Rams Won’t Rush to Meet Bell’s Demands

Memo to Ram running back Greg Bell:

Purchase a roll of duct tape. Snip off a generous supply of said tape. Apply tape to mouth. Keep it there. Forever.

Voila! --a career saved.

Bell, you see, has this itsy-bitsy problem, mainly, he thinks free enterprise is alive and well in the National Football League. He thinks if you finish fourth in the league in rushing, as Bell did last season, finish first in touchdowns, first in points scored, average more than four yards per carry and catch 24 passes, that you’re entitled to a hefty raise. He thinks the Rams should place him among the league’s elite runners--just behind Eric Dickerson, Herschel Walker and Roger Craig--and pay him accordingly. He also thinks the Rams are losing sleep over his recently declared contract holdout.

Follow-up memo to Bell:

Wake up and smell the unemployment line. The Rams could care less about your no-show status. Lose sleep? Not a wink’s worth.

As for free enterprise and fair market value . . . save it for your master’s thesis, Greg. The next time Ram management will push for fair market value is the day Georgia Frontiere decides to sell the franchise. Until then, they’ve got you.

You say you rushed for 1,212 yards in 1988.

The Rams say they’ve got Gaston Green, the No. 1 choice that year, primed and ready for a 1,000-plus season.

You say you’ve seen your share of college phenoms come and go.

The Rams say that even if Green gags, they’ve still got a proven runner in Robert Delpino and another No. 1 choice, Cleveland Gary, waiting in the wings.

You say the Rams should be more like the Raiders and not settle for second best.

The Rams say the Raiders have missed the playoffs each of the past three seasons and have a 20-27 record to show for the Al Davis philosophy. Meanwhile, the Rams have advanced to the playoffs two of the past three years and own a 26-21 record.

You say you’re worth about $950,000 per year, but you’ll settle for blue-light-special numbers: about $750,000.

The Rams say they’ll give you a two-year deal that includes an annual salary of $400,000 and another $150,000 per season in incentive clauses. And that’s only because they’re in a good mood.

Back and forth it goes. Point, counterpoint. But this much is known: Bell won’t-- can’t --win this untimely battle against the Rams. He’s fighting management with a rubber knife and a cap gun. The Rams have an arsenal that includes arrogance, draft choices galore, time and history.

So what does Bell do? He barks into a stiff wind.

“The Rams will consistently win 10, 11 games a season,” Bell recently told The Times’ Chris Dufresne. “But will you hear from them? For many years, the Rams have been eating half the pie. It takes a whole pie to fill you up.”

And only the slightest bit of indigestion to make the Rams burp Bell from their season plans.

Bell, no matter how much the Rams downplayed his accomplishments in 1988, had a wonderful year. He gained those 1,212 yards despite getting 10 carries or less in three of the Rams’ 16 regular-season games. He played hurt--sort of a first for Bell. And when Coach John Robinson kept him on the bench at times, in favor of Charles White, Bell kept his mouth shut, perhaps the most remarkable achievement of all.

“You know what?” he said at the time. “I try not to analyze the situation. If you get yourself in that situation, you probably do yourself more harm because you’re frustrated when you’re not getting in, or you’re not doing the things that you want to do. I’ll just leave the controversy alone and do what I do best, and that’s to be prepared to play.”

Too bad he forgot his own best advice when determining his salary strategy for 1989. Rather than walk softly, Bell talked loudly. And for publication, too, which is great for readers but lousy for building bridges of understanding with the people who sign his paycheck. The Rams were plenty steamed about Bell’s comments, enough so that Robinson summoned the running back to the Rams Park offices recently for a closed-door lecture session. Bell reportedly left the meeting with powder burns on his ears.

As a five-year veteran, Bell should know by now that the NFL is a strange place to earn a living. The laws of supply and demand are often suspended. Twenty-eight general managers control the fate of almost 1,000 players. League rules are such that players rarely can determine their own futures. Now add the peculiar idiosyncrasies of a team such as the Rams and you can better understand Bell’s problem.

Bell wants more money. Lots. The Rams, dealing from a position of power and experience, have said no. This leaves Bell with two choices: compromise or pout.

Bell pouted and now might be on the verge of disappearing from the Ram active roster. He is the holdout that no one in Ram management seems to care much about. Truth is, the Rams didn’t particularly want him in the first place; they took him off Buffalo’s hands only after the Bills promised to pay part of his salary. And never once during the 1988 season did Robinson do cartwheels over Bell’s touchdown parade.

The Rams aren’t hurting for running backs. Even if they were, history has taught us that the regime of Ram vice president John Shaw doesn’t take kindly to blustery demands. Dickerson held his breath until his goggles fogged up, but it didn’t get him a raise from the Rams. It did, however, get him sent to another team, which is Plan B, according to Bell.

The problem with all this is that Bell isn’t Dickerson. Not even close. Nor are the circumstances similar. Back then, Dickerson could claim he was the entire Ram offense. Bell can’t even claim to be the opening-game starting halfback.

Wide receiver Henry Ellard tried a contract holdout in 1986; it didn’t work. Receiver Ron Brown announced his “retirement” after a negotiating stalemate with the Rams last year. He begged back later that season after an unsuccessful try at the U.S. Olympic track team.

But unlike Brown, Bell can’t run track. All he can do is bluff with five of the lousiest cards you’ve ever seen.