Rams Want a Run for Their Money

Who says the Rams have no running backs?

At last count, the Rams had 10 of them, as roll call at Mini-Camp Knox (The Sequel) attests.

Robert Delpino? Absent. For reasons unknown--although knowing the Rams, it probably has something to do with wallet-sized portraits of dead presidents.

Marcus Dupree? Absent. But, then, what’s new?

Cleveland Gary? Here. Looking for pigskinned luggage he swears used to belong to him.

Buford McGee? Here. Looking for the 1990 Ram MVP trophy he swears used to belong to him.

Ernie Thompson? Here. And if you were a former 12th-round pick with a chance to make an NFL roster, wouldn’t you be?

David Lang? Here for the same reason Ernie is.

Vernon Turner? Here, and not with the wide receivers, because Turner once rushed for 800 yards as a senior at Carson-Newman and, as running back coach Chick Harris says, “You never can tell.”

Derek Loville? Good question.

Joe Campbell? And another.

Tim Lester? And another.

Take a look at this group, as Knox is doing during this mini-camp, and take a guess at what the head coach must be thinking.

(a) “How about another 10-for-1 deal for Ollie Matson?”

(b) “What is Lawrence McCutcheon doing in the scouting department?”

(c) “I wonder what Greg Bell’s doing these days.”

Tuesday, Knox opted for (c).

Really.

John Shaw’s favorite tailback, banished from John Robinson’s neighborhood and cleared out of Los Angeles, seemingly for good, by Al Davis last year, was back in the minds of Ram coaches and on the tips of tongues all over Rams Park Tuesday afternoon.

“I’ve returned a few phone calls from his agent,” Knox said. “We’re always interested in players.”

Interested enough to ring Bell up and tell the 30-year-old ex-Bill, ex-Ram and ex-Raider to come back down?

“I don’t know,” Knox said.

But Knox was toying with the idea, because, at this point, with this collection of tailback maybes and fullback who-knows, no idea can be considered too dumb.

That’s why Knox has slapped a number 30 on the back of Turner and turned the pass catcher and sometimes kickoff catcher over to Harris for a crash course at H-back to “see how that goes.”

That’s why Knox signed Loville, the forgotten man in Knox’s John L. Williams-Derrick Fenner Seattle backfield scheme, to a Plan B contract.

That’s why Knox protected two 12th-rounders, Thompson and Lang, from the Plan B hordes and drafted Campbell, a 5-8, 174-pound scatback from Middle Tennessee State, and Lester, a 5-9, 213-pound bowling ball from Eastern Kentucky, in the sixth and 10th rounds.

But sixth-to-12th round draft choices are either projects, plug-ins or somebody else’s scrap pile. Knox knew about Gary’s fumbles and McGee’s 31-year-old birth certificate before last month’s draft. He knew Delpino is most effective when administered in limited doses. Last season’s desperation solution at tailback failed to rush for more than 37 yards in any game after Nov. 11.

He could have spent a higher pick on a higher profile runner.

But Harris, being a Knox staff member for the past dozen years, knows the Knox party line.

“You’ve got to be able to stop people,” Harris says, “before you can start to run the football.”

Not a bad point, considering this is a team that allowed 390 of them in 1991.

So the Rams drafted a defensive tackle in the first round, a cornerback in the second, a defensive tackle in the third and a safety in the fifth . . . and hope that a comeback, a breakthrough or a trade bails out the running game.

As predicaments go, this one is unprecedented for Knox, who wandered far and wide across the NFL landscape, but never went anywhere without a potential 1,000-yard rusher close to his side.

In Los Angeles, he had McCutcheon.

In Buffalo, he had Joe Cribbs.

In Seattle, he had Curt Warner, and then, Williams.

In Anaheim, he has 10 names in a hat. The only one who ever got close to 1,000 yards was Gary--he had 808 in 1990--but that was before Gary suffered the heartbreak of fumbleitis.

“That’s something we have to work on,” says Knox, “and Cleveland has been working hard on it.” If he wants to leave Knox’s bench, there’s no other way out. In Knox’s system, according to Harris, “if you’re a running back and you turn the ball over five times in a season, that’s a lot. John L. Williams once went a whole season without fumbling at all.”

Knox has broken fumblers of the habit before. “Cribbs turned the ball over some in his earlier years,” Harris says, “but we got him to the point where it wasn’t a problem.” Gary has to go a ways to make the same claim--and, as was the problem last season, to cure the fumbling without sacrificing any verve.

Reckless, Gary ran his best as a Ram.

Tentative, with two arms squeezing the pebbles off the football, Gary became your average second-string plowhorse.

“We don’t want to teach containment at the expense of extra effort,” Harris says. “We want him to be attacking. We want him to go for the big run.

“But a big run is no good if you leave it on the ground.”

That is what mini-camps are for. To work at solving maxi-problems.

So come one, come all and let’s see if two of you can run forward with the ball.

“We’re just bringing in a bunch of young backs,” Harris says, “and seeing if we can find a ruby in the crowd.”

No imitations will suffice.

Cheap glass, as the Rams know, breaks too easily, and rhinestone is for Cowboys.