By Ronald N. Guy Jr.
Where were you on March 28, 1994? I was enjoying spring break – a now long-gone concept in my much
too adult life – with the spirit of Jimmy Buffett at the Southernmost Point of
these great (continental) United States.
I was nibbling on sponge cake and watching the sun bake. The effervescence of boiling shrimp was all
around. While sitting on the porch
swing an acoustic guitar strummed in my head and I debated getting a brand new
tattoo. I lamented my busted flip-flop
and dressed the cut on my heel delivered courtesy of a stray pop-top. For the life of me, I couldn’t find that
lost shaker of salt. I was in such a
good mood that even though my buddy swore a woman was to blame, I freely
admitted it was my own damn fault. The
polygraph test has nothing on a few margaritas, I suppose.
I was in Key West on that long ago March day. My precise memory isn’t because my trip to
the little latitudes was unforgettable or the result of my behavior prompting
an encounter with local law enforcement; I know of my whereabouts because,
while cruising down Route 1 with warm, rejuvenating south Florida air blowing
through my window, the radio man announced that Jimmy Johnson, coach of the
Super Bowl champion Dallas Cowboys, had stepped down.
It was a good day to be a Cowboys hater. In late March 1994, Dallas was just two
months removed from a second consecutive Super Bowl title and was poised to
become the greatest dynasty in the history of pro football. Nothing could stop them – except
themselves.
Despite the team’s success and opportunity to rewrite
history, owner Jerry Jones and Johnson couldn’t find a way to co-exist. Not even Big D was large enough to house
their massive egos. The struggle for
power and acclaim forced a divorce that weakened the Cowboys and nudged Johnson
from a coaching perch he would never recapture. It is one of the great “what if’s” in sports history.
George Santayana once wrote, “Those who cannot remember the
past are condemned to repeat it.” The
recent split between the San Francisco 49ers and head coach Jim Harbaugh
indicates both parties have poor memories.
While not the equivalent of Johnson’s seismic departure from Dallas, the
Harbaugh-San Francisco divorce is similar in this telling respect: it had
nothing to do with football.
Entering this past season, Harbaugh had led the 49ers to
three straight NFC Championship Games and one Super Bowl. Despite that envious record, the 49ers
nearly traded Harbaugh in the offseason, a botched move that ultimately
undermined the coach and contributed to a substandard 2014 season (San
Francisco finished 8-8). Harbaugh
wasn’t unemployed long; the one-time University of Michigan quarterback signed
a lucrative deal to coach the Wolverines.
San Francisco’s search for his replacement is ongoing.
Elite coaches are rare; NFL teams scramble to find
them. Strong organizations and talented
rosters are few; coaches long to work in such environments. Sustained success in the NFL is maddeningly
elusive; it is professional nirvana for those in the football business. Jimmy Johnson and Dallas had found it; so
too had Jim Harbaugh and San Francisco.
All of the above had exactly what they wanted and it wasn’t enough -
fascinating commentary on all involved.
An endeavor comprised of competitive, successful, strong and
opinionated human beings is going to be combustible. Discomfort will be frequent.
It will have untenable moments.
But if the desired outcome is achieved, it is incumbent upon the
individuals to accept the personally frustrating aspects – organizational
authority, credit for the success or the allocation of pay – for prosperity’s
sake. If self-importance rules, if
there is no ability for the human components to yield, to listen and to
compromise, you get the Cowboys of March 1994 and, it seems, the 49ers of
December 2014.
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