KC may lose its Chief

KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- Football practice was over, finally.

She was still waiting, her tanned, pretty face shielded from the bright sun by a jaunty yellow hat sold only in the most exclusive shops.

He paused on the field as the players dispersed, then hurried to her side and slipped his arm around her narrow waist.

Heads together, they giggled over some little private joke and walked away arm-in-arm, slowly, like love-struck teenagers headed home from the prom.

As with almost everything else in a happy life packed with achievement, Dick Vermeil's marriage is a roaring success.

He and Carol were high school sweethearts in a little town in California's Napa Valley almost 50 years ago.

And it is still a pleasure to hold her hand.

"Now we have 11 grandkids," Carol said with a grin. "We have our own team."

Without a doubt, Dick Vermeil's passion for the game and for his players and family burns brightly as ever.

But at 66, the man who coined the term "burnout" the first time he retired as an NFL head coach more than two decades ago admits he's beginning to slow.

Moreover, as age lines deepen in that familiar, smiling face, a wonderful coaching legacy could be headed for a sad end.

In the middle of a three-year commitment with the Kansas City Chiefs, his team went into this weekend one game under .500, with a championship-caliber offense but many problems in other areas, particularly on defense.

No miracle in Kansas City

The Chiefs may not make a breakthrough by the time he turns 67 and his three-year contract runs up. It would be the only time he left a team without making it a winner.

But he often seems exhausted at the end of a tough week. Assistants handle many of the chores that used to keep him up until dawn. Instead of micromanaging as in the old days, he delegates.

In the winter of his career, Vermeil views his role as more the overseer, the leader, the organizer and motivator.

"I've learned there aren't any geniuses doing this and there aren't many secrets," he said. "The big thing is to surround yourself with the right people, and when you replace somebody on the roster, make sure he's better than the one you let go.

"The older you get, it is tiring and draining and exhausting. But I've learned how to handle adversity.

"Nobody ever hired me to keep a team winning. It was always to get a team to start winning."

But win they did.

Dick Vermeil, with an easygoing charisma and an iron-like loyalty that causes people to strive to please him, and with Carol always at his side, has never failed.

One of only four men to take two different teams to the Super Bowl, he also owns the even rarer distinction of being coach-of-the-year at virtually every level the game is played -- high school, junior college, NCAA and NFL.

He's been a successful husband and father (two sons and a daughter are living happy, fulfilled lives). His high school and junior college teams played in championship games.

He took UCLA to its first Rose Bowl in 10 years and beat No. 1 Ohio State. He guided Philadelphia to its first playoff appearance in 18 years and then on to the Super Bowl.

After retiring from the Eagles, he was a big hit for 14 years as a popular broadcaster before a whirlwind re-entry into coaching was capped by his 1999 St. Louis Rams winning the Super Bowl.

He and Carol then retired to their 114-acre homestead in the Pennsylvania woodlands. But just a year later, Chiefs president Carl Peterson, an old friend from his UCLA and Philadelphia days, coaxed him back.

A few weeks ago, perhaps disheartened by a tough loss, he flatly rejected any notion of staying past next season.

But if the Chiefs seem poised for a breakthrough?

"If things are going well and I feel that within my responsibility I can make the contribution the players deserve and the organization deserves -- and if they want me -- I may very well stay," he said.

"But if I were asked to say yes or no right now, I'd say no."

Many people, particularly those many former players who have returned his loyalty, would feel it a shame if Vermeil leaves his profession as anything less than the winner he's always been.

More than wins and losses

But he insists it's nonsense to even worry about that.

"First of all, the word 'legacy,' that's for guys with huge egos," he said.

"No one can ever take away the relationships that I've been able to establish with the teams that I've coached, and the victories, and the losses we've shared, the Super Bowls, the Rose Bowls, the high school championship games.

"No one can take those experiences away from me. I don't need somebody telling me how good I am."

He's always said that football is about relationships.

"He still hears from players he coached in high school so many years ago," Carol said. "He's always loved his boys."

Said Fletcher, "Even guys that played for him in Philadelphia, when we were in St. Louis, they used to always come back and talk to us the night before games. They always felt a special bond with him. Guys would run through brick walls for him.

"Last time I talked to him, he almost made me cry so I had to get off the phone."

Al Saunders, his offensive coordinator and old friend, wasn't even upset at something his wife said the other day.

"She told me, 'I wish you could be more like Dick Vermeil,"' he recalled with a grin.

"I just told her, 'I wish I could, too."'