UNDER PRESSURE : New Coaches of Premier Programs May Face No-Win Situations

Bruce Rollinson thought he knew the risks when he took the the job.

Last December, Rollinson was asked to take over the Mater Dei High School football program, replacing Chuck Gallo. For more than two years, Gallo had been under pressure from parents and alumni to win . . . and win a lot. When he didn’t, petitions were circulated for his removal, negative critiques were passed along to school administrators and general criticism prevailed in the stands.

The Monarchs finished the season 6-6, losing in the second round of the playoffs to Loyola. That record might not sound all that bad, but it wasn’t good enough for Mater Dei.

A week after Christmas, Gallo was fired.

In an effort to put the program on a higher road, school officials turned to Rollinson. They held a news conference and announced that Rollinson would, “issue in a new, yet not-so-new era of Monarch football.”

After all, this guy was one of Mater Dei’s own. He had been a teacher at the school for the past 12 years and was a member of the Monarchs’ Southern Section championship team in 1965--the last Mater Dei team to win a title.

Rollinson had even played for two victorious Rose Bowl teams at USC. Winning was something instilled in him.

Now, it would be required.

But fanfare has given way to reality for Rollinson, who is finding there are some not-so-new expectations that come with running a premier program.

“Parents have told me, ‘We’re really behind you; we’ve heard good things about you; our son is really happy . . . but you are going to win, right?’ ” Rollinson said. “It’s always like a parting shot.”

Rollinson is not alone. Programs that have been successful generate a lot of interest . . . and pressure to succeed.

And a new coach, who is trying to continue or restore that level of success, can find himself in a situation where he might not be able to win. On the field or off.

Most coaches agree that there are more positive things inherent in a program where expectations are high. Yet, none delude themselves into thinking that a few untimely losses won’t turn all that support into a negative force.

Marty McWhinney was well-acquainted with great expectations when he was hired as the football coach at Foothill. In 1970, McWhinney replaced Ernie Johnson at El Rancho. Johnson had won one Southern Section Major Division championship and finished second once.

“At El Rancho, we won three league championships and some people felt that wasn’t good enough,” McWhinney said. “People get spoiled when the team wins year in and year out. But sometimes you get kids who just are not quite as talented.”

McWhinney felt he was prepared for the parental pressure that could accompany the Foothill job. He already heard about the petitions to fire Jerry Howell, who coached the Knights in 1987 and ’88 before resigning.

He was a little surprised, though, by some of the faculty at Foothill.

“I was at a staff meeting the other day and everyone was anxious for the season to begin,” he said. “They said, ‘Good luck, we’ll be there Friday night.’ And then some asked, ‘So, are we going to beat Tustin?’

“I can understand that, though. When the football team does well it kind of sets the tone for the entire school year. It makes for a good atmosphere.”

Foothill has had a dominate program during much of the past decade. The Knights won one Southern Conference title and finished as the runner-up twice. But the Foothill program that McWhinney took over this season hadn’t had a winning season in two years.

“It’s not the same school it was 10 years ago when they had 2,000 students,” McWhinney said. “We have about 1,300 students now. That’s a tremendous drop-off in kids.”

McWhinney says parents sometimes fail to realize why a program has slipped and so they often focus on the easiest target--the coach.

“The winning tradition is nice, but you have to have the talent, too,” he said.

Still, McWhinney feels that it’s better to take over a program that is actively supported, especially by the parents.

“Parents keep a program going,” McWhinney said. “They sell programs and work in the concession stands at games. And they help with fund-raisers. I’ve found that everyone is anxious to help here. Sure, they may get disappointed when we don’t win, but the positives by far outweigh the negatives.”

Sometimes, that support, while welcome, can be almost overwhelming.

Just ask Gary Salazar, first-year tennis coach at Corona del Mar. He arrived on campus to find parents falling all over each other to help.

Salazar replaced Dave Heffern, who had resigned, as the Sea Kings’ boys’ and girls’ tennis coach. Both programs were successful under Heffern, with each winning one Southern Section 4-A championship.

So Salazar expected a good turnout when he scheduled a parents’ meeting for the girls’ team at his house. But he was stunned when 80 parents crowded into his living room.

“They were offering to do the (postseason) banquet and started organizing a refreshment committee for our matches,” he said. “Talk about a good working relationship.”

But what happens if this team losses a couple?

“Talk to me in three weeks,” Salazar said.

Most coaches agree that it’s the parents--and their sometimes unrealistic optimism--that can cause a coach the most grief.

“You want parent involvement, but you want it as parents,” said Larry Toner, who is the third football coach in as many years at Servite.

“You don’t want, ‘My son is a player, play him.’ What you want is, ‘Here’s my son. Please coach him. Do him no harm. Then, give him back to me.’ ”

Toner said that when he was hired last summer, boosters didn’t talk about wins and losses. Instead, they assured him all they wanted was a disciplined, fundamentally sound football program.

“They were interested more in the traditional values of the program,” Toner said.

But at Servite, winning is a tradition. And, make no mistake, it’s valued.

Ron Smeltzer said that when he was the Servite coach, he was told, “Don’t buy a house.” So much for job security.

After Smeltzer won back-to-back Southern Section titles, Servite fans nearly wept when he accepted an assistant coaching position with a Canadian Football League team.

Leo Hand replaced Smeltzer in 1984, but resigned prior to last season after much turmoil. Petitions demanding his removal were circulated, booster club meetings became an ordeal and he even had to endure crank telephone calls. “They were trying to make me sound like an incompetent and unwholesome person,” Hand said.

Jerry Pearson replaced Hand as interim coach and guided the Friars to a 10-3 season. Servite reached the semifinals of the Division I playoffs before losing to Fountain Valley. But Pearson wasn’t retained. Instead, the school hired Toner to restore tradition.

“Naturally, you want to win. That’s why you watch hours and hours of film,” Toner said. “But there are people who want to beat St. Paul, ‘no matter what.’ I want to beat St. Paul, but not, ‘no matter what.’ That’s the tail wagging the dog.”

What concerns many coaches is that the desire for success may undermine the priorities of education. The trick, they say, is to not let the eagerness to win become the dominant goal for the student-athlete.

“We want to develop the kid spiritually and academically, and then athletically,” Rollinson said. “If the other goals are accomplished, then the record becomes secondary. Our goal is not to walk out and say, ‘We’re champions, but at what cost?’ ”

Other Mater Dei coaches have had the same philosophy in the past. Yet the last two--Gallo and Wayne Cochrun--still felt pressure to win. And win big.

Cochrun, now the coach at Rubidoux, had a 44-38-2 record during eight seasons. He also won two titles in the always-tough Angelus League.

And still, he was criticized at times.

“It got to the point where we won, but it wasn’t pretty enough or we didn’t win by a big enough margin,” Cochrun said. “People got pretty vocal in the stands and that really bothered my wife. I finally told her to go sit on the other side.”

Rollinson said that he has tried to keep an open line of communication with boosters, who view him as a link to to the Monarchs’ glory teams of the 1960s. He has also tried to get parents involved in more positive ways with activities that involve the players’ families.

“What I’m trying to do is sell my personality to these people,” he said. “I try to show them that I’m not like the guy before me. I skin the cat differently.”

To prove his point, Rollinson has made some subtle changes.

The Mater Dei helmets are red this season instead of silver, just as they were when Rollinson played. He even had the players pose for photographs in the old jerseys, although they still play in the newer uniforms.

However, Rollinson is not promising a return to the years when Mater Dei was annually considered a favorite to win the Southern Section championship. He reminds people that it’s more difficult to dominate today than it was 20 years ago.

“Back then, if you took a close look at our schedule, we only had three or four difficult games every year,” Rollinson said. “We knew we were going to war with St. Paul and Servite. Santa Ana and Santa Ana Valley were usually tough, too. But we were also playing a lot of schools like Cantwell, where we got to rest our starters. Now, we have an incredibly tough schedule.”

Still, Rollinson knows what’s expected of him.

“People keep telling me that Mater Dei is the Notre Dame of high school football,” he said.

“I certainly don’t want to be the Gerry Faust.”