,” Salazar said, “made it one time around the room.”

One memory not in the scrapbook is described by Hart as the night Salazar left the pub without his trousers. While the Knights were celebrating the forthcoming marriage of a team member, Salazar became the target of a practical joke and was separated from his pants after being pushed out into the street.

Before picking up his pants and leaving, Salazar issued a warning.

“I told them there always comes a day.”

After the next practice, he singled out the players involved and made them run. And run. And run. Until they dropped.

“I had guys throwing up and everything,” Salazar says with a touch of glee in his voice. “Needless to say, it never happened again. You don’t mess with someone who controls your life for any amount of time.”

If Salazar never returns to coach in England, he can be sure of one thing--he won’t be forgotten.

“Without Marc Salazar,” Hart said, “we wouldn’t have the Farnham Knights.”

And without the Farnham Knights, Salazar might never have been in the spotlight, or been asked for his autograph or been recognized on the street for his achievements.

“As a kid, you always dream of being famous,” Salazar said. “I had my time. I was famous for 2 1/2 years, and I really enjoyed it.”