WHEN DETAIL WAGS THE DOG

When the delivery guy showed up at Aloha Stadium with 135 pizzas -- some of them cheese, some pepperoni -- Dennis Slutak paid in cash and breathed a sigh of relief.

The food was handed out to USC players and coaches as they emerged from the locker room after an opening 63-17 victory over Hawaii on Saturday. No one complained.

“After the game,” Slutak said, “they’ll eat whatever you give them.”

The snack pretty much concluded Slutak’s first test as USC’s new director of football operations. In the glitzy world of college football, he does the dirty work.

Before the coaches call a single play from the sideline, Slutak must book travel and lodging for the team. Before Matt Leinart takes a snap or Reggie Bush gets the ball, Slutak has sweated the details of meals and meetings and buses to get the top-ranked Trojans to the stadium on time.

“My sole purpose is to make everything go smooth and make everyone happy,” he said. “I don’t want these guys thinking about anything but football.”

The 33-year-old does not seem to fit the job description with his easygoing manner and a sleepy grin framed by the scruff of a goatee. The players know him as “Slu,” a well-liked special-teams graduate assistant the last two seasons.

But he also holds a master’s degree in sports management and insists that beneath his casual exterior lies “the most anal-retentive guy you’ll ever meet. ... I won’t leave the office at night until I’m sure everything is taken care of.”

This trait is key because Coach Pete Carroll believes in routine, right down to the choice between buttermilk and banana walnut pancakes for breakfast on game day. Last week, Slutak was asked to keep things running normally with the team 2,600 miles from home in utterly distracting environs.

“You bet there’s a lot of pressure,” Carroll said. “This is his first trip, and he’s taking 150 people to Hawaii. ... I’m on his tail all the time.”

Planes, Buses and Bags

Preparations for the Hawaii game began in spring, shortly after Slutak took his new position. He flew to Honolulu to visit the team hotel at a posh resort west of the city.

Meeting rooms were inspected, and staff members were consulted about meals. The hotel, which accommodates NFL players for the Pro Bowl each year, has a practice facility, but Slutak had to draw a diagram of a college field so groundskeepers could lay in wider hash marks. He also spoke with a local bus company.

This is the biggest nightmare for an operations man. What if the team bus doesn’t show up? Or gets lost? Or breaks down?

Several years ago, after a game at Notre Dame, USC returned to Los Angeles International Airport past midnight to find no buses waiting.

“That’s the part I’m most worried about,” Slutak said. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

There was no such problem as the trip began Thursday, buses arriving at USC promptly. But Slutak dealt with his first snag soon after.

Among his many duties, he must rent movies to show on long plane and bus rides. This is no small task. Last season, an operations assistant made the mistake of showing the bawdy “Soul Plane” -- a big hit with players, far less popular with university administrators who travel with the team.

This time, Slutak discovered the plane had neither a DVD nor a VHS player. He had to choose two movies -- “The Longest Yard” and “XXX: State of the Union” -- from the airline’s selection.

Another glitch -- someone left something on the plane at Honolulu -- put the team at its hotel about 15 minutes late. No big deal, though Slutak couldn’t help glancing at his watch.

He stood in the crowded lobby, watching players and coaches retrieve their room keys. Hardly anyone passed without asking a question.

Hey Slu, where are my bags? What about a snack? When is bed check?

Slutak said: “I think it’s going OK.”

Chicken Fingers

Football is the biggest and costliest of college sports. Athletic departments devote millions to operating teams that number more than 100 players, coaches and staff members. Critics maintain that these budgets could be streamlined, that money for flashy media guides and team hotels the night before home games could be diverted to needy sports.

At USC, athletic department officials have argued that football is a cash cow. In 2003-04, the most recent season for which figures are available, the team generated $26.2 million in revenue against $15.3 million in expenses. This profit from ticket sales, television and a bowl payout helped balance the athletic budget.

So, although Slutak does not have a blank check, he receives ample funds for not only travel but also lodging and food. Which brings up the second-most-important part of his work.

“Chicken fingers,” offensive lineman Sam Baker explained. “And ranch dressing.”

Each Friday during the season, after the players finish practice and meetings, Slutak makes sure they have an evening snack.

Hamburgers, chicken and steak fajitas, salad and an ice cream sundae bar.

“And, of course, the chicken fingers,” he said. “The second we put the tray out, they’re gone and we need to put out more.”

In Hawaii, the team gathered at an outdoor pavilion at 8:45 p.m., the food on long tables. There was no shortage, though Slutak asked the hotel to set out pitchers of water instead of a spigot dispenser.

“Faster that way,” he said. “You learn these things as you go.”

Micromanaging

In 2003, before a game at California, the Trojans left their hotel expecting heavy traffic to the stadium. The roads were clear and the team arrived early, which resulted in players’ waiting around the cramped locker room.

Although several factors contributed to USC’s overtime loss, including some controversial play-calling, Carroll swore never again to vary from his pregame routine.

He likes to arrive two hours before kickoff. Not much later, certainly no sooner.

The day before the Hawaii game, when the team went to Aloha Stadium for a walk-through, Slutak timed the trip, including the stroll from bus to locker room, with a stopwatch. He asked everyone he could find -- hotel concierge, police, Hawaii administrators and stadium officials -- about Saturday traffic.

“Now comes the guessing game,” he said.

Forty-five minutes seemed like the best estimate and, come Saturday, it proved almost exact. As the buses approached the stadium, Carroll leaned over and teased: “Slu, we’re two minutes early ... you want to ask the driver to stall?”

But then a stadium worker stopped the USC entourage outside the tunnel that led into the stadium. Hawaii was scheduled to enter and unload first. The Trojans would have to wait.

Carroll and Slutak wanted none of it. They herded the players off the bus in the middle of the parking lot and walked them in.

For the next two hours, the team followed a careful script.

Players emerged for their warmups in phases. Kickers came first, jogging onto the field at 11:57. Moments later, Slutak strode through the locker room bellowing: “Ten minutes, returners. Ten minutes.”

After that, it was quarterbacks, receivers and defensive backs. Six minutes later, centers.

At 12:25, Slutak followed the rest of the team out, saying: “We’re one minute behind schedule.”

Clutching a chart and a stopwatch, he blew a whistle to move the players from stretching to various drills. He got them back inside at 12:44, then watched the clock.

Minutes before USC was scheduled to take the field, he sent the captains out for the coin toss, then told Carroll it was time for the pregame speech.

Setup Man

The question: What exactly does Slutak do? Dwayne Jarrett stuttered.

“He’s the ... uh ... oh man,” the sophomore receiver put a hand to his forehead. “I don’t know the word for it, but he sets up everything.”

Baker, the sophomore lineman, did not hesitate: “I think he’s the perfect guy for the job. He gets things done, but he has fun doing it. And he respects people, which you don’t always see in football.”

After the victory over Hawaii, Slutak stood at midfield looking slightly disheveled in a blue blazer and slacks. He had spent the game charting penalties.

It was not the same as coaching. Not the same adrenaline rush. Not the same tangible reward after a win.

Now, instead of a cheering crowd, he sought the quiet of no complaints, proof he was doing his job. He allowed himself a few moments to feel good about surviving this first game, then focused on getting the team back to Los Angeles.

Countless little things needed doing. Such as paying the pizza guy almost $1,500 from an envelope.

“I had to give him cash,” Slutak said. “I don’t have a USC credit card yet.”