Wyche Accustomed to Controversy : Football: The Bengals’ impassioned coach has been through the media’s three-ring circus a number of times.

Sam Wyche--the man who wears a Cincinnati Bengals’ logo on his hat and his heart on his sleeve--is making headlines again.

And he thought the media scrutiny had reached its peak in 1987, when he called a sweep to run out the last six seconds of a game against the 49ers. James Brooks was thrown for a loss on the play and Joe Montana threw a touchdown pass with two seconds left to beat the Bengals.

This time, however, the impassioned Bengal coach has touched off a debate that has gone far beyond the sports pages. Wyche is accustomed to dealing with Sports Illustrated and ESPN, but now he’s under fire in Time magazine and on “Nightline.”

Wyche barred a female reporter, USA Today’s Denise Tom, from the Bengals’ locker room Monday night after Cincinnati lost to Seattle. Friday, he found out it cost him about $30,000, the largest fine levied against an NFL coach.

But before dismissing Wyche as nothing but a macho Neanderthal, consider:

--This is a man who often drives his children, Zak, 19, and Kerry, 17, through the inner-city wastelands of Cincinnati to remind them just how lucky they are.

--This is a man who still has the cat he rescued from the grip of a boy who was swinging it by the tail during one of those trips.

--This is a man who assigned black and white players as roommates in training camp in 1988.

--This is a man who not only finds time, even during the NFL season, to raise money for Cincinnati’s homeless (he donates the revenues from his $5,000-a-pop speaking engagements), but he also finds the time on Saturdays before home games to pass out blankets and clothing at a shelter.

Wyche is certainly complex. To some, he’s one of the most innovative, bold, dynamic coaches in the game. Others say he’s a bit schizophrenic. Perhaps the nickname pinned on him by a Pittsburgh Steeler assistant--”Wicky Wacky Wyche”--says it best.

Maybe most coaches and members of the media agree that the current system of postgame locker-room interviews works. Maybe most think shy players can almost always preserve their modesty by employing a well-placed towel. And maybe most coaches just accept these kinds of league policies, preferring to spend their time worrying about Xs and O’s.

Not Wyche, who says he has received a lot of complaints from his players who don’t feel comfortable unclothed in the company of women other than their wives. And if Wyche is anything, he’s loyal. He sticks by his players . . . even when he has no good reason to.

He once questioned police tactics in searching a player (even though they discovered a concealed weapon). And he once slammed the locker-room door on the hand of a deputy sheriff who was trying to serve papers on a Bengal player in 1985.

So now Wyche has decided to divert some of his considerable energies and intellect in an attempt to revise the rules about women in the work/showering/dressing place.

“First of all, believe me, at the time it happened, I had no idea there was anything to it,” Wyche said. “I didn’t even know this was an incident until after I started getting phone calls that lasted until 2 a.m. I wasn’t trying to skirt any rules, confront anyone or make any statements.”

Wyche says he was merely attempting to protect the privacy of his players and at the same time ensure Tom got the opportunity to talk to any player she wanted to. He says she only requested to interview quarterback Boomer Esiason.

“I was going out of my way to be extra courteous to this one lady and there was only one,” he said. “She got personal attention from the head coach. I can’t recall ever saying, ‘Just a second, I’ll run and get our star quarterback for a private interview,’ to a reporter before.

“This lady got her audience immediately, she got a personal escort from the head coach and a courteous quarterback who was willing to spend as much time as she wanted.”

Now that the incident has turned into a full-blown issue, don’t expect Wyche to back down. He says no amount of fine will “force me to change my conviction on this matter.” He’s dared to question and risked ridicule in the past, and the Bengals, at least, love him for it.

“Everyone on this team admires that he will always stick up for the players, regardless what the situation is,” Esiason said. “Right now, he’s trying to shield the team the best he can. I don’t envy the situation he’s in. He’s got to be a little frayed. I hope he weathers the storm.”

Wyche might or might not have known he was creating an incident, but now that the issue is being discussed, he’s focusing on what he feels is a cause worthy of his attention. So what’s a little distraction in the middle of the season?

“I think it’s time we reconsidered the system,” he said. “I know the spirit of the law is much more important than the letter of the law. There are 100 ways to conduct an interview and the least convenient is to do it naked. We’ll find a better system.

“And down the road this episode will mean there will be more female sportswriters. There’s bound to be a percentage of women who don’t even take it on because they have to hang around a bunch of guys in jocks. This will give some talented writers a chance to enter the industry who have never even considered it before.

“This has never been a case of accessibility. You know me. I’m available. In fact, I’m probably talking too much again now.”

Wyche admits he has a tendency to let frankness overtake tact. Clearly, he’s no Tom Landry, on the field or off. He’s about as stoic as a guy who knows he won the lottery but can’t find his winning ticket.

Another list:

--After humiliating the Houston Oilers and their coach, longtime rival Jerry Glanville, 61-7, last season, an excited Wyche said he wished there had been a fifth quarter so the Bengals could have scored 100 points. Then he described the Oilers as “sorry.”

--When the crowd at Riverfront Stadium began hurling iceballs at the Seahawks during the closing minutes of a 24-17 Bengals’ loss last season, Wyche grabbed a public-address microphone and screamed, “You don’t live in Cleveland; you live in Cincinnati.” (After the chastisement, the only snow in the air was in flake form).

--Then he was fined $3,000 for barring reporters from the Bengal locker room after that loss to the Seahawks.

--After a tough defeat in Denver in 1986, Wyche kicked the door on his way into his postgame press conference. When a traffic reporter, who was moonlighting on weekends for National Public Radio, asked him why he kicked the door, Wyche jumped down from the podium, grabbed the reporter’s microphone and threw it in his face. (After an apology, no charges were filed, but Wyche was fined $2,000 for this one).

“You know Sam, he’s always been a very emotional coach,” Esiason said. “I think that’s one of the reasons the players really play for him, because he’s always taking stands.”

Monday night, in the waning minutes of the 31-16 loss to Seattle, Wyche gathered his offensive players into a huddle. This was not to be a strategy planning session--the cause was already lost on this evening--it was to be a damage-control pep talk from a coach who couldn’t wait until the final gun to begin to exorcise the pain of an embarrassing defeat.

“We were stinking the house up and we’re just not like that,” Wyche said. “I just got everybody together and said, ‘I want everyone one to look each other in the eye. We’re going to lock knuckles here and I don’t want one guy out of the circle.’

“I said, ‘We’re through with it. We’re tired of looking bad, of missing blocks, of incompleting passes, of fumbling exchanges.’ I said, ‘Look at yourself and each other. Now, it’s over .’ ”

Wyche’s innovative offense is certainly one of the league’s best and Monday night’s performance should soon be just a bad memory. His little war of the sexes with the NFL may just be beginning, however.