Under Heavy Rush, Rypien Stands In

Mark Rypien admits that, yes, there are times when he has tried to do too much. There are times he has thought too much, said too little, fretted too often, times he has forced passes into double and triple coverage because, after all, don’t the Washington Redskins have to lean on someone in times of crisis? Who better than the guy making $3 million?

He admits there are moments when he has let it all get to him, like the time he turned on his car radio and heard someone saying he ought to be run out of town, pronto. He smiles when asked about the wisdom of listening to the radio at a time when -- even in the most important city in the world -- his performance is almost always Topic A.

“I was listening to some music,” he said, “and they interrupted with a special bulletin about me.”

Likewise, he lost his temper for a moment last week when a local TV sportscaster opened an informal news conference by asking Rypien if Coach Joe Gibbs should have benched him during a loss to the New York Giants. Rypien muttered an obscenity and walked away.

Rypien also knows what most fans would like to do with him. Scoring is down, he has lost the strike zone at times and he is the NFC’s lowest-rated quarterback at a time when the Redskins are 6-3 and fighting to keep the 8-1 Dallas Cowboys in their sights. Never mind the injuries in the offensive line, the drops by the receivers or the dramatic decline of the running game. He knows what most fans would like to see done.

This week, after the Redskins finished a two-hour practice in the dark, Rypien talked about the peculiar torments and pleasures that have gone into this season. Hard on the heels of throwing 28 touchdown passes and being named the most-valuable player of Super Bowl XXVI, he has struggled almost from the beginning this season.

Rypien remains patient, accessible and as likable as any front-line player the Redskins have had in recent memory. He showed that again Tuesday night when he appeared at a surprise black-tie roast for Art Monk and came face-to-face with former Redskins quarterback Joe Theismann, who has made ripping Rypien a regular part of his radio commentary.

“Well, Joe,” he said dryly, “it’s just too bad this thing is for Art and you won’t be able to talk about yourself.”

Rypien begins a discussion of 1992 by saying: “I firmly believe if I had a chance to sit down with 99 percent of the populace of this area, I could explain what we’re trying to do, what teams are trying to do against us and how things are being taken away. I can also stand here and say there also have been times I don’t think I’ve played very well. I’m not going to deny that either. I’m not going to lay all the blame on what defenses do, but I’m saying that’s part of it.”

A year ago, he was the game’s best deep thrower and the Redskins were the most-efficient offensive machine in football, combining an unstoppable power running game and a quick-strike passing game as they ran up the biggest point differential in 25 years.

Perhaps a Dan Marino can force a team out of zone coverage, can do things that, in effect, set up the running game, but that’s not Rypien. That was never what he did well. He began prospering at the end of the 1990 season when Gibbs returned to the running game and forced teams to play the run before the pass. The Redskins are 28-7 in this stretch.

“This thing about, ‘Hey, they’re not making any big plays,’ is really astounding to me,” Rypien said. “They (fans) don’t have a real understanding of the concept of football and what other teams are doing. But that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with moving the ball and making third-down conversions. That’s something we have to get better at, and we know we have to get better at it. That’s where the big plays start. It’s a matter of being patient early and getting teams so frustrated they have to come at you by bringing the safeties up and letting your receivers get some one-on-one coverage. That’s a situation we were consistently in last year.”

He talks about an offensive line that has had three changes at left tackle, three at left guard, two at center and two at right tackle. He talks about a game at Minnesota when he was knocked down a dozen times and almost knocked out twice. Some of his best plays last weekend in Seattle came when he avoided rushers and spotted receivers while moving around.

“It has just been difficult,” he said. “Last year, shoot, we went sailing right on through with the same group of people. It was like clockwork. But again I’m also not making some plays I should. The point is that if teams are going to play those zones, you’re not going to get the deep routes. What you have to do is run it and force them to adjust.”

He was never the league’s smoothest quarterback or prettiest thrower. His strength was always reading defenses, knowing the game plan as well as Gibbs and taking advantage of his strengths, which were throwing deep routes as well as anyone.

His season hit its low point with six interceptions in a two-game stretch against the Detroit Lions and Phoenix Cardinals, and he blew the Phoenix game almost single-handedly when a pair of fourth-quarter interceptions were returned for touchdowns. He did rally to get the Redskins in position for a late, tying field goal, which Chip Lohmiller missed. That game seemed to torture him then and seems to now.

“I’ve asked myself many times if I was doing enough,” he said. “If you’re cutting corners, then there’s a reason to get on yourself. That hasn’t been the case. These last four or five weeks I don’t think I’ve played that poorly (completing 58 percent of his passes). I think the two bad games back-to-back hurt me as far as how people perceive me.

“If you’d just played mediocre there for a couple of weeks in a row, the perception could be entirely different. You make crucial mistakes like I did against Phoenix, and everything is magnified. I don’t think I’m at the level I was last year. But I’ll also be the first to say an effective running game takes a load off a quarterback and really gives you opportunities for big plays.”

He started the season with a four-week holdout and then signed the biggest contract in franchise history, a three-year, $9-million deal laced with incentives and an option year worth another $3 million. He was booed when he was introduced in the final preseason game.

He also knows that if he’s every fan’s favorite whipping boy, he’s just the opposite at Redskin Park, where no player works harder or is more respected. He remembers the dozens of players who came by after the Phoenix disaster and says that in tough times, that feeling of closeness keeps him doing.

“It doesn’t really bother me mentally what others think,” he said. “It’s what we think in here. I know I’m going out there Sunday and the guys I’m playing with won’t be second-guessing me or wondering if I can get it done. There’s a camaraderie that builds up over the weeks and years, when you’ve gone into battle with a group of guys that’s hard to describe to someone on the outside. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m under seige. I have plenty of friends who send over a six-pack of beer with a note that says, ‘Put a smile on your face.’ They’ll send cookies or something, and just let me know they’re thinking about me. ... I still love this game. I know what it has done for me and for my family. I look back on my life and the levels I’ve reached, and I still get as much a kick out of winning as ever. I’m having some tough times now, and the way I respond is the way I’ve always responded. I go out and keep working at it.”