COMMENTARY : The Charger Players Have Given Up on ’91 Season

Check out the locker room--filled with cadavers.

Not a heart to be found amongst the whole lot.

Name one player in a Charger uniform who has the guts to step forward and rally the troops. Point out the team leader, the player who is capable of inspiring his peers.

Leslie O’Neal? He’s become gun-shy since being labeled an egomaniac by his teammates and bosses.

Gill Byrd? He’s a man of deep religious convictions, and those people are looked upon with skepticism in athletics.

Joe Phillips? He’s gone mellow since being victimized by three thugs.

Junior Seau? He’s too young and still too out of control to take control.

Burt Grossman? He makes the most sense sometimes, but it’s dismissed as utter nonsense.

Martin Bayless? He’s on his way out.

Courtney Hall? He does it by example in the trenches, but right now that’s not enough.

Another offensive lineman? They have enough trouble learning how to block.

Billy Ray Smith? Injuries have removed him from center stage.

Rod Bernstine? He’s muzzled the critics, and if he ever parks Marion Butts on the bench for good, then maybe.

Marion Butts? No.

John Friesz? Not yet.

Anthony Miller? Are you kidding?

Come on, it’s not like we’re talking genuine stiffs here; you’ve got nine guys who came into the National Football League via round one of the draft. You’ve got the fifth-ranked defense in 1990, and look it up, you’ve presently got the best running back tandem in the league.

Put it all together and you’ve got an 0-3 football team that looks like it’s already gone into winter hibernation.

Coach Dan Henning disagrees.

“People want to say the reason we’re not winning is because we don’t have team chemistry,” Henning said. “That’s bull. I don’t buy that.

“I think anybody that thinks our players don’t play with emotion is grabbing at straws. I got a bunch of guys back there that have given their heart and soul.

“I’ve got people telling me they don’t see any guys throwing their helmets, so they must like losing. What a crock. Christ Almighty, if they were throwing their helmets people would be on their butt for that: ‘Oh, look at those guys, they can’t handle losing.’

“Those guys take losing deep and they take it hard and they come back working . . . People just can’t live with the fact that we’re not good enough right now. They have to find another reason. OK? That’s the way I look at it.”

OK, so he’s wrong.

This sad-sack team needs a spark, and they’re waiting for someone else to provide it. Who stepped forward Sunday? Losing comes easy around here because the heat’s on the head coach. Listen to the radio or the talk at 7-Eleven.

The lynch mob grows, and Dan Henning’s players go silently into defeat. And isn’t that ridiculous? This group of players will never find a boss more in touch with their needs and concerns, but instead of fighting to make him successful, they have accepted his dismissal as a foregone conclusion.

They talk about it in the locker room. They expect it. They almost welcome it, thereby freeing themselves of blame. There is no sense of urgency from this team’s prime combatants. It’s like they have accepted the party line: When Henning’s gone they will begin to play better. It’s his fault.

There is increasing concern within the organization that this team might have too many nice guys, and everyone knows where nice guys finish. Is there not one person mad as hell, and no longer willing to take it?

“I don’t think we have a top stand-out player, who happens to be the leader of the pack,” Henning said. “But that’s nobody’s fault. In order to get that, you have to have enough good football players so that one of them becomes one of those guys.

“The guy who had that personality was (Billy Joe) Tolliver. But he never played up to it. People couldn’t gravitate toward him because they didn’t know if he was going to be here, and as a matter of fact, he’s not. But he had that type of personality; he looked after people, wanted to be a leader, and spoke up. But in order to be it, you got to be a performer, too.”

Henning said the Chargers aren’t winning because they have failed to maintain continuity. He says front-office changes and roster shifts make it impossible to succeed overnight.

He can paint the big picture, however, for the critics, and as accurate as it may be, it still will not satisfy the demands for immediate success.

“Most people want instant gratification,” Henning said. “The masses want instant gratification, but if you’re in control of it, and you believe otherwise, you’ve got to fight off all that outside influence.

“Why are we not winning? Because day in and day out you’re coaching somebody new. Hopefully under the plan, you are coaching somebody new that’s going to be here for a while. But at this point in time we’ve gone through Mark Malone, David Archer, Mark Vlasic, Jim McMahon, Billy Joe Tolliver and now John Friesz. I’ve only been here 31 months. If people don’t recognize that, there’s nothing I can do.”

When do the players, however, become accountable for defeat? When do people look beyond Henning? When does this lifeless bunch show an interest in saving Henning’s job?

“Are the players at fault because there aren’t enough of them that have been here together?” Henning said. “Anybody who doesn’t think those players take it hard, is crazy. I see them every day.”

Henning to the rescue again. His players have let him down, but he will protect them. They do not grow angry with defeat; they line up Monday for payday. They do not share his urgency for success, and yet Henning remains the players’ coach.

OK, it’s his funeral.