Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, January 29, 1995 TAG: 9501310054
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C9 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JIM DUCIBELLA LANDMARK NEWS SERVICE
DATELINE: MIAMI LENGTH: Long
Not best coaches.
Best men.
To meet Bobby Ross is to love him. Forever.
Dick Harmison broke into coaching with Ross at VMI back in 1965. Later, they worked at William and Mary before Ross, who was born in Richmond 57 years ago, embarked on a career odyssey with stops at Rice, The Citadel, the Kansas City Chiefs, Maryland, Georgia Tech and now San Diego.
Minutes after Ross' Chargers beat the Pittsburgh Steelers to win the AFC title, Harmison sat and wrote him a note of congratulations.
``I had to let him know how proud I am of him and how I've got my fingers crossed they'll win the big game,'' Harmison said from his home Tuesday.
Glenn Kubany's wife, Linda, was Ross' secretary at Maryland, where Ross was head coach from 1982-86. She was diagnosed with cancer near the end of Ross' tenure at Maryland, and succumbed after a gallant fight long after Ross had moved on to the NFL.
``He was there for her as a friend, sending cards, writing letters, making phone calls, whether he was at Georgia Tech or with the Chargers,'' Kubany said by phone from his office in Rockville, Md. ``The messages were always inspirational, and they always lifted her spirits.
``When I asked him to serve as one of her pallbearers, he said he'd be honored. He's a unique individual.''
Ask about Ross and be prepared to hear about his honesty, his work ethic, his attention to every detail, his intense interest in his players and how he never has come close to compromising his beliefs.
``At first, I was very nervous sitting in his office, waiting to interview with him,'' recalls offensive tackle Stan Brock, who joined the Chargers two years ago as a free agent after 13 seasons with New Orleans. ``I had never had to sell myself to a coach before, and it was a little frightening.
``The first thing he does is tell me how concerned he is about me as a person, and he asks about my family, my religion, whatever. We didn't work out until much later. He's the most sincerely caring coach I've ever played for.''
These Chargers are said to embody what Ross values most in sport - talent unafraid to squeeze more from itself than thought possible.
``If I had a choice, I'd rather have a good player who is a good person rather than a great player who isn't,'' Ross says. ``You've got to build intangibles. You've got to develop a work ethic, attitude, discipline, perseverance, all those things. More than any other sport, a football team needs those to be successful.''
It sounds hokey, but Ross has the Chargers believing every word because he's sold it by his life.
Before he hired Ross three years ago,Bobby Beathard, San Diego's general manager, put out an APB for something negative. Nothing surfaced.
``You never hear anything bad about him,'' Beathard said. ``You talk to players around the NFL who played for him and they loved it. There's nothing selfish about him, no ego.''
Twice during the regular season, Ross had to pay to park in the coaches' lot at Jack Murphy Stadium because the attendant had no idea who he was.
Asked why he didn't just identify himself, Ross smiles and says, ``It might have been a blow to me. They might say, `Who's that?' Maybe that's why I didn't do it. I just don't like the attention.''
Ross arrived in San Diego with a grand plan to change the Chargers' offense. But once he evaluated the talent, saw the team had a young, developing quarterback in John Friesz, he ditched his idea and stuck with the existing scheme.
If the Chargers pull the upset of Super Bowl history and beat the San Francisco 49ers, don't be surprised if Ross credits everyone but himself for the plan that felled the NFC giant.
The work ethic Ross learned early in life. Born in Richmond, he delivered the Times-Dispatch newspaper, rising before 5 a.m. Even now, he's up at 5:30 a.m. and almost never home in time for the 11 o'clock news.
In the Highland Park area of Richmond where he grew up, Ross joined five friends in a boyhood pact in which they vowed they would be active in sports, successful in school - and, at all costs, ignore girls.
Ross remained true to all but the last portion. He and his wife, Alice, will celebrate 38 years of marriage in June. They have five children.
He was a three-sport letterman at VMI and departed in 1959 with a degree in English and history. After graduation, Ross' first coaching job was at Benedictine High School in Richmond. He guided the team to an 0-9 record.
Friends say Ross' idea of a good time is taking a bowl of ice cream and some game films into a room and closing the door behind him. Asked Monday how many films of San Francisco's 1994 games he had studied preparing for today, Ross said he'd looked at parts of all of them.
Next question.
``He's very intense, very intelligent [Ross would dispute that vigorously], and he analyzes the opponent very well,'' Harmison said. ``He's very demanding of his players.
``There's a happy medium in that. If you're fair, honest, the same person every day, players can accept that. They'll respect you for what you believe in.''
For the moment, what Ross believes in most is the Chargers, and they in him.
Everyone who ever met him, it seems, is along for the ride.
by CNB