CHARGERS ’90 : THE SACK MAN : Williams Is Rock in Dynamic Role

You won’t find a soft spot in his heart for the hot spots of the world. With trouble in the Persian Gulf, civil war in Sri Lanka, cocaine killings in Colombia and coup attempts in the Philippines, he’ll gladly be a goodwill ambassador here at home.

“I ain’t never been outside of the United States, and I ain’t never going outside of the United States,” said Charger defensive end Lee Williams.

A tendency to laugh must be muffled. Williams, all 6-feet-5 1/2, 280 pounds of him, is widely regarded as one of the best defensive ends in football--American-style. What could someone as imposing as this possibly be afraid of?

But Williams has never set foot on foreign soil, and claims he never will, because of his view of air safety outside the land of the free, the home of the brave.

“Terrorism on the airlines,” explained a xenophobic Williams. “I went to Hawaii, but I was in one of those big American planes.”

So if the Chargers ever decide to follow the NFL’s traveling roadshow to West Berlin, Tokyo or London, they had better check into the availability of cruise ships. Williams says he won’t be flying through skies he describes as unfriendly.

But Williams’ track record well affords him a little eccentricity. His six seasons here include asterisks by the past two, when he was a starter in consecutive Pro Bowls.

“I look at him as being the cornerstone of this outfit,” said Gunther Cunningham, Williams’ line coach throughout his Charger career. “I know we all kid among ourselves about how famous Leslie O’Neal and Burt Grossman are, but I still consider Lee as being the cornerstone of that defensive line.”

Williams led the AFC in sacks last year (14) and tied for second in 1988 (11). His 58 career sacks are second on the Charger all-time list behind Gary Johnson’s 67, and his 57 over the past five seasons are the most in the AFC and fourth in the NFL.

“He’s developed a lot in the past two or three years,” Cunningham said. “Before that, he worried about his own abilities and how he had to approach a game. He has more confidence now, and he’s much more willing to be a leader.”

This unwavering Rock of Gibraltar is depicted by coaches as teammates as adventuresome and fun-loving, and he is known for his creative storytelling as well. But it is an image Williams acknowledged the public knows little about. Instead, football fans see a brooding lineman with a scowl on his face and venom coursing through his veins.

“He likes that image of being a tough guy,” Cunningham said, “and he is. I don’t know if that will ever change. When he steps on the field, he’s wants you to know he means business, and he’s likely to tear you’re head off if he gets a chance. Will that ever change? Probably when he retires.”

Said Williams: “I don’t dislike (the image), but it’s not accurate. At least not off the field. I’m pretty easy-going off the field. But I try to keep my personal life and my football life separate.”

Williams may run down opposing quarterbacks with a fervor matched by few, but watch Williams the family man turn to putty with Brittani, he and wife Susie’s 3-year old.

“I’m not big on discipline,” he said. “She runs all over me. She gets everything she wants from me and then some. She’s winning that battle hands down. But we have a lot of fun.”

He has a good time with his brother, four sisters and his mother--his father died a few years ago--as well, and he sees them almost every day in the off-season. Since they can’t follow him around the country, they watch Charger games on a satellite dish from Williams’ home in Lauderhill, Fla.

“He’s very devoted,” Cunningham said. “He doesn’t like the preseason because he’s away from his family.”

According to Cunningham, Susie is one of Williams’ toughest football critics.

“(Lee) tells me that he catches hell from her after he catches it from me,” he said.

Nose tackle Joe Phillips has caught Williams telling some pretty tall tales. No one has actually seen his nose grow, but Williams has gained this reputation with stories such as the hair-bandit caper, in which someone was going around the country cutting locks from unsuspecting victims and driving off on a motorcycle with the hair blowing in the wind.

“He comes up with all these wild stories,” Phillips said. “I guess he watches CNN or something. His mind just runs. He’s an intelligent guy. The public doesn’t see that side of him because for whatever reason, he’s real quiet with the press.”

For the record, Cunningham said he read this year that the hair bandit was found and has been locked up.

So what gives, Lee? Why the Attila the Hun facade when you’re really the Court Jester?

“There’s a time to be serious about the job ahead,” Williams said, “but if you didn’t have your own time to joke around and ham it up with the boys, you’d probably lose your sanity because this is a very stressful occupation.

“It’s not always the way it appears to the average fan. A lot of guys come here with high hopes and leave with shattered dreams. In the course of training camp, you grow close to them or you play with a guy for three years, and you become like family, because this is a sport where you depend on one another. Then you look around, and they’re gone, with no future employment or salary, at least not at the level and the life style they’re accustomed to. That’s the down side of it. Having fun tends to alleviate that.”

Williams may have established himself as somewhat of a mischief-maker, but is also one of the fastest learners and hardest workers on the team.

“You don’t have to tell him things two or three times,” said Cunningham. “And he’s there every single day. He doesn’t miss a practice. You can count on him. That’s the greatest thing about him.”

Said Phillips: “He’s an intense player. He works real hard and takes a lot of punishment. He does what is asked of him. They want him to play tackle, he plays tackle; they want him to rush the passer, he rushes the passer; they want him to play the run, he plays the run. I have a world of respect for him.”

So does Kent Stephenson, the Seattle Seahawk’s offensive line coach who remembers Williams from the USFL.

“I saw him when I was with the (Michigan) Panthers and he was with the (LA) Express,” Stephenson said. “He’s done nothing but grow as a football player. He has great physical ability, and he’s in his prime right now.”

And primed to make opposing quarterback fear him. Williams said he lives for sacks--he has had three three-sack games with the Chargers--and he created a bit of a flap before the Chargers-San Francisco exhibition game when he said he would “tear off Joe Montana’s head.”

“I would never intentionally hurt anyone on the field,” he said.

Cunningham said Williams’ comments were blown out of proportion.

“I think Lee was kidding to a point,” he said, “but if he gets a shot at a quarterback, he’s going to take everything he’s got. This is a tough, tough league. If you stay close to what is going on, his is a macho position, but it’s not a macho talk position. The doers are the ones you respect. If you have the ability to talk and do, then you’re well respected.”

Said Stephenson: “We have great respect for him. He’s one of the premier guys we play.”

This premier guy is the same one who has loved to fish from childhood and recently developed a penchant for sailing. In 1987, he bought a 30-foot cabin cruiser and, on his third voyage from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., he had to be rescued by the U.S. Coast Guard.

It’s a story Cunningham loves to tell and Williams hates to hear.

“Why does he always tell that story?” Williams asked. “I’ll never tell that one again. Man, he told everybody.”

Cunningham is shaking his head.

“He’s out there in his boat,” he said. “And it doesn’t take long after he’s out there until he realizes he’s in trouble. So he radios in, and they ask him where he is. He tells them, ‘Well hell, if I knew where the hell I was, I wouldn’t be calling you. I’m somewhere out in the Atlantic Ocean.’ ”

As Williams tells it, 10 seconds after he and two friends launched the craft, the anchor line got wrapped in the propeller. Williams said he radioed for help.

By the time it arrived, “We must have drifted to Boca Raton (north of Ft. Lauderdale),” he said. “There was sheer panic on board. They started asking me all this seaworthy terminology. I didn’t know what the starboard and port side was. We were just out there, drifting away.”

On land, Williams’ footing is more solid . . . and steadily improving.

“He’s playing the best he’s ever played for us,” Cunningham said. “And he can get better.”

Alex Gibbs, Charger offensive line coach, said there isn’t a better inside pass-rusher in the NFL. What’s more, Williams added 15 pounds in the off-season, making him more effective against the run.

“He’s taking tackles and stuffing them in the back field,” Cunningham said. “I’m really proud of him in that area. He’s a much better run player. He’s better because he’s bigger, and he’s just as strong against the pass.”

For a man who described his greatest professional accomplishment as making the pro ranks as a defensive end, Williams takes limited pride in his Pro Bowl appearances.

“I don’t look at it as that big a deal,” he said. “Maybe it just hasn’t dawned on me. But I don’t think to me it will ever be. I like the idea of being respected by peers on this team and throughout the league. I get more gratification out of that than running around saying, ‘Yeah, I played two Pro Bowls.’ That does nothing for me.”

Williams’ comme ci, comme ca attitude toward fame is typical, according to Lloyd Johnson, athletic director at Bethune-Cookman College in Daytona Beach, where Williams went to college.

“He’s still the same as he was when he was a freshman here,” said Johnson. “He still knows where he came from.”

What Johnson remembers most about Williams is the sacrifice he made after his sophomore year, when he quit school for a semester and worked in order to put food on the family table.

“That stands out to me,” he said. “That he was willing to do that says a lot about the man. He’s not the same as other guys.”

It’s a little over a month since Williams (through Steve Feldman, then his agent) and the Chargers engaged in a public and well-documented contract dispute. The Chargers refused to renegotiate his contract although Williams contended that Steve Ortmayer, the team’s former general manager, had promised him a new one.

Williams said he finally reported to camp when he tired of all the attention.

“I know what (Ortmayer) said to me,” he said, “but I just got tired of picking up the paper every day and being in the middle of a controversy.”

Johnson asked if the dispute was settled, and if the Chargers gave Williams the extra money he wanted.

“No, not really,” he is told.

There is silence. And finally . . . “He doesn’t deserve to be kicked around,” Johnson said. “You take care of Lee, you hear?”