Later Parcells said about the young wideout, “He wants it, so that makes me want to give it.”
The next morning, Bill Parcells arrived in his office a bit after 6:30. Ten minutes later Jeff Ireland came in with an update on Jason Taylor. In a recent telephone conversation, Gary Wichard had stressed that the linebacker’s ultimatum still stood despite Taylor’s public comments a few days earlier expressing a desire to remain with the team. Parcells said to Ireland, “Wichard won’t talk to me because he knows he isn’t getting anywhere. I’ve known the sonofagun since 1981. He played quarterback at C. W. Post.”
At Dolphins headquarters Parcells sat at his desk considering Ireland’s conversation with Wichard. The executive VP instructed his GM to save an e-mail Wichard had sent on May 16 outlining Taylor’s trade demands. In case the linebacker’s camp escalated a PR war, Parcells planned to retain the smoking gun. “He made the mistake of putting it in writing.”
About two hours later, L.T. dialed Parcells’s office, returning a call. As a resident of South Florida he had become friendly with Jason Taylor. Linked by celebrity, the linebacker position, and their last names, the football greats occasionally golfed together. L.T. had learned about the controversy between his former coach and Jason Taylor by reading the local papers.
During their telephone conversation, Parcells said to L.T., “This is a true story. My last time at Grande Oaks, I shot 74.”
L.T. replied, “Bullshit.”
Parcells: “No shit. I swear to you, on my mother’s grave. I can’t do that often, but I’m getting to where I can reach the seventies pretty regularly.”
L.T.: “That’s pretty good.”
“Listen, you might be able to help me a little bit. I haven’t ever said anything to Jason Taylor.”
“So what’d you do to him?”
“Nothing. The press is just making this shit up about ‘Parcells is fighting Jason Taylor.’ It’s not true.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be golfing with him tomorrow.”
“Tell him, ‘You need to see Bill’; ask him to play golf with Bill, or just go out somewhere with him.”
“Okay. I know that playing his whole career in Miami ain’t important to him now, but it will be ten years from now. He don’t know, but ten years from now, he’ll know.”
“That’s right! If you had ever left New York, you’d have been crazy. Now you know. But some of these kids don’t know that. Anyway, tell Taylor I would love to see him. Tell him we’ll go somewhere, and nobody even has to know about it.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Listen to me. I appreciate you sticking up for my ass in the paper the other day.”
“I can’t tell everybody you’re a dick. Everybody already knows that.”
Parcells roared. “As you told me about three years ago, I’m getting sentimental. All right, I love you. Bye.”
Lawrence Taylor set up a meeting for the next afternoon in a restaurant at the Grande Oaks Golf Club. Jason Taylor and Bill Parcells spoke for the first time during a cordial sit-down that lasted about an hour. Nonetheless, the executive VP left the lunch with his sentiments about the linebacker unchanged, and Jason Taylor offered no guarantees about showing up to training camp.
On July 20, with Sparano’s camp only a few days away, a team finally made a proposal for Jason Taylor that Parcells deemed acceptable. Almost two months after their get-together, the Dolphins chief dealt the linebacker to the Redskins for a second-round pick in 2009 and a sixth-rounder in 2010. The headline transaction ended Jason Taylor’s stint with the Dolphins after eleven years. The Redskins had hired a rookie head coach, Jim Zorn, after Joe Gibbs’s retirement, which punctuated a rare playoff appearance under owner Daniel Snyder. Confirming Parcells’s suspicions, Jason Taylor reversed course about his NFL future, expressing a willingness to play in Washington for at least a few more seasons.
34
By the late summer of 2008 Wayne Huizenga informed Bill Parcells that he planned to relinquish his controlling interest in the Dolphins no later than January 2009. Huizenga blamed the presidential election for the development. Illinois senator Barack Obama was receiving surprisingly strong support versus Arizona senator John McCain, positioning himself to become the nation’s first black president. Expecting a victory by the Democratic nominee, Huizenga wanted to avoid a presumptive increase in capital gains taxes from 15 percent to as much as 28 percent.
During the presidential campaign, Obama indicated that he would raise them to 20 percent, the previous rate before being lowered by George W. Bush in 2003. But Obama didn’t rule out increasing capital gains taxes to 28 percent, causing many high earners to fear the worst-case scenario.
Huizenga calculated a tax hit of roughly $147 million if he sold after Obama presumably took office in late January 2009; conversely, making the $550 million transaction in February 2008 meant a tax bill for Huizenga of roughly $82 million.
Parcells was concerned by the accelerated timeline. He cherished Huizenga’s approach to the franchise, and knew too well the potential perils of an ownership change. Parcells said after he got the news, “This is a bit of a tenuous situation because a new owner means an education process for him, and for his financial and legal people. None of them know shit. Most new owners are fans, too, so they have an uninformed opinion. Or some doorman at their building tells ’em something, and they swallow that worm.”
During talks to finalize the team sale, Stephen Ross conveyed a bombshell to Wayne Huizenga: the impending majority owner wanted Parcells out as football czar. Ross’s sentiments contradicted his public remarks after he had bought 50 percent of the club. But now, while still acknowledging Parcells’s stellar legacy, Ross viewed his executive vice president as a football dinosaur. He preferred that his close friend Carl Peterson, the longtime Chiefs executive, take a lead role with the Dolphins, possibly as Parcells’s replacement.
Parcells remained unaware of the new owner’s true stance, and wouldn’t find out about it until several years after he had left the Dolphins. Knowing the dynamics of the situation, Joe O’Donnell actively tried to reduce any tension between his two powerful friends. O’Donnell told Parcells, “Look, meet with Ross. You’re going to like the guy. Yes, he’s creative, and he’s probably going to want ten-gun salutes after every touchdown but he’ll leave you alone. He’s got a hundred other things going on.”
The Dolphins entered training camp with a tenuous situation at quarterback—two unproven veterans and a rookie—so Miami reacted aggressively when the Jets released Chad Pennington on August 7, one day after their bold trade for Green Bay’s Brett Favre. Parcells courted the cerebral signal-caller he had drafted eighteenth overall in 2000; he envisioned Pennington, the first quarterback selected in a draft class that included Tom Brady, as being a quality starter for at least two seasons while the team groomed Chad Henne.
Pennington lacked a strong arm, and his career had been marred by injuries, including two surgeries on his right shoulder several months apart in 2005. Nonetheless, he remained one of the most accurate passers in NFL history while behaving like a coach on the gridiron. Pennington had led his teams to the playoffs in three of the four years when he started at least nine games. Parcells’s presence in Miami prompted the Marshall product to choose the Dolphins over multiple suitors.
Despite optimism going into the 2008 season, Tony Sparano’s Dolphins lost their first two games as the offense struggled, its receivers providing little firepower. With an upcoming road game against New England, which had won 21 consecutive regular-season games, an NFL record, Miami’s outlook for 2008 turned gloomy. Although Tom Brady was out for the season with a knee injury, his backup Matt Cassell looked terrific filling in.
To jump-start his offense, Sparano wanted tailbacks Ricky Williams and Ronnie Brown, Miami’s best offensive weapons, on the field simultaneously. Quarterbacks coach David Lee suggested reenacting a scheme that he had employed for a similar purpose as Arkansas’s offensive coordi
nator: the single-wing offense, which had originated in 1907 when Pop Warner used it to exploit the talents of the great Jim Thorpe. In a formation featuring an unbalanced line, the tailback took a direct snap before handing off, running with the rock, or even passing.
David Lee dubbed Miami’s version the “wildcat,” with Ronnie Brown often receiving shotgun snaps while Ricky Williams went in motion after lining up wide. Dan Henning inserted the scheme into Miami’s game plan to unleash on September 21. Using it six times against New England, the Dolphins produced five touchdowns, including one on lefty Ronnie Brown’s 19-yard completion to tight end Anthony Fasano: Bill Belichick’s defense looked discombobulated as the Dolphins shocked the Patriots 38–13. Ronnie Brown, the wildcat’s unconventional quarterback, finished with four touchdowns and 113 rushing yards.
The victory and the scheme revitalized Miami’s prospects for the season. Sparano’s team started causing defensive headaches for opponents by occasionally employing the quirky formation. As the Dolphins showed improvement, Stephen Ross contacted Bill Parcells in late October to set up their first extensive get-together. The impending majority owner had reversed his notion of Parcells’s being passé by talking to people around the league, and by seeing the football decisions that had reinvigorated the Dolphins.
On Saturday, November 1, Parcells and Ross dined at Ke’e Grill in South Florida. Their conversation went swimmingly enough to last three hours as Ross paid respect to Parcells, and broached the possibility of a contract extension that would allow the sixty-seven-year-old to run the Dolphins beyond age seventy. While amenable to the idea, Parcells detected some red flags during their talk. For one thing, Ross conveyed his desire to still bring Carl Peterson into the organization, though not necessarily with a front-office position. The owner emphasized his long personal relationship with the Chiefs executive. He also intended to emulate Lakers owner Jerry Buss by gearing the franchise toward the entertainment industry. “South Florida is about celebrity entertainment,” Ross declared. To help raise $500 million he planned to target superstar singers Jon Bon Jovi and Usher as part owners.
Parcells drove home from dinner with mixed feelings about Ross. The Dolphins executive said shortly after the meal, “He wants the team to be glitzy. If you have an organization that’s run that way, eventually it filters down to the players. That’s what happened in Dallas. It can have an effect. You start to wonder what’s more important, the show or the game?”
But Parcells added, “I have a greater appreciation for the business end now. I look at other aspects of a franchise with a little more consideration. Jerry Jones taught me a lot about how things work together. There were some decisions made in Dallas that I wouldn’t have made if I was running the show, but I understand why. I asked, and he explained.”
So despite the warning signs, the get-together concluded with Parcells being open-minded about working long-term for the real-estate mogul.
At the end of one Dolphins home game, Stephen Ross left his suite with five friends and took a private elevator down to his team’s locker room. Wayne Huizenga had followed a similar routine, but with one glaring difference: he never stepped into the players’ domain with an entourage. The sight of Ross’s group vexed Parcells, who deemed the locker room a sanctum. Even a proactive owner like Jerry Jones avoided entering “my” locker room with a retinue.
The Dolphins executive decided against asking Ross to have his friends wait in the hallway, but on getting home that night, Parcells phoned Joe O’Donnell to vent. “Ross came into the locker room with a bunch of guys. He’s the owner, and he can do whatever he wants. Wayne used to come in by himself, and that was actually nice. But Ross shouldn’t be bringing in so many outsiders.”
O’Donnell responded, “Well, how about I give you an incredible idea, genius?”
“What’s that?”
“Why don’t you tell him that? Ask to sit down with him and let him know, instead of just pulling your shit and having it fester.”
“I can’t do that. He’s the owner.”
“Sure you can. He’d love to have a dialogue with you about anything. Tell him, ‘Sometimes when we lose a game, or even when we win a game, the locker room needs to be kind of a private place. You can do what you want—you’re the owner—but it’s a little uncomfortable when you bring in so many people.’ ”
“I’m not going to say that.”
“Then I’ll tell him myself.”
“You do what you want.”
After hanging up with Parcells, O’Donnell dialed Ross.
“Steve, it might be a good idea to think about not bringing so many friends into the locker room. Bill mentioned it in passing last night when we talked. You may want to give him a call to straighten it out. You guys can use this to get to know each other better.”
Ross replied, “Oh, gosh. I never thought about that, but he’s absolutely right. We don’t belong in there.”
“You belong in there. You own the damn team, or you’re about to. Bill’s issue is bringing so many people with you.”
The next afternoon, O’Donnell telephoned Parcells to convey Ross’s contrition. “Look, I had a conversation with Ross. He’s going to call you.”
Parcells replied, “I already called him this morning after thinking about it. He knew my feelings because you had told him. Thanks. We’re fine.”
Bill Parcells avoided attending road contests, and watched home games from a booth in the media section at Dolphin Stadium. The worst aspect of his new job involved lack of direct control on game day, which brought more stress than he had expected. While viewing one televised road contest with Mandart in Jupiter, Parcells stuck out his wrist to his girlfriend.
“Here, I want you to feel my pulse. Watching this is really hard for me.” Mandart expressed concern about his pulse’s rapidity, which she estimated as being twice the normal rate. During Dolphins games Parcells’s adrenaline surged, his mind raced, and some of his team’s decisions made his blood boil, prompting loud expletives. Once, while at his office watching a road contest, Parcells vomited in the trash can after his team lost a fumble at a key moment.
Despite such anguish, Parcells avoided the temptation of contacting his underlings on game day to exert direct control. “The toughest thing is watching the action with a trained eye,” Parcells said after one home game, “knowing where it’s going and not being able to do anything about it. When I was coaching, I could do something about it: change pass coverage, or run a different play. I could take a chance and try to gain momentum for my team. Now I’ve got to watch up there like the rest of the slappies.”
After his introductory press conference, the executive VP had declined virtually all interview requests. He felt that too many public remarks would undermine the GM and head coach. Parcells even chose not to appear on the cover of the media guide, the press kit distributed to journalists before each season, which featured Tony Sparano and Jeff Ireland. The rookie pair also appeared on promotional billboards throughout the Miami area. The inaccessibility of the Dolphins’ highest-ranking official frustrated the local press, so in a stadium elevator after one home game, a reporter who was riding down with Parcells asked for his rationale. The football honcho responded in a manner that would have delighted Woody Hayes: “I’ve already served my time in hell.”
One benefit of not having coaching responsibilities was that it allowed Parcells more time at the arena to engage with football people he respected or admired. Earlier in the year, Mike Holmgren had announced that 2008 would be his final season as Seahawks head coach. Although Parcells and Holmgren weren’t quite NFL rivals, their teams had clashed in two memorable postseason games. Holmgren’s Packers defeated Parcells’s Patriots, 35–21, in the 1997 Super Bowl, and Holmgren’s Seahawks triumphed during Parcells’s coaching coda on January 6, 2007—the wild wild-card loss at Seattle.
Holmgren often described Parcells as the top NFL coach of his era. The admiration was mutual. Over the years Parcells had mar
veled at the speed of his counterpart’s substitution patterns. “Mike Holmgren pressured the defense with the pace of his offense like no one else,” Parcells says. “That play is in, and they’re out of the huddle. Now, that’s not always great for his defense time-wise, but it’s a pain in the ass for your defense.”
Although Holmgren came from the West Coast tree, Parcells intuited that they shared many outlooks on football, so when the Seahawks visited Dolphin Stadium on November 9, Parcells planned to speak to Holmgren at the game’s conclusion. In the final moments of Miami’s 21–19 victory, Parcells waited at the stadium tunnel. Spotting Holmgren walking from the field, Parcells felt uncertain about what to say: Seattle had dropped to 2-7 after Ricky Williams collected 105 yards on 12 carries. So Parcells hugged Holmgren for a brief exchange, declaring him one of the NFL’s best minds and wishing him well in future endeavors.
“I just wanted to do that,” Parcells recalls, “because I don’t know whether I’m ever going to see the guy again. I wanted him to know that I was thinking about him.”
Leading up to the next game, at home versus the Raiders, Tony Sparano’s defensive staff was most concerned with Oakland’s rushing attack. So during a Wednesday practice, Parcells employed a motivational tactic from his head-coaching days: sending a message to younger players through a veteran. He wandered over to the team’s group of defensive linemen and initiated a conversation with nose tackle Jason Ferguson, who had been acquired in a trade with Dallas for his third stint with Parcells.
Parcells Page 64
