WT:An encore from the heart

[TK]

http://www.washtimes.com/sports/20040107-115555-3522r.htm

An encore from the heart

By Tom Knott

Joe Gibbs is the latest icon looking to rescue Washington from its sports malaise.

Steve Spurrier was before him.

Michael Jordan was before the both of them.

Jaromir Jagr, who once walked on water in Pittsburgh, is drowning in the soy sauce of Tony Cheng's neighborhood.

Even Mia Hamm, a mini-icon, left on mixed terms: one championship followed by the demise of a league.

It is said the famous die in threes.

Our icons and teams die in bunches.

Washington is first in war, first in peace and last in all the leagues.

Gibbs, who sped off into the sunset on his terms after the 1992 season, returns to a different owner, a different stadium and a different game.

His imitation Hogs sit in the stands in bad dresses and fake snouts. His homefield advantage has been blunted by the exhaustion of traveling to the bowl by the Beltway and the infiltration of those with loyalties to the Eagles and Cowboys. His game is increasingly malleable because of the mercenary bent of those in cleats.

Even Gibbs is not the person he once was, assuming he is as susceptible to the aging process as the next person.

Gibbs came to Washington the first time as a 40-year-old unknown ever desperate to demonstrate his worthiness as an NFL head coach. He comes to Washington this time as a 63-year-old figure steeped in lore.

His maniacal attention to detail was the linchpin of his success that compromised his health.

His single-mindedness was the stuff of legend.

The name Oliver North once drew a blank from his face at the height of the Iran-Contra goings-on.

Gibbs was one for the football history books, the best coach there ever was in Washington, who won Super Bowl championships with Joe Theismann, Doug Williams and Mark Rypien.

There is perhaps no more compelling detail in Gibbs' football portfolio than claiming the Lombardi Trophy with three different quarterbacks.

Gibbs was a coach of gut feelings and gut checks. The constants were strong offensive and defensive lines and a potent running attack, starting with John Riggins.

That lasting condition cannot be in the NFL today. Good teams have all the shelf life of a carton of milk.

The Buccaneers win the Super Bowl one season and finish with a 7-9 record the next season.

If the moving van mindset of the NFL today existed a generation ago, would the Redskins have had Jeff Bostic for 14 seasons, Joe Jacoby for 13 seasons, Russ Grimm and George Starke for 12 seasons apiece and Mark May for eight seasons?

This is one of the challenges before Gibbs, who all by himself has restored hope to the seemingly hopeless.

The landing of Gibbs is the mother of all marketing moves, the recent tradition of the Redskins. The offseason has come to be the best time of the year for a franchise accustomed to making a big splash but never rising to the surface when it means something.

This time, of course, the ever-chastened Dan Snyder is bound to let it slip that he has learned his lesson not to time potential players in the 40-yard dash or release the coach's pet quarterback or prop up a dead man at defensive end. No, this time, he really, really means it, because even a blind squirrel finds an occasional acorn, or in this case a jewel of a coach.

As Art Modell recently told the Baltimore Sun: "He's got a lot to learn. Hopefully, he will learn it and apply it."

Gibbs could be the one to hold in check the Fantasy League meddler in Snyder.

If not, there always will be someone ready to make the attempt in exchange for the proper inducements.

Gibbs is certain to squelch the sense of resignation that gripped the Spurrier regime.

Gibbs, after all, is the coach who once knelt on the RFK Stadium floor and looked to the skies in the waning minutes of a playoff game against the Vikings. Winning was the sustenance of his existence, as it has been in his second act with NASCAR.

Unlike the previous saviors, Gibbs is forever ours.

Even if he fails to lift the Lombardi Trophy in triumph again, his attempt to resurrect the floundering will be meritorious in itself.

This is an encore performance from the heart.

[TK]

http://www.washtimes.com/sports/20040107-115555-3522r.htm

An encore from the heart

By Tom Knott

Joe Gibbs is the latest icon looking to rescue Washington from its sports malaise.

Steve Spurrier was before him.

Michael Jordan was before the both of them.

Jaromir Jagr, who once walked on water in Pittsburgh, is drowning in the soy sauce of Tony Cheng's neighborhood.

Even Mia Hamm, a mini-icon, left on mixed terms: one championship followed by the demise of a league.

It is said the famous die in threes.

Our icons and teams die in bunches.

Washington is first in war, first in peace and last in all the leagues.

Gibbs, who sped off into the sunset on his terms after the 1992 season, returns to a different owner, a different stadium and a different game.

His imitation Hogs sit in the stands in bad dresses and fake snouts. His homefield advantage has been blunted by the exhaustion of traveling to the bowl by the Beltway and the infiltration of those with loyalties to the Eagles and Cowboys. His game is increasingly malleable because of the mercenary bent of those in cleats.

Even Gibbs is not the person he once was, assuming he is as susceptible to the aging process as the next person.

Gibbs came to Washington the first time as a 40-year-old unknown ever desperate to demonstrate his worthiness as an NFL head coach. He comes to Washington this time as a 63-year-old figure steeped in lore.

His maniacal attention to detail was the linchpin of his success that compromised his health.

His single-mindedness was the stuff of legend.

The name Oliver North once drew a blank from his face at the height of the Iran-Contra goings-on.

Gibbs was one for the football history books, the best coach there ever was in Washington, who won Super Bowl championships with Joe Theismann, Doug Williams and Mark Rypien.

There is perhaps no more compelling detail in Gibbs' football portfolio than claiming the Lombardi Trophy with three different quarterbacks.

Gibbs was a coach of gut feelings and gut checks. The constants were strong offensive and defensive lines and a potent running attack, starting with John Riggins.

That lasting condition cannot be in the NFL today. Good teams have all the shelf life of a carton of milk.

The Buccaneers win the Super Bowl one season and finish with a 7-9 record the next season.

If the moving van mindset of the NFL today existed a generation ago, would the Redskins have had Jeff Bostic for 14 seasons, Joe Jacoby for 13 seasons, Russ Grimm and George Starke for 12 seasons apiece and Mark May for eight seasons?

This is one of the challenges before Gibbs, who all by himself has restored hope to the seemingly hopeless.

The landing of Gibbs is the mother of all marketing moves, the recent tradition of the Redskins. The offseason has come to be the best time of the year for a franchise accustomed to making a big splash but never rising to the surface when it means something.

This time, of course, the ever-chastened Dan Snyder is bound to let it slip that he has learned his lesson not to time potential players in the 40-yard dash or release the coach's pet quarterback or prop up a dead man at defensive end. No, this time, he really, really means it, because even a blind squirrel finds an occasional acorn, or in this case a jewel of a coach.

As Art Modell recently told the Baltimore Sun: "He's got a lot to learn. Hopefully, he will learn it and apply it."

Gibbs could be the one to hold in check the Fantasy League meddler in Snyder.

If not, there always will be someone ready to make the attempt in exchange for the proper inducements.

Gibbs is certain to squelch the sense of resignation that gripped the Spurrier regime.

Gibbs, after all, is the coach who once knelt on the RFK Stadium floor and looked to the skies in the waning minutes of a playoff game against the Vikings. Winning was the sustenance of his existence, as it has been in his second act with NASCAR.

Unlike the previous saviors, Gibbs is forever ours.

Even if he fails to lift the Lombardi Trophy in triumph again, his attempt to resurrect the floundering will be meritorious in itself.

This is an encore performance from the heart.