PRO FOOTBALL ’94 / SEASON PREVIEWS : The Revival : Fans in Arizona Are Sure That Buddy Ryan, Their New Coach, Will Scare the Cardinals Into Actually Winning Something

Here on the banks of Big Bug Creek, where about 1,000 souls are by-God proving there still exist people with spurs on their heels and dirt under their nails, they know a thing or two about disappointment.

They know about sticking shovels in the dry creek bed, again and again, for days and weeks.

They know about spending a lifetime digging up little more than a down payment on porch furniture for one of those mobile homes that have turned these barren hills into aluminum canyons.

Some from this Central Arizona town are farmers, some are ranchers, but nearly everybody is also a gold prospector.

By definition, the last people on earth to give up hope.

The last people who can truly grasp the meaning of the word genuine .

Buddy’s people.

“The thing about Buddy Ryan is, he is one of us,” said Bob Briske, a painter and prospector sitting in front of a copper cup in the darkened Double D Bar one recent scorching afternoon. “We like to act like ourselves up here. That’s how Buddy is.

“Other coaches coming

through here couldn’t get the job done. Buddy gets it done, no matter what.”

Briske smiled through his tangled gray beard. “We like that,” he said.

No matter how last February’s shotgun wedding between the NFL’s most controversial coach and its worst franchise ends up, one thing is for certain.

James David (Buddy) Ryan and the Arizona Cardinals have had a heck of a first dance.

By the time Ryan leads the Cardinals into Anaheim Stadium for the season opener Sunday against the Rams, don’t be surprised if half of Arizona isn’t wearing black straw hats and accusing each other of being “dumb, dumb, dumb.”

Don’t be surprised if bosses at Phoenix-area businesses stop issuing traditional warnings to poor performers and just start firing them on the spot.

Look for fist fights between mid-level insurance executives. Look for managers to start referring to employees not by names, but payroll numbers.

Just don’t look for an empty seat at Sun Devil Stadium.

Since Ryan was hired on Feb. 3 amid a mixture of chuckles and cringes, the Cardinals have undergone what is believed to be the most prolific off-season rebirth of a franchise in NFL history.

Season-ticket sales have increased 93.7% from last year, to more than 48,000.

Cardinal merchandise sales at the official team shop have increased more than 700%.

The number of radio affiliates has doubled to 20.

The number of Cardinal license plates on an employee’s car was recently reduced from one to zero.

“The plates were stolen,” Cardinal owner Bill Bidwill said with a smile. “When that happened, I knew we had arrived.”

The Cardinals also may have arrived when somebody working out of the back of a pickup truck actually printed a T-shirt commemorating their only preseason intrasquad scrimmage at Flagstaff.

Not only will there be more bodies at Sun Devil Stadium, there will even be body bags .

A Phoenix disc jockey has given the nickname “Tombstone Defense” to Ryan’s favorite unit, and promised to hang one body bag over the upper-deck railing at Sun Devil Stadium for every sack.

All for a franchise that has not won a championship since 1947 . . . or even won a legitimate playoff game since then.

And all for a man who has also never won a playoff game as a head coach, a man who is best known not for any one play, but for a . . . punch?

We didn’t hear anybody mention a punch. Did you hear somebody mention a punch?

“I have never asked him about the punch,” Bidwill said.

We are referring to the right-cross Ryan threw at Houston offensive coordinator Kevin Gilbride on the sideline during a nationally televised game last season when Ryan was the Oilers’ defensive coordinator.

At the time, despite three seasons of double-figure victories as head coach of the Philadelphia Eagles, despite his Super Bowl ring as a defensive coordinator for the 1985 Chicago Bears, most thought he would never be hired as a head coach again.

But most forgot about Bidwill, the only NFL owner to own bolo ties and a photographic memory of the NFL in the 1940s.

Both men feel like isolated throwbacks. Both want one more chance at success before they can no longer walk the sidelines. They got together for a match made in black-and-white.

“He was the man for the time,” Bidwill said.

And what a remarkable time it has been. It started on that early spring day when Ryan actually led a downtown Phoenix parade on horseback. It led to the craziness of souvenir sales at a practice.

People actually bought those scrimmage T-shirts, at $15 apiece, even though the bold letters on the front read: “ Inner -squad.”

Afterward, Ryan reacted as if he were suffering from an inner-squad infection.

“I was hoping that rain would get here,” he grumbled, looking up at the dark clouds that seem to follow him. “We made mental mistakes that there was no excuse for. . . . Every time (backup quarterback Jim) McMahon audibled, half of them didn’t pick up the audible. . . . You shouldn’t get beat mentally. We got beat mentally on defense a few times, and I think our offensive line got beat mentally some.”

He finished his chat by vowing to cut a player within 24 hours.

Which, a day later, he did. A guy he referred to only as “Fatso.”

Throughout his constant rips, though, Ryan has vowed to bring this state a winner.

Do it even though he’ll rarely mention his players by anything other than the numbers on their backs.

Do it even though this team averaged one fight per practice--during mini-camp.

Do it now.

“The people are excited because they know Buddy Ryan is a winner, because they know I will have a team that will not back off from anybody,” Ryan said. “I tell the players we will make the playoffs . . . because we will make the playoffs.”

When they step on to the field in Anaheim on Sunday, half of the Cardinal players will be scared to death of losing their jobs, the other half will be looking to take a tension-releasing swing at somebody.

Half of the front-office employees are gleefully discussing increased profits, the other half are nervously waiting for Buddy to start ripping them .

In the Double D Bar, and hundreds of meeting places like it throughout Arizona, there is no such diversity of opinion.

Here, for now, they are content to raise their copper cups in thanks.

“We finally got a guy who tells people either to play or get on the bus and go home,” said Ken Swindle, a construction worker from nearby Prescott Valley. “That’s how it is around here, ain’t it? Do your job or get out?

“We got a guy doing that to those high-paid football players. We got us a winner.”

*

After each practice in the Cardinals’ training camp, a member of the team’s publicity staff pulled a small white box off the back of the equipment truck.

This box, more important than any helmet or pad, was dropped at Ryan’s feet as he walked off the field.

Ryan stopped, stepped on the box so everyone could see him, then imparted his wisdom to a circle of about 30 reporters hanging on every joke or insult.

“This box is nice,” Ryan said. “Maybe now they ought to get me a crown.”

You mean they haven’t already? Ryan was given far more than the title of coach and general manager last February when he was hired away from the Oilers.

He was given the keys to Bidwill’s kingdom.

“(Bidwill) has been great. . . . He gave me this job just the way I wanted it,” Ryan said.

And Ryan has not been shy about leaving footprints.

His coaching staff contains four new hires who worked with him during his five years with the Eagles.

And two new hires who were former Eagle players.

And two more new hires named Rex and Rob Ryan. They are Buddy’s 31-year-old twin sons, most recently assistant coaches at Morehead State and Tennessee State, respectively.

“We were the only kids on the block who never missed curfew,” Rex said.

Of those eight new employees, only half of them coached in the NFL last year.

“I realize that if things don’t go well here, we’re all going to take the heat,” Rex said. “But hey, that’s part of it.”

Buddy Ryan’s juggling of the roster has received considerably more applause.

Because of his presence, the Cardinals were able to acquire two of the top available free-agent defensive players in the off-season, former Eagle linebacker Seth Joyner and defensive end Clyde Simmons.

He added other notable favorite players in linebacker Wilber Marshall, backup quarterback McMahon, safety Andre Waters and punter Jeff Feagles.

Meanwhile, he rid the Cardinals of numerous malcontents and high-priced players who mostly stood around.

Only 28 of the 53 players who ended last season on the roster are still with the team. The starting lineup Sunday will include seven new starters on defense and four new starters on offense.

Is it any wonder that at times this summer, the Cardinals had the only training camp that resembled a penal colony?

One afternoon, Ryan was looking at some of his injured players riding stationary bikes on the sidelines and musing: “Some of our guys who are hurt, they like to hang out and sign autographs and eat and drink a lot. . . . Well, I know who those guys are, and those guys will be dealt with.”

Two days later, many of those same players were hauling wheelbarrows of sand up and down the sideline.

“I told (strength coach) Bob Rogucki to put those . . . to work,” Ryan said.

Some former standouts were simply cut, such as safety and local favorite Chuck Cecil. Others threw up their hands and walked out the door, such as former All-American safety Ken Swilling.

“There is a lot of tension around here, a lot of people worried about their jobs,” kicker Greg Davis said. “In this situation, people usually do something absolutely phenomenal . . . or they just fold up.”

Which, according to Ryan, is exactly the point of the insults and threats and on-field cursing that rippled through the large pines surrounding their training camp.

“The players get through this, hell, the real games will be easy.” Ryan said.

Those who have survived, according to Ryan’s former players, constitute a hard-working group willing to walk through flames for their coach.

“You start off hating Buddy Ryan, everybody does,” Waters said. “He used to spend half of practice yelling at me, ‘Hey 20, hey 20, you’re dumb, dumb, dumb.’

“But then you realize, he’ll take the heat for you. He’ll take all of the criticism that could be going to you. He’ll wear the black hat.”

Indeed, if the Cardinals lose six of their first eight games, as they did last season, it is difficult to imagine anybody but Buddy Ryan being ripped for such failure.

“Buddy will do that for you, he’ll take full blame for every loss, every problem,” Waters said. “That’s why players will run through walls for him.”

Waters’ clearest memory of Ryan with the Eagles, of course, involves nothing so chivalrous.

“We’re playing San Diego in 1986, I hit Gary Anderson after he has run out of bounds, I get a penalty,” Waters recalled. “Buddy grabbed my facemask and said, ‘If you get one more penalty, I’m knocking your teeth out.’ ”

Waters said at that moment, he made an important decision about his new coach. “If that man came after me again, I was going to run,” he said.

That same fear exists today, even among the smartest and most streetwise of Cardinals.

Quarterback Steve Beuerlein, who has survived the wrath of Al Davis, is watching where he walks.

“One day, you wake up and Buddy loves you,” Beuerlein said. “The next day, he can turn on you pretty good. You have to try to stay on his good side.”

Even though Beuerlein set a Cardinal accuracy record last season by connecting on 61.7% of his passes, he knows that Ryan-favorite McMahon is now directly behind him.

But what of such potential conflicts between players? What of such things as the free-for-all team brawl that occurred during one of Ryan’s “voluntary” workouts?

Ryan has pushed players past the point of mental and physical stability before. This, some say, has accounted for their tendencies to play tight in big games, causing losses to teams with more maturity.

Witness the talented Oilers’ defeat by the Kansas City Chiefs in last season’s AFC semifinals.

Houston receiver Ernest Givins said: “(Ryan) put the good, the bad and the ugly in this organization. With him, you can win some games, but the big games will come back to haunt you and beat you.”

But the veterans here expect no such trouble.

“For the first time in my career, I’m listening to a guy who is not afraid to talk about going to the playoffs,” said Davis, who has been on the winning team only 26 times in seven seasons. “My other coaches have always talked only about competing, but this guy says we will go to the playoffs, and here’s how.

“Players love to hear that. Players respond to that.”

Bidwill also said he is not expecting any trouble--or at least any public insults about his mannerisms or appearance.

“Buddy and I have many things in common,” Bidwill said. “Nothing has happened yet, and I don’t expect anything to happen.”

Ryan makes no such promises, saying only that his team will win and that he will remain beloved.

“Hell, it’s not just Phoenix, I would have gotten the same response if I had come to Los Angeles,” Ryan said. “People everywhere love a winner.”

Imagine if he had hit Hollywood. How long would it take before people were comparing his sayings to those of, say, Forrest Gump.

By the way, Buddy, have you seen “Forrest Gump”?

“I don’t think so,” Buddy replied. “What position does he play?”

Buddy’s World

Some outtakes from the mouth of Buddy Ryan, first-year coach of the Arizona Cardinals:

* On running back Garrison Hearst’s slow rehabilitation from a knee injury: “He looks good standing there watching practice. He didn’t make any mistakes.”

* After Hearst, a former first-round draft choice, was put on the physically unable to perform list: “He’ll probably be on PUP the rest of his life.”

* On whether he was interested in signing former Denver Bronco linebacker Karl Mecklenburg: “He was a great player in college when he came out of Minnesota, but it has been about 30 years. He ought to be coaching.”

* On former UCLA linebacker Jamir Miller, a first-round draft pick who reported two weeks late, then suffered a groin injury: “Jamir Miller is babying himself. He’s got a pulled groin. I guess he still thinks he’s at UCLA. He’s tired. . . . The trainers say there isn’t anything the matter with him. I guess he just wants to take his money and put it in his hip pocket.”

* On second-round pick Chuck Levy, a running back and punt returner who struggled in his first exhibition against the Chicago Bears: “I thought he stunk catching punts, or trying to catch punts, or watching punts. He didn’t catch any of them; he watched them. . . . I’m like those people booing his . . . (against the Bears). I was one of them.”

* On whether the NFL should put a franchise in Mexico: “No. I don’t like the water.”

* On linebacker Brett Wallerstedt, who re - injured his left knee and then was cut: “He cut himself. . . . Durability is more important than ability.”

* A T-shirt in the window of Ryan’s new restaurant, Buddy Ryan’s Bar & Grill, in downtown Phoenix: “One Way or Another I’m Gonna Punch You.”

* On how center Ed Cunningham handled a brief demotion from the first team: “I don’t care about . . . personalities. I don’t care what he thinks. He could be my own son, and it wouldn’t matter.”