THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, June 7, 1996 TAG: 9606070583
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C4 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Comment
SOURCE: BY JIM DUCIBELLA, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: ASHBURN, VA. LENGTH: 77 lines
I remember Jim Lachey's first day as a Washington Redskin. Thirty-six hours before, he'd been traded from the Raiders to the Redskins for quarterback Jay Schroeder, who'd suddenly become a disruptive force after losing his job to Doug Williams.
While his new mates, defending Super Bowl champions, were being throttled by the New York Giants in a Monday night season opener, Lachey flew east all night and went straight to Redskin Park and a garishly upholstered red chair in a footlocker-sized lobby.
While he waited patiently for GM Bobby Beathard or coach Joe Gibbs to make the official greeting, we struck up a conversation. That led to an interview, which led to a professional relationship I've always enjoyed.
Thursday was Lachey's last day as a Washington Redskin. He arrived at a new Redskin Park with his wife and two children, stood patiently in a lobby cavernous enough to hold every player and his family comfortably, shaking hands and hugging some of the guys who helped make the last three injury-plagued years of his career bearable.
Lachey, the last link on an offensive line that revolutionized the game, retired because his 20-pound daughter is just about the heaviest item his ravaged shoulder will allow him to lift. And because he didn't want to be a part-timer on a team he believes has turned the corner, someone to occasionally be pulled from the shadows in emergency situations.
And he quit because, unlike many other athletes, his vision stretched well beyond the boundaries of the playing field.
``This was always a means to an end,'' Lachey told 100 or so well-wishers. ``I remember by father, a career teacher now in his 43rd year, telling me my signing bonus out of college would amount to more than he'd ever make his entire life. He told me to make it last my entire lifetime, and I have.''
One other factor certainly entered into his decision. Lachey, who set goals Everest-high, reached them all.
``I wanted to go a whole year without allowing a sack; I did,'' Lachey said. ``I wanted to go to the Pro Bowl. I did (three times). I wanted to be lineman of the year. I was. I wanted to go to the Super Bowl. I did.''
Lachey was one of the greatest left tackles in NFL history not because he stood 6-foot-6 or because he weighed 310 pounds. His name is listed with the first team on the league's 75th anniversary team because he had uncommon grace, speed and agility for someone carrying that bulk. When Lachey pulled, he didn't just throw blocks at the line of scrimmage. He continued downfield, picking off a linebacker, or scaring the beejeebers out of a defensive back.
Had it not been for Don Coryell, the San Diego Chargers coach and the man who drafted Lachey out of Ohio State, he might have gone down as merely a great left guard. Although he was recruited to Ohio State to play tackle, the coach who tutored guards for the Buckeyes played golf one afternoon with head coach Earle Bruce. When they finished, Lachey was a guard, leading one to wonder whether Lachey wasn't the prize in some elaborate nassau or back-nine press.
But Coryell met him at the airport the day the Chargers drafted him and informed Lachey he'd be playing tackle, despite Lachey's protests that he'd never spent so much as a down at that position during college.
Say what you will about Coryell's overall success, he knew an offensive tackle when he saw one. In 1990, Lachey became the first offensive lineman in six years to be named NFC offensive player of the week.
In some perverse way, perhaps Lachey is lucky the torn rotator cuff that forced his retirement Thursday also prevents him from playing tennis or golf. He won't be tempted to waste his time on such mundane matters. The furniture-rental company he started a few years ago will soon expand into new states. He's already been approached by Washington-area stations about providing sports commentary.
Moreover, he seems very interested in Ohio Republican politics. Soon, he will move the family to Columbus, where the feeling is said to be mutual. It seems likely that there will be another press conference in Lachey's future, perhaps on the steps of the governor's mansion, perhaps on Capitol Hill. He'd be every bit as formidable there as he was at RFK Stadium, something you can't say for every NFL jock. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
At 6-6, 310 pounds, Jim Lachey had uncommon grace, speed and agility
for someone that large. by CNB