He Has the Drive : At 37, Raiders’ Vince Evans Has a Shot Only as No. 3 Quarterback, but He Keeps On Going

It was a piece of mail that was delivered in 1976, but Vince Evans can still read the words in his mind as if it were delivered yesterday.

Evans was then the quarterback for USC, preparing for the annual showdown against UCLA.

Just before the game, he received a letter that read: “Nigger, nigger: If you go out there on that field today, I’m going to blow your brains out.”

Evans, understandably shaken to the core, took the letter to his coach, John Robinson.

Robinson read it carefully, then asked Evans, “What do you want to do?”

The quarterback didn’t hesitate.

“There ain’t no way they are going to keep me off that field,” Evans said. “I’ve come too far and worked too hard to allow that kind of threat to intimidate me.”

So he played.

In that game. And the next one. And in every game he could since then.

At 37, Evans, now a Raider, is still out there. Still just as determined as he was in the face of death. Still taking the snaps from center, still fading back, still throwing that tight spiral in drills, in workouts and in games whenever called upon.

He is not fooling himself. Evans knows he won’t be called upon this season except in an emergency. He knows that, barring major injuries, the battle for the starting quarterback job is between Jay Schroeder and Todd Marinovich. Evans knows that despite the fact he has been a pro quarterback since 1977, the best he can reasonably hope for this season is to hold off Anthony Dilweg for the third spot on the club.

It’s not much to hope for after five years with the Raiders. Evans has seen a lot of quarterbacks come along in that time, from Jim Plunkett and Marc Wilson to Schroeder and Marinovich.

Meanwhile, Evans has stood on the sideline, helmet in hand, waiting for a chance that usually never came.

He knows all too well the criticism about him, that he tends to be inconsistent, hasn’t shown an ability to run the offense, often makes poor choices in pass selection.

But he doesn’t buy it, never has.

“My argument since I’ve been here is that I’ve never really been given what I would consider an ample opportunity to compete for the job,” Evans said. “It’s always been that their minds have been made up in the off-season. They’ve always labeled me as a guy who is going to come off the bench and help you out.”

So what is Evans still doing here? That’s a question he is asked a lot, usually phrased as follows: “You’re an old man. What are you doing out there?”

It doesn’t faze him.

“They are not in me,” Evans said. “They don’t drive my motor?”

What does drive his motor?

“Dreams,” Evans said. “What drives my motor is competitiveness, the ability to get the job done, being around the fellows.

“You learn to adjust to situations in life. Rather than harbor ill feelings, I like to try to make the best out of situations. I’m not a quitter. I’m not a loser. Consequently, you find out what you can do in the sphere that they have given me to work with.”

It wasn’t always this way. After a bad season at USC in 1975, Evans led the Trojans to an 11-1 record in ‘76, including a 14-6 victory over Michigan in the Rose Bowl. He was named the game’s most valuable player.

Drafted by the Chicago Bears in 1977, Evans got his big chance during the 1980 and ’81 seasons. During those two years, he threw 22 touchdown passes. But even then, inconsistency dogged him. He threw 36 interceptions.

After playing one more season with the Bears, Evans jumped to the new United States Football League, where he played for both the Chicago Blitz and the Denver Gold.

When the league folded in 1985, so too, it appeared, did Evans’ career.

But when the NFL players went on strike in 1987, the Raiders called him.

Evans started all three replacement games, completing 39 of 83 passes for 630 yards and five touchdowns with four interceptions. Always a mobile quarterback, he also rushed for 144 yards in 11 carries.

But when the regulars returned, Evans quickly found himself back in his regular spot on the bench.

Yet, his enthusiasm remains bright. He can still be found on the field at the end of a long, hot practice day in Oxnard, spiraling passes to receivers.

“When I’m called upon to work, I work,” Evans said. “And even when I’m not, I work. I can still get better by getting a guy after practice and working on a route. Every day I step on the football field, I want to be a better player.

“I have to almost be my own coach now because (Raider coaches) are spending time with the others. If that means staying after practice, I’ll do that. If it means studying film, I’ll do that.”

If a death threat didn’t stop Evans, a little thing like being ignored isn’t going to dissuade him.

Evans labors almost in obscurity. The spotlight belongs to the young lion, Marinovich.

What runs through Evans’ mind when he sees almost a mirror image of himself 16 years ago, the bright star from USC with a seemingly bright future in the NFL? Does Evans ever look at Marinovich and wish that he was back at that stage of his life?

“I wouldn’t want to be starting over,” Evans said. “I’m glad I am where I am. If you have not experienced the ups and downs in life, you do not have the appreciation of what you get. When things happen out there, I get excited because I know I put time in and worked for it.”

Evans has also put time in planning for life after football. He is working for a company that manages golf courses. So, when will he finally give up football and devote himself full time to his future profession?

“I’ll know when it’s time,” he said. “A clock goes off inside you that tells you it’s time.”

Until then, Evans will remain driven by the philosophy that has kept him in cleats.

And what philosophy is that?

“It’s not how you start in life,” he said. “It’s how you finish.”