Several times while watching football this year, I have commented to a friend on the relative \coolness"" of one of the teams' head coach. My comment usually led to a spontaneous listing of favorite NFL coaches. I cannot explain why this happens, but I might as well share the content of these conversations with everyone.
My favorite NFL coach, hands down, has to be Oakland's Jon Gruden. He tops my list every time. At first glance, Gruden may look like that guy in high school gym class who takes every game of dodgeball way too seriously, barking out orders to kids who are not as good as he was. Gruden could have been that guy years ago.
Is it just a coincidence that ""Just win, baby"" is Oakland's motto? The workaholic Gruden sometimes goes to the office at 4 a.m., studying game film to get ahead of the competition.
You have to like Gruden because he coaches with emotion. At any point in a game, television cameras could catch Gruden showing off the most intense game face in the league. No matter the team's fortunes, he looks like he could rip a man's head off at the drop of a hat. But when Oakland is playing well, Gruden divulges his satisfaction by pumping his fist, occasionally knocking off his headset. You can't beat the fist pump as an expression of male emotion.
Ultimately, what puts Gruden over the top is the illusive coolness factor. When was the last time an NFL coach was named one of People Magazine's 50 Most Beautiful People? Jon Gruden, still sporting boyish good looks at 37, made the list for 2001. He even admits that he has trouble growing real facial hair, something that certain males my age find comforting.
Despite the fact that I absolutely hate the San Francisco 49ers, I find their coach to be moderately enjoyable. Steve Mariucci' what a cool name. I'm not sure what drove him into coaching, though. He sounds like a guy who should be designing suits or expensive handbags.
Pittsburgh's Bill Cowher is still fun to watch. Jim Fassel of the New York Giants is another good coach, mainly because he guaranteed that his slumping 7-4 team would make the playoffs last season. The Giants won seven straight games after Fassel's guarantee to reach the Super Bowl. Nice coaching, Jim.
However, not every coach impresses me.
For instance, you will never hear me praise Seattle's Mike Holmgren or Baltimore's Brian Billick. Arrogance does not play well on the coolness meter. Both of these gentlemen are convinced that they are the hottest things on Earth since tight-rolled jeans.
Atlanta's Dan Reeves and Washington's Marty Schottenheimer seem too old for today's NFL. The oldest one of the bunch, Kansas City's Dick Vermeil, just cries too much. Other coaches are much too forgettable. I will buy Fun Dip candy for anyone who can name the head coaches of Detroit, Cincinnati, Buffalo and Arizona off the top of his or her head. You can't do it, can you? But one head coach should never be forgotten. He is Jeff Fisher, the coach of the Tennessee Titans. Next time you see Fisher, remember two words: ""professional bowler.""
Am I right, or am I right? Everything is in place, from the fierce, slicked-back mullet to the somewhat disturbing mustache. In fact, I think he already wears wrist supports to postgame news conferences.
Why doesn't he take the next step and join the PBA Tour? Imagine him strutting to the line with a pearly white bowling ball, complete with an engraved nickname. Does Jeff Fisher look like a man who settles for the spare? Absolutely not.
