New Game, Fresh Start

Todd Marinovich wants to play in the NFL again. Marinovich, the wunderkind quarterback, the cantankerous thrower, the rock singer and artist, the surfer, the drug abuser, the jailbird, wants to play in the NFL again.

Just when image suddenly matters with NFL owners, coaches, general managers, when a whole league has been humiliated by players charged with murder, rape, assault, Marinovich wants to play quarterback again.

“No question,” Los Angeles Avenger Coach Stan Brock says, “Todd’s past will be held against him. It’s going to be a tough row to hoe, getting over that image. He knows that. Can he overcome himself? Ultimately, that’s up to Todd.”

Brock is Marinovich’s coach now. Marinovich, 30 years old, all grown up he says, is the backup quarterback for the new Los Angeles entry in the Arena League. Somebody named Scott Semptimphelter, a graduate of Lehigh, which produces brilliant engineers, is the starter.

Marinovich is the third-oldest player on the Avengers. Victor Hall is six months older, Eric Drakes is five months older.

So this is a clue. Marinovich must want to play professional football, or else why would he show up with eager 20-somethings who have never been close to an NFL roster, who were not first-round draft picks of the Raiders, who were not heirs to USC legacies, who were not high school phenoms at Capistrano Valley or Mater Dei, who were not written up by Sports Illustrated when they were 17, who did not have parents who raised them from birth to be professional athletes?

“I feel old sometimes, no doubt about it,” Marinovich says. “I sit back and say ‘I’m 30 years old. Wow.’ ”

Marinovich says “Wow” about being 30. Many NFL owners are going to say “Wow, what is this guy, nuts?” when Marinovich says he wants back into the NFL.

Three years ago, Marinovich spent three months in jail after being caught at his Dana Point home with marijuana plants, prescription drugs that were not his and an unconscious guest. After quitting USC as a sophomore, Marinovich also faced drug charges relating to cocaine and marijuana use before he was drafted by the Raiders in 1991.

“My past is not a secret,” Marinovich says. “I know what people think when they hear my name.”

What many might think is that Marinovich has been a Southern California joke, a stereotype of everything not groovy about Southern California. There have been the drugs. There has been the dabbling in rock music and a band named Scurvy. There was the surfboard strapped to the roof of his car at Raider training camp. There is the art. Marinovich considers himself an artist as much as a football player.

He is 30 years old and has never had a job where he’s showed up on time every day and worked hard.

Until now.

When Marinovich met Brock, a tough-nosed veteran of 16 NFL seasons, Marinovich said, “Coach Brock was a man. He said, from Day 1, he wouldn’t hold anything against me. That was one of the best things I heard. He also said he wouldn’t hold anything back. He said he calls things as he sees them. He told me what he expected of me and that it was up to me to do what was expected.”

What he expects, Brock says, is for a player to show up on time, to work hard, to act as a professional. Period. “And let me tell you,” Brock says, “that Todd has done everything asked of him. It can’t be easy for Todd. He’s 30 years old, he’s a backup for this team. But he has worked hard and done what we’ve said.”

Marinovich is matter-of-fact about himself. “I do have a gift for throwing the football,” he says. “But I’m not naive. I know people think they’d be taking a risk on me. And I am a risk. I just hope that someone decides to take a risk. A person goes through a lot in eight or 10 years. People can change. I’m not a totally new person, but I have learned from mistakes I’ve made. I’m not sure if anybody makes correct decisions all the time so I just ask for another chance and an opportunity to play in the NFL.”

That chance, Marinovich thought, might have come last week. He was asked to come to San Diego and work out for the Chargers. How ironic, really.

The Chargers needed someone like Marinovich because their highly paid, big-shot quarterback from Washington State, Ryan Leaf, has been a big screwup. A flake. A loser. Unreliable and disrespectful. Talent going to waste. A punk kid stealing his paycheck.

That’s pretty much what was said about Marinovich when he was dropped by the Raiders in 1993. That’s the last time Marinovich has been in the NFL. He played for Vancouver in the CFL last year but has pretty much been leading a football-free life for seven years.

“I could tell by the looks in their eyes that I impressed some of the receivers,” Marinovich says of his trip to San Diego. But he also heard things afterward, heard how too many people with the Chargers wondered about his head, and so Marinovich was a little disappointed but not surprised when the Chargers chose not to sign him.

When he’s throwing a football, Marinovich has always had great timing. Passes landing when and where they are supposed to.

His timing now? “The NFL is being very careful,” Brock says. “Todd knows this. It’s not only going to be about how well he throws a football.”

But maybe his timing isn’t so bad. The success of Arena League grad Kurt Warner might help him, Marinovich believes.

“The field is so much smaller here, everything happens so much quicker, you have to release the ball quicker,” he says. “The NFL’s changed more and more to that kind of offense. You can’t hold the ball anymore in the NFL or you get killed. It’s great training, the Arena League. I think NFL people have seen that more.”

Drugs are not part of his life anymore, Marinovich says. The band is long gone. He still surfs and always will. He still draws. Always will. And he still plays quarterback. Not always, but now.

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Diane Pucin can be reached at her e-mail address: diane.pucin@latimes.com