Herm and I continued to stay close even after I went into coaching and he kept playing. When his playing career ended, Herm headed to San Jose State to become their defensive backs coach. Then in 1989, my first year as defensive backs coach with the Kansas City Chiefs, Herm and I spent more time together when he joined us as an intern for training camp.
Chiefs head coach Marty Schottenheimer had the disconcerting trait, at least in my mind, of not needing much sleep, often working late into the night. And back then, he was also a micromanager who wanted to be on top of everything that took place on the practice field and in the assistant coaches’ meetings.
Many an evening “concluded” with Marty pulling out the film from that day’s camp practices to watch individual drills one more time. Usually this was at eleven or eleven-thirty at night, which meant we wouldn’t finish the day until two or three o’clock in the morning. Whenever Marty started one of these sessions, Herm would cut a glance at me, shrug, and go off to fix popcorn. This late-night routine continued into the regular season.
Although I always longed to get home to Lauren and our children, there was never a question for me that I was born to coach, even as I endured Marty’s hours in the office.
* * *
Even though in Kansas City I sometimes found myself on the job at three o’clock in the morning watching film with Marty, I still enjoyed coaching more than anything else I had done. After those crazy hours, however, Herm and I vowed that if we ever had the chance to make the schedule ourselves, we wouldn’t spend, or allow our assistants to spend, that much time in the office. With Chuck Noll, I had seen firsthand that it was possible to work fewer hours and still be successful. I didn’t like the burden my absence in the evenings placed on Lauren, who was at home alone with the kids.
Bill Parcells and the Giants won the Super Bowl that year, and San Francisco went on to win two titles under George Seifert. As for the Chiefs, the 1989 season in Kansas City couldn’t have been more perfect. Working for Lamar Hunt was just as good as working for Mr. Rooney, and I also came to appreciate the approach of the other owners in that bunch, Mr. Mara of the Giants and Eddie DeBartolo of the 49ers. Lauren and I knew we had made the right decision to come to Kansas City. I learned a lot about taking care of details from working with Marty Schottenheimer, and I really enjoyed working with Bill Cowher.
It also didn’t hurt that I was coaching a tremendous group of defensive backs. All four starters were Pro Bowlers at some point in their careers. I still consider those three years, when I was responsible for eight players rather than the whole defense, to be my favorite years of pure coaching. Not only was I able to focus my attention on details that would make them better players, I got the opportunity to really know them as people.
* * *
After I had been with the Chiefs for three seasons, Chuck Noll retired from the Steelers, and Bill Cowher left Kansas City to replace him as head coach. The Chiefs lost to the Buffalo Bills in the playoffs in January of 1992. A week later, Lauren and I watched the Buffalo-Denver AFC Championship Game from the hospital while waiting for Eric to be born. Losing to Buffalo the week before was actually a bit of a blessing for me personally. If we had won, I would have had to make a tough decision. Would I have gone to Denver with my team for the championship game or stayed in Kansas City with Lauren, who was almost ready to deliver? I’m glad I didn’t have to make that choice. I like to think I would have made the right one, though.
I soon faced another choice, however, that was no less daunting, at least in Lauren’s eyes. Marty had previously told me that if Bill Cowher ever left, I would be his new defensive coordinator. Just as Bill was taking the Pittsburgh job, Denny Green left Stanford to become head coach of the Minnesota Vikings. Denny contacted me and asked me to become his defensive coordinator. I had gotten to know and like Denny when I played in San Francisco, where he was part of the 49ers coaching staff under Bill Walsh. But since I fully anticipated becoming the defensive coordinator in Kansas City, I planned to decline Denny’s offer.
Then Marty suggested that I go check out the Minnesota job. As it turned out, he had already decided to hire Dave Adolph of the Raiders as his new defensive coordinator. Dave and Marty were close friends, and Dave had been Marty’s defensive coordinator in Cleveland. Marty hadn’t yet told me of his decision to hire Dave, but Lauren sensed something was different with the Schottenheimers. Hiring Dave Adolph didn’t sit well with me, based on Marty’s assurance that I would be the next coordinator. I reminded Marty of the conversation we’d had three years earlier when he told me that he couldn’t hire someone from the outside over guys who had been within the organization. He did remember our conversation, but he said this was a special circumstance he couldn’t have anticipated.
Lauren wanted me to stay on as the Chiefs defensive backs coach, but I didn’t feel like that was a good option for me anymore, given the way things had played out. I knew I wouldn’t be able to put my heart into my work—a crucial ingredient for success. Lauren was suspicious that I had orchestrated the whole thing just to get back to Minnesota. But while I was really looking forward to working with Denny Green, my decision actually had more to do with my need to leave the Chiefs than with where we were headed. It wasn’t that I was mad at Marty Schottenheimer. I know he felt bad about going back on a promise, but he had never anticipated the opportunity to be reunited with Dave Adolph. I looked at it, once again, as God moving me in a situation where I would never have chosen to move myself. This wouldn’t be the last time it would happen.
After I became a head coach, I had much more empathy for Marty’s position. Things do happen that you can’t anticipate. As a result, I’ve learned not to make many promises to players or coaches, and Marty and I remain good friends to this day.
Lauren, for good reasons, did not want to move, since she had just given birth to Eric, our third child, the very week Denny contacted me. But Denny is pretty savvy; he knew he needed to recruit Lauren, not just me. Minnesota in January can be intimidating, with average highs around twenty-two degrees. Kansas City isn’t particularly balmy at that time of year either, but Lauren had a full support system there. So when Denny invited me to interview in Minneapolis, he invited Lauren for the interview as well.
We brought Eric, who was only eight days old when we traveled to Minnesota for our visit. Kirsten Lindbergh, Denny’s secretary, took care of the baby the whole time we visited with Denny. Of course, being back in Minnesota was like being home for me, even though the weather was painfully cold. Lauren wasn’t looking forward to leaving Kansas City at all. And given that she didn’t yet know the full details of what was going on behind the scenes with the Chiefs, she was understandably not very open to the possibility. I believe her exact words were, “You’re dragging me and a one-week-old baby into this subzero arctic.”
Unlike our move from Pittsburgh, where after praying about it we both felt the change was right, Lauren just didn’t want to leave Kansas City. However, she understood that if we stayed, though I might be able to make it work, I would not be in the right frame of mind. Reluctantly, she agreed to support me, and we survived the move.
* * *
Although it was difficult for us to leave Kansas City in 1992, working for the Minnesota Vikings gave me the preparation I still needed to be effective as a head coach. During those four years in Minnesota, I grew as a coach and as a leader. Denny Green imparted wisdom I have drawn upon every year since then in my head coaching career.
Denny was very concerned with the efficient use of time and sticking with a schedule. In the process, he made certain that his assistant coaches spent time with their families. He reinforced the idea of head coach as CEO, a model I had seen in Coach Stoll and Coach Noll. Denny trusted his assistant coaches and knew the importance of not spending too much time on just one side of the ball.
In addition, Denny always ran the scout teams. The scout teams are the backup players who simulate the opponent’s offense and defense in p
ractice. Having the head coach direct the scout teams served two purposes. First, it made everybody realize the importance of the scout team and made the scout players pay attention. Second, it gave Denny a great opportunity to get a firsthand look at his young players and backups. That’s why years later, after the 1999 season, Denny was able to release two outstanding quarterbacks, Jeff George and Randall Cunningham, with confidence. Denny had seen Daunte Culpepper’s talent on the scout team, even though Daunte hadn’t taken any game snaps during his rookie year in 1999.
Denny also believed that his assistant coaches should interact with the media. Being under the media microscope is an acquired skill. I knew how important it was for me to articulate my thoughts and help the media do their jobs without giving away information the club needed to keep private. There’s a strong trend around the league these days toward silencing assistants, with various clubs having a “One Voice” doctrine. I can appreciate that to some extent; it makes it easier for a head coach to craft a message and keep everyone on the same page. At the same time, however, league rules mandate that we give the media access to our players, so the reality is that information is flowing from various sources within the organization anyway. At the end of the day, the only people a One Voice doctrine silences are those who should be the most loyal—the assistant coaches. If people really want to leak something to the press, they can and will do so—with or without a strict media policy.
The major consideration for me today, as it was for Denny then, is the development of assistant coaches in a league environment in which the media are increasingly hungry. In the course of any given week, the head coach holds a postgame press conference immediately following the game, a postmortem press conference the following day, a midweek conference call with the opponent’s local media, various other interviews, a “production meeting” the day before the game with network announcers who will broadcast the game, plus any game-day interviews for the team’s local radio partner. And that’s just for a routine regular-season game.
For each of these interviews, the coach had better not slip. All NFL coaches have, at one time or another, said something without thinking through all the ramifications. In this era with so much sports-related media, every comment by the head coach is likely to be dissected and discussed at length, and anyone can express an opinion in an online blog. This places a tremendous pressure on the head coach to say exactly what needs to be said at every moment.
As I allow my assistant coaches to interact with the media, they take some of the media pressure off of me. More important, their work with the media allows them to develop these skills during their tenure with me. Their promotion at some point to a head coaching position will carry enough shock, and dealing with the media is guaranteed to be one of the most difficult transitions. I want to help prepare them. An assistant coach who becomes a head coach should not have to go from having no interaction with the media whatsoever to being the lead voice of the team. It’s too much to expect someone to master that skill without some on-the-job experience. I owe a great deal to Denny for helping me develop my media-relations skills, and I, in turn, want to do the same for my assistants.
Denny Green supported his assistant coaches’ families. He allowed our children to be at training camp and scheduled days off so we could get home. Chuck Noll was like this too, although no one on our Pittsburgh staff had young children at the time. When I started coaching in Minnesota, Tiara was seven, Jamie was five, and Eric was just an infant, so I went home often. During the regular season, we usually finished our day’s work before nine o’clock in the evening.
In the meantime, Herm Edwards had taken my old job as defensive backs coach at Kansas City and was working those exhausting hours with Marty. More often than not, Herm would come out of his first evening staff meeting and find a voice-mail message from me on his office phone before he headed into the second, late staff meeting.
“Hey, Herm, just checking in. It’s about eight-thirty right now, and Jamie’s sitting here preparing my instruction cards for practice tomorrow while I look over some notes. Remember to go find some popcorn, and you’ll be done in six, seven hours, tops. Look, I don’t want to stay on the phone too long, ’cause I’m about to head to bed. Catch you later.”
It may not have been the kindest thing to do, but Herm and I still share a good laugh over it. And I’m sure he deserved it as retaliation for something.
I’m not entirely certain why Denny Green chose me over the many other coaches on the Vikings staff he could have mentored. The staff had some tremendous minds—including Brian Billick, Tyrone Willingham, and Tom Moore—who would move on to other great things. Denny knew me from having been my special teams coach during the year I played in San Francisco. During my time in Minnesota, as my name gained momentum in league circles, much of my success was due to Denny’s mentoring. Maybe he figured it was only a matter of time before I was a head coach.
Denny made sure that he involved me in the decision-making loop whenever possible. When it wasn’t possible, he talked with me afterward to explain the factors that had been involved in making the decision. He didn’t necessarily care if I agreed with him, but he did want me to start thinking in ways that would develop my decision-making ability.
For instance, in 1992 Denny wrestled with the decision to bench Rich Gannon in favor of Sean Salisbury. As he worked through the process, Denny let me know what he was thinking. In part, he needed my assistance in selling such a dramatic change to the defensive players. But he went beyond that to explain why he thought the change was important and what the pros and cons were for the switch. He wasn’t asking for my opinion; he was challenging me to think through the situation as if I were the head coach.
Normally, as the defensive coordinator, I would not have even thought about decisions like that. But these were the types of decisions I would have to make when I became a head coach and saw even more variables. I’m thankful Denny gave me so many trial runs behind the scenes.
I have always viewed myself as loyal, even if it meant being somewhat stubborn. By my last year in Minnesota, I was growing increasingly popular with the media. Denny had never been a media favorite, even though we were winning. At one point, speculation was circulating that Denny was on a short leash. A good friend asked me if I would take the head coaching job if the Vikings fired Denny.
“No.”
My friend pressed the point. From his perspective, if Denny were no longer the coach, the position would be empty—I wouldn’t really be replacing him. So he asked again if I would take the job.
“No. Dennis Green gave me this job as defensive coordinator. I will not take his job.”
My friend’s logic was probably more solid than mine, but I stuck by my answer. There are certain bridges that are not worth crossing, no matter what others think. Loyalty and relationships are important. On a more practical note, I was also thinking about Lauren. She was more anxious than anyone for me to get a head coaching job in another city so we could escape the Minnesota winters.
Although it seemed at the time that I might never get a head coaching job, the Lord already had one picked out for me.
Chapter Seven: An Unlikely Opening
Commit your actions to the LORD, and your plans will succeed.
—Proverbs 16:3
GOD WORKED through Denny Green to shape me as a coach and prepare me for advancement. The Lord also brought Tom Lamphere into my life in Minnesota. Tom was with Athletes in Action, a ministry of Campus Crusade for Christ. Athletes in Action focuses on the spiritual needs of athletes, encouraging and equipping them to use their platforms for Christ. Tom had been the Vikings’ chaplain since the early 1980s.
Ever since I was traded in 1979, one of the first things I did whenever I moved to a new team was to connect with the team’s chaplain. Many team chaplains are on staff with Athletes in Action, so a lot of them know each other and know when they are getting a Christian coach or player from another team. When I moved t
o Minnesota, I was looking forward to meeting Tom, and he had done his homework on me by contacting Mike Lusardi, the chaplain in Kansas City. By the time I joined the Vikings, Tom already knew of my faith.
Tom claims that others had told him I had a “great football mind.” As a result, he was convinced that someday I would become a head coach and gain an even greater platform. Although he didn’t share his thoughts with me right away, Tom made it his mission to help me grow in my faith and in my leadership abilities. He wanted to help equip me to use that greater platform when I got it.
I liked Tom right away. I saw his sincere heart for people. Tom had heard that I liked to fish, especially when there’s no hook in my hand. We made plans to get together for a day-long fishing trip in June, a few months after my arrival in Minnesota.
June arrived, and the two of us headed out for a day of walleye fishing. Until I get to know someone, I’m somewhat quiet and reserved, but Tom was the exact opposite. He asked me point-blank where I stood spiritually. Because Tom is often asked to refer players and coaches for speaking events, he wants the people he recommends to be solid people of faith. He then told me a little about the spiritual climate of the organization, and he described areas in which I might have an impact.
When Tom dropped me off at my house, Lauren met us at the door. “Did Tony talk at all?” she asked. Tom assured her that I had.
After that, Tom and I started meeting together regularly, and after about a year, he recommended we spend some regular time together studying the Old Testament book of Nehemiah. Nehemiah is only thirteen chapters long and often doesn’t get as much attention as some of the other books of the Bible. But Nehemiah contains significant lessons about godly leadership. Tom wanted me to not just read Nehemiah but study it and begin to apply some of those leadership lessons in my daily life.