Holmgren Gives Lots of Assistants

Mike Holmgren is nowhere--and everywhere--in the playoffs.

His Seattle Seahawks are history, extinguished Monday when the Minnesota Vikings lost to the Baltimore Ravens, but Holmgren’s shadow still stretches across the postseason. Five of his former Green Bay assistants are coaching playoff teams: San Francisco’s Steve Mariucci, Oakland’s Jon Gruden, Chicago’s Dick Jauron, Green Bay’s Mike Sherman and Philadelphia’s Andy Reid.

“I talked to most of them today--those who would accept my calls,” Holmgren told reporters with a smile.

“One of my regrets was not getting into the playoffs and disrupting those guys a little bit. They’re wonderful guys and I’m very proud of them, proud of the job they did.”

Holmgren is the Vito Corleone of coaching. Not only did his Packers reach the Super Bowl twice in the 1990s, the franchise doubled as a coaching think tank. The 49ers did the same thing throughout the 1980s, when Bill Walsh assembled staffs that included Holmgren and other eventual head coaches such as Mike Shanahan, Ray Rhodes and George Seifert. Even Gruden worked there for a season, fetching coffee and soaking up every ounce of information he could.

As Walsh did, Holmgren asks a lot of his assistant coaches. He entrusts them with real responsibilities, holds them to exacting standards, lets them run part of the show.

Walsh flirted with the idea of trading Joe Montana to San Diego in 1988, but reconsidered after polling his staff. Another coach might have traded first and listened to opinions later (or never).

With Holmgren, strong opinions aren’t only encouraged, they’re mandatory.

“There’s no cruising,” said Gil Haskell, Seattle’s offensive coordinator who was part of Holmgren’s Green Bay staff from 1992 through 1997. “You can’t go into a meeting and say, ‘I don’t know what I would do in that situation.’ You have to have ideas. He’s not going to agree with all of them, but he wants to hear them.”

Said Reid: “I’ve talked to a lot of assistant coaches throughout the league about [Holmgren’s] ability to lead the football team, to take over a team with great pride and history and bring them back from a dead state to a world-champion state. It was remarkable. And he had a great ability to involve everybody in that process. Everybody felt a part of it.”

Packer President Bob Harlan, in his 31st year with the franchise, said there was a special air about Holmgren’s staff, especially in the early ‘90s. The assistants would keep the lights burning at all hours and devote every spare moment to either football or family.

“Green Bay was a special place,” Harlan said. “They were a bunch of guys who would get on a plane for a road game and work and work. The plane would be quiet, almost silent. They’d have their game plans out, going over the details.”

Pity the fool caught unprepared by Holmgren.

“Everyone respects him tremendously, whether you’re a coach or a player, because they know what his philosophy is, what he believes in,” Gruden said two years ago. “You know that from the very beginning. If you do something wrong, you’re not going to hear about it after the ninth game or 11th game, you’re going to hear about it right after it happens.”

Gruden craved the added responsibility Holmgren gave him. Usually. But, for a 29-year-old assistant who looked 18, carrying out a Holmgren dictum wasn’t always easy. Once, in his first season as receivers coach, Gruden was instructed to chew out Sterling

Sharpe, who was surly during the week and downright uncoachable on Sundays.

“He was the worst,” Gruden said. “Absolutely the worst. You’d get Monday through Saturday to coach him, but Sunday was his day to play. If you’re going to make adjustments, that’s fine. But if you’re going to try to change his stance or his route-running on game day, you’re out of your mind.”

Sharpe was running his routes a few yards too shallow in a game against New England, and Holmgren instructed his wide-eyed assistant to “get on his ... “

“And,” Holmgren added, “I’m going to be watching to make sure you do it.”

Gruden came up with a plan. He walked over to the bench where

Sharpe was sitting and pretended to angrily bark out an order. Really, he only mouthed the words. Holmgren didn’t know the difference, and Sharpe merely gave Gruden a confused look.

Years later, now that he has a staff of his own, Gruden might feel a tad guilty about that transgression. But there’s an easy way he can make it up to his former boss.

Playoff tickets.