When Going Gets Tough, El Dorado Doesn’t Roll Over

In science laboratories, they are classified as terrestrial isopod crustaceans (suborder Oniscoidea).

But you probably call them pill bugs. Or sow bugs. Or even roly-polies.

In any case, the habit of these little creepy crawlies is to roll themselves into balls whenever trouble comes their way, something we’d all like do from time to time.

Rick Jones knows this feeling. In 1989, his first year as football coach at El Dorado, the Golden Hawks went 0-10. Last year, they were 2-8. Through it all, Jones convinced his players to keep their heads up and their doubts at bay. No matter what, they were to think of themselves as winners and never, ever quit.

Their motto?

We will not pill bug.

That’s right--pill bug. It’s how Jones defines turning away when the going gets rough, hiding from the challenge. And with El Dorado’s 7-0 upset last week over Los Alamitos, then the county’s eighth-ranked team, Jones was beside himself.

“You can’t pill bug in a game like that,” Jones said.

“We got that bad break, but we didn’t pill bug. We pushed through. . . .

“That goal line stand was incredible. We could’ve really pill bugged galore there. . . . “

It might seem a bit odd, using an insect as an object of athletic symbolism, but Jones says the words as he says and does everything else--with conviction. He believes in himself and what he’s trying to do, without being arrogant or brash. And his players--all 32 of them--have responded in turn.

The victory over Los Alamitos, El Dorado’s first over the Griffins since 1983, was described by some longtime fans as the greatest in school history. When the game ended, some players did back flips. “Wild Bill,” El Dorado’s longtime fan, did somersaults and cartwheels. Jones did his best to hold back the tears.

Now 4-2, 1-0 in the mighty Empire League, El Dorado has begun its climb to respectability. Years ago, players from an opposing school hung rubber chickens around the Golden Hawk campus the night before a game. Worse, El Dorado’s own student body and staff hardly paid attention to their football team.

Now, attendance is up by an average of 1,000 fans per game. Not only are teachers coming to the games, some give extra credit for game attendance. And the City of Placentia, for years a one-team town, has discovered that Valencia isn’t the only place to be during football season.

Like the Atlanta Braves, El Dorado’s turnaround has been so impressive, we’re waiting for the arrival of the Golden Hawk Chop. However they show their pride, El Dorado fans shouldn’t forget who helped make it happen--though the modest Jones probably wishes they would.

Jones, 32, has a style that is direct but unassuming; strong but flexible. He is a father of three who walks his children to school before walking to work. A man who speaks passionately about his family and his dedication to his players and staff. He asks his athletes to write out their goals--academic, athletic and personal--so they can choose what they want to strive for, instead of being told what must be done.

Most of all, he talks of the “El Dorado family,” the close-knit bond of unselfishness that the Golden Hawks strive for and share. Many coaches start on that “the-team-before-individuals” theme and sound like a recording; Jones says it with such emotion, you believe every word. And, for Jones, every word rings true.

When Jones was 5, growing up in Paramount, his father left the family and never returned. Surrounded by gang activity, Jones says he was continually forced to make choices between right and wrong. Playing football, he says, helped keep him focused. His mother, his No. 1 fan and supporter, was forced to raise the family on food stamps and welfare. She died of cancer when Jones was 17.

Jones went on to be a three-year starting tight end at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, playing on the Mustangs’ 1980 Division II national championship team. He tried out with the Washington Redskins in 1982, but was cut before the season started. It was then he decided to coach.

Although El Dorado is his first head coaching position, Jones has had little trouble in the leadership role. Of course, it wasn’t so easy two years ago.

“When you’re 0-10, perspective has to be forced,” he says.

But he managed to keep the players smiling--and feeling good about themselves--even though many El Dorado followers were hanging their heads. Last season, there was great improvement even though the record barely showed it. And this year, the hard work is paying off. Jones says he’s happy about being 4-2, but happier that 32 boys stuck with it when the going got tough. Because of them, El Dorado football is off to a new start, with renewed pride.

And no pill bugs.