Bob's your Information Minister
08-06-2006, 09:46 AM
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/football/nfl/kansas_city_chiefs/15208304.htm
All’s quiet at camp
Lessons learned and Edwards’ influence have helped team keep news about on-field activities.
By ELIZABETH MERRILL
The Kansas City Star
RIVER FALLS, Wis. | - The first night off came on a Tuesday, day five of training camp, and the trappings of any red-blooded young American male were there for the plucking. Two-for-one Leinenkugel’s flowing from the taps. College-aged women with Wisconsin accents, yah-noo, angling to meet a strapping young celeb.
By day five, it’s time to escape. Lawrence Tynes has been there, tired of the heat, the meetings, the three squares in the cafeteria. And on Tuesday night, the Chiefs kicker cut loose.
In his dorm room. Watching a “48 Hours Mystery” with the punter. Calling his wife, then turning in by 8:45.
8:45 p.m.
“I didn’t want to put myself in any kind of position,” Tynes said. “Not that I have a problem with it … It’s just better safe than sorry.
“There’s nothing out there.”
Trouble was out there last summer, and Tynes was one of four players to have run-ins with the law in a bizarre 24-hour span. It made more news than Larry Johnson’s playing-time angst or Will Shields’ aching back, and followed the team back to Kansas City.
One year after the infamous weekend of wilding, the party, at least for now, has been crashed. Booze is replaced by bed-checks. The bars down Main Street once packed with players seem a little empty. That’s not to say that the Chiefs aren’t stepping out and imbibing when the lights come on in this middle-America hamlet of 15,000 that proudly waves red-and-white signs throughout town welcoming Kansas City to its summer home.
They’re just not stomping out.
On Wednesday morning, Chiefs president/general manager Carl Peterson quietly stood in a hallway and gave one of the most meaningful early statistics in the Herm Edwards regime — the team was off from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m., and there were zero arrests and no known incidents.
“At least not that I know of,” Peterson said. “I don’t think it’s any tighter of a rein. He just said, ‘Hey, conduct yourselves as professionals. I expect you to do that, and don’t disappoint me.’ And I don’t think anyone wanted to disappoint him.”
•••
There are perks to flying 470 miles northeast to camp, and every year, a local tavern supplies the Chiefs coaching staff with 20 cases of beer, free of charge.
Edwards told the popular bar, a corporate sponsor, that they didn’t want it this year.
“We don’t need them,” he said.
By the second week of the Edwards regime, the players were well-versed on their new coach’s background. He’s the son of an Army sergeant, he gets up at 4 a.m. to run every day, he salutes the flag and calls his mother.
Edwards wears a sweatshirt during practice, in 100-degree heat, because he wants the guys to know he’s out there feeling it with them. Do they know he felt it a long time ago? A long-haired cornerback in the 1970s, a Berkeley guy, and he walked into all the temptations?
“But I also know where the line is, and I never crossed the line,” Edwards said. “I had a good upbringing by my parents. To this day, I’m always afraid to embarrass their name. That’s something my dad gave me. I always think about that.”
Edwards let out a sly grin when asked if the players have been staying away from the bars. He can’t stop them from the nightlife — the collective-bargaining agreement requires that they get time off during camp — and he won’t tell them what to do.
But there are at least two known spots that are off limits for players now. One of them is Shooter’s, a joint just off Main that prides itself on serving peanuts and wine. The bar has changed hands and was formerly called Boomer’s.
That’s where Tynes, on an early Sunday morning last summer, temporarily lost his cool. He was charged with breaking a bouncer’s nose.
On Thursday night, a perfect midsummer evening, Shooter’s was relatively empty save for a few locals. The old Chiefs helmet outside was replaced by Packers gear. The bartenders said they haven’t seen any football players.
“I didn’t even know about the trouble last year,” Kristin Wilson said as she sipped a cosmopolitan on her night off. “I knew they were in town, and everybody’s kind of wondering where they are.
“I think the community is kind of sad they haven’t been able to see them.”
•••
The police scanner was busy in the Northwoods in the early morning hours of Aug. 14. Coach Dick Vermeil had given the team the night off, and the players split off in different directions.
Defensive tackle Junior Siavii and safety Greg Wesley went to Minneapolis, where police were called to a disturbance at a swank hotel. Siavii allegedly assaulted a doorman, and police had to restrain him by putting a spit hood over his head.
Up in Stillwater, Minn., Todd Collins was hanging out with his quarterback buddies when things got rowdy. According to a police report, he jumped on a speaker, struck a security manager, and was threatened with a Taser. No one was charged in the matter, and Vermeil called the events an aberration.
But the discipline issue dogged the team throughout a 10-win season.
“I have to look at every single instance,” Peterson said. “The deal with the three quarterbacks was B.S. I was personally with them 30 minutes before all this happened, and I knew how much they had to drink and ultimately, nothing came out of it. An awful lot of news media but nothing, no charges. Junior Siavii and the stuff in Minneapolis, the police reports … you’ve got to go with what they said and that ended up costing a lot of people some money.
“The incident down here with our kicker … stupid.”
Tynes said he learned a lot from the incident, which happened in the middle of an already shaky camp. The legal troubles affected his kicks, but he eventually found a groove and finished with one of his best seasons.
The hardest part, he said, was calling his fiancée, who’s now his wife. She’d read about it in the papers and heard his name on TV. But Tynes doesn’t blame the fishbowl existence of camp on his troubles.
“I just made a bad decision,” he said. “I should’ve just walked away and went about my business.”
•••
The lobby of the River Falls police department is dorm-room small, but police captain Roger Leque stays busy.
His office is within stumbling distance of all the downtown River Falls bars, and, even in a smaller town, it’s common on a Saturday night to respond to rowdy behavior.
There are stories about quarterbacks guzzling shots with the locals at Coach’s, a popular hangout on Main Street. Many of them date back much further than the Dick Vermeil era. But in more than 15 years on the job, Leque hasn’t seen any rise in incidents when the football players arrive each summer.
He doesn’t even staff extra officers for the Chiefs’ three-week stay from late July to mid-August. The only time the force is increased is for crowd control during scrimmages with other teams or Family Fun Night.
“It’s pretty much uneventful from our perspective,” Leque said. “They conduct themselves professionally and really are great visitors. Once in a while we may have an issue, but we just deal with it as is.
“I think from a community standpoint, (Chiefs camp) is one of the highlights of our summer. Having a professional team practice in our community is great.”
In River Falls, fans can come within feet of their favorite players and watch them ride bicycles around town.
It’s not that way in many places anymore. The majority of the NFL teams camp close to home. Players sleep in their own beds, which lends itself to stability.
When the trouble multiplied last summer, the townsfolk worried that the Chiefs might pack up and never return.
“Certainly it’s good for business,” said Mark Kinders, the public affairs director at UW-River Falls. “I was involved from the very beginning from trying to get an NFL team here, and we used to say about south Main Street that in August you could pitch a tent and not get hit by a car. It’s a lot different now.”
•••
When the Chiefs made their selections in the 2006 draft, several of them were hailed as “character picks.”
First-round defensive end Tamba Hali escaped death in war-torn Liberia. Quarterback Brodie Croyle’s family runs a ranch for underprivileged children.
Peterson, who often stays away from questionable characters, judges decisions on a risk-vs.-reward basis.
“With Dale Carter, the (20th) pick (in 1992), you think the risk is worth the reward,” Peterson said. “And he is a guy I worried about every night for seven years. I had phone calls from police in Westport and everything else. And we gave him an awful lot of counseling. There are players like that. You choose to deal with them or not.”
Edwards isn’t giving his players much time to get in trouble. On regular working nights, meetings wrap up at about 10 o’clock, and the curfew follows at 11. At least one player said the staff seems to be monitoring bed-checks heavier.
Edwards won’t say a thing. He tells them he trusts them.
He said he’ll deal with a problem if it comes along. He stopped and smiled.
“But it’s not going to happen,” he said. “I just believe that.”
All’s quiet at camp
Lessons learned and Edwards’ influence have helped team keep news about on-field activities.
By ELIZABETH MERRILL
The Kansas City Star
RIVER FALLS, Wis. | - The first night off came on a Tuesday, day five of training camp, and the trappings of any red-blooded young American male were there for the plucking. Two-for-one Leinenkugel’s flowing from the taps. College-aged women with Wisconsin accents, yah-noo, angling to meet a strapping young celeb.
By day five, it’s time to escape. Lawrence Tynes has been there, tired of the heat, the meetings, the three squares in the cafeteria. And on Tuesday night, the Chiefs kicker cut loose.
In his dorm room. Watching a “48 Hours Mystery” with the punter. Calling his wife, then turning in by 8:45.
8:45 p.m.
“I didn’t want to put myself in any kind of position,” Tynes said. “Not that I have a problem with it … It’s just better safe than sorry.
“There’s nothing out there.”
Trouble was out there last summer, and Tynes was one of four players to have run-ins with the law in a bizarre 24-hour span. It made more news than Larry Johnson’s playing-time angst or Will Shields’ aching back, and followed the team back to Kansas City.
One year after the infamous weekend of wilding, the party, at least for now, has been crashed. Booze is replaced by bed-checks. The bars down Main Street once packed with players seem a little empty. That’s not to say that the Chiefs aren’t stepping out and imbibing when the lights come on in this middle-America hamlet of 15,000 that proudly waves red-and-white signs throughout town welcoming Kansas City to its summer home.
They’re just not stomping out.
On Wednesday morning, Chiefs president/general manager Carl Peterson quietly stood in a hallway and gave one of the most meaningful early statistics in the Herm Edwards regime — the team was off from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m., and there were zero arrests and no known incidents.
“At least not that I know of,” Peterson said. “I don’t think it’s any tighter of a rein. He just said, ‘Hey, conduct yourselves as professionals. I expect you to do that, and don’t disappoint me.’ And I don’t think anyone wanted to disappoint him.”
•••
There are perks to flying 470 miles northeast to camp, and every year, a local tavern supplies the Chiefs coaching staff with 20 cases of beer, free of charge.
Edwards told the popular bar, a corporate sponsor, that they didn’t want it this year.
“We don’t need them,” he said.
By the second week of the Edwards regime, the players were well-versed on their new coach’s background. He’s the son of an Army sergeant, he gets up at 4 a.m. to run every day, he salutes the flag and calls his mother.
Edwards wears a sweatshirt during practice, in 100-degree heat, because he wants the guys to know he’s out there feeling it with them. Do they know he felt it a long time ago? A long-haired cornerback in the 1970s, a Berkeley guy, and he walked into all the temptations?
“But I also know where the line is, and I never crossed the line,” Edwards said. “I had a good upbringing by my parents. To this day, I’m always afraid to embarrass their name. That’s something my dad gave me. I always think about that.”
Edwards let out a sly grin when asked if the players have been staying away from the bars. He can’t stop them from the nightlife — the collective-bargaining agreement requires that they get time off during camp — and he won’t tell them what to do.
But there are at least two known spots that are off limits for players now. One of them is Shooter’s, a joint just off Main that prides itself on serving peanuts and wine. The bar has changed hands and was formerly called Boomer’s.
That’s where Tynes, on an early Sunday morning last summer, temporarily lost his cool. He was charged with breaking a bouncer’s nose.
On Thursday night, a perfect midsummer evening, Shooter’s was relatively empty save for a few locals. The old Chiefs helmet outside was replaced by Packers gear. The bartenders said they haven’t seen any football players.
“I didn’t even know about the trouble last year,” Kristin Wilson said as she sipped a cosmopolitan on her night off. “I knew they were in town, and everybody’s kind of wondering where they are.
“I think the community is kind of sad they haven’t been able to see them.”
•••
The police scanner was busy in the Northwoods in the early morning hours of Aug. 14. Coach Dick Vermeil had given the team the night off, and the players split off in different directions.
Defensive tackle Junior Siavii and safety Greg Wesley went to Minneapolis, where police were called to a disturbance at a swank hotel. Siavii allegedly assaulted a doorman, and police had to restrain him by putting a spit hood over his head.
Up in Stillwater, Minn., Todd Collins was hanging out with his quarterback buddies when things got rowdy. According to a police report, he jumped on a speaker, struck a security manager, and was threatened with a Taser. No one was charged in the matter, and Vermeil called the events an aberration.
But the discipline issue dogged the team throughout a 10-win season.
“I have to look at every single instance,” Peterson said. “The deal with the three quarterbacks was B.S. I was personally with them 30 minutes before all this happened, and I knew how much they had to drink and ultimately, nothing came out of it. An awful lot of news media but nothing, no charges. Junior Siavii and the stuff in Minneapolis, the police reports … you’ve got to go with what they said and that ended up costing a lot of people some money.
“The incident down here with our kicker … stupid.”
Tynes said he learned a lot from the incident, which happened in the middle of an already shaky camp. The legal troubles affected his kicks, but he eventually found a groove and finished with one of his best seasons.
The hardest part, he said, was calling his fiancée, who’s now his wife. She’d read about it in the papers and heard his name on TV. But Tynes doesn’t blame the fishbowl existence of camp on his troubles.
“I just made a bad decision,” he said. “I should’ve just walked away and went about my business.”
•••
The lobby of the River Falls police department is dorm-room small, but police captain Roger Leque stays busy.
His office is within stumbling distance of all the downtown River Falls bars, and, even in a smaller town, it’s common on a Saturday night to respond to rowdy behavior.
There are stories about quarterbacks guzzling shots with the locals at Coach’s, a popular hangout on Main Street. Many of them date back much further than the Dick Vermeil era. But in more than 15 years on the job, Leque hasn’t seen any rise in incidents when the football players arrive each summer.
He doesn’t even staff extra officers for the Chiefs’ three-week stay from late July to mid-August. The only time the force is increased is for crowd control during scrimmages with other teams or Family Fun Night.
“It’s pretty much uneventful from our perspective,” Leque said. “They conduct themselves professionally and really are great visitors. Once in a while we may have an issue, but we just deal with it as is.
“I think from a community standpoint, (Chiefs camp) is one of the highlights of our summer. Having a professional team practice in our community is great.”
In River Falls, fans can come within feet of their favorite players and watch them ride bicycles around town.
It’s not that way in many places anymore. The majority of the NFL teams camp close to home. Players sleep in their own beds, which lends itself to stability.
When the trouble multiplied last summer, the townsfolk worried that the Chiefs might pack up and never return.
“Certainly it’s good for business,” said Mark Kinders, the public affairs director at UW-River Falls. “I was involved from the very beginning from trying to get an NFL team here, and we used to say about south Main Street that in August you could pitch a tent and not get hit by a car. It’s a lot different now.”
•••
When the Chiefs made their selections in the 2006 draft, several of them were hailed as “character picks.”
First-round defensive end Tamba Hali escaped death in war-torn Liberia. Quarterback Brodie Croyle’s family runs a ranch for underprivileged children.
Peterson, who often stays away from questionable characters, judges decisions on a risk-vs.-reward basis.
“With Dale Carter, the (20th) pick (in 1992), you think the risk is worth the reward,” Peterson said. “And he is a guy I worried about every night for seven years. I had phone calls from police in Westport and everything else. And we gave him an awful lot of counseling. There are players like that. You choose to deal with them or not.”
Edwards isn’t giving his players much time to get in trouble. On regular working nights, meetings wrap up at about 10 o’clock, and the curfew follows at 11. At least one player said the staff seems to be monitoring bed-checks heavier.
Edwards won’t say a thing. He tells them he trusts them.
He said he’ll deal with a problem if it comes along. He stopped and smiled.
“But it’s not going to happen,” he said. “I just believe that.”