College football

It takes two to make D go right

USF's co-defensive coordinators have found the right chemistry to lead a resurgent unit.

By GREG AUMAN
Published November 24, 2005

TAMPA - Jim Leavitt learned many things under Bill Snyder at Kansas State, but of the philosophies he has carried over to his program at USF, one has proven especially valuable: Two defensive coordinators are better than one.

He learned that when he was the Wildcats' co-coordinator, working alongside Bob Stoops to create a defense that was the nation's best in their final season together in 1995.

Now, his Bulls are two wins from a Big East championship, and again, defense is a major factor, with Wally Burnham and Rick Kravitz combining to lead a dominating unit.

"You always have somebody on the defensive front, and somebody on the back end," said Leavitt, whose team is the only Big East squad with co-defensive coordinators. "I handled the front and Bob had the back, and that worked well for us. Rick's a great coach, and did it by himself here and was very successful. Wally's a tremendous coach, too, and they've done a great job together."

Kravitz, 51, was Leavitt's first hire, a fellow Dixie Hollins graduate he'd known and played with growing up but had never coached with. Burnham, 64, is the Bulls' most experienced coach, having played for Bear Bryant at Alabama and coached under Bobby Bowden for nine years.

"It works well because neither of us have egos," said Kravitz, who works from the sideline while Burnham watches from the press box. "We may disagree on things, but we always come to a decision together, and we go with it on game day. We're able to draw on each other's insights, and it makes for a real good relationship."

Leavitt thought enough of Kravitz that he started selling him on coming to USF three months before he got the job in December 1995. Kravitz, who had run the defense at Florida A&M for eight years, was defensive coordinator at West Alabama, "living in a trailer," and he signed with the Bulls literally minutes after Leavitt.

"The chance to come back home, you're going to jump at any time you get that," Kravitz said. "I think Jim signed his contract at 9, I signed mine at 9:30."

Burnham had known Leavitt from his Tallahassee days when Leavitt and Stoops, two young defensive minds, would visit with the FSU assistants during spring drills to talk about defensive schemes. Burnham had been fired from South Carolina with coach Brad Scott after the 1998 season and was out of coaching for the first fall in 32 years, working in sales and unsure he'd return to football.

Now, in his sixth season with the Bulls, he barely remembers how he got by without football, and even knee replacement surgery this spring couldn't keep him away from his defense. He said he has known he wanted to be a coach since his freshman year of high school in Pell City, Ala., where he grew up poor in a family of cotton mill workers.

"My coach called me in and said, "If you want to get out of this environment, you can be a pretty good football player if you work at it, earn a college scholarship,' " Burnham said. "That built a fire in me. When he took me under his wing, encouraged me like that, I knew I wanted to be like him, wanted to influence somebody like he'd influenced me."

Burnham played center and linebacker for Bryant from 1960-61, and the legendary coach taught him how to be tough and caring at the same time. After coaching at small colleges and two seasons in the USFL, he settled in at FSU, where he shined as linebackers coach, molding the likes of Bucs star Derrick Brooks.

Brooks, who split time between safety and linebacker as a college freshman, remembers Burnham as the coach who taught him the position he's now synonymous with.

"Coach Burnham is probably one of the first guys to see my potential at linebacker," Brooks said. "I just found myself staying in his meetings a little longer as the season went on. I think when I weighed about 200 pounds is when they told me to stay in there with him and don't come back. ... He's been a great coach, a real good teacher. ... Today, I just thank God for his friendship."

His players still hold Burnham in a certain reverence, respecting the caliber of players who have benefited from playing linebacker for him.

"He's like a god to us," defensive end Terrence Royal said. "He's been through it all, so wise about it. He cares a great deal for us."

Said defensive end Jason Allen, who like Burnham is in his sixth year with the Bulls: "The knowledge that coach Burnham has is beyond what I can understand. He's coached great players before. Brooks is one of the all-time linebackers ever, and coach allows you to see more of the game, understand it better."

Much of the Bulls' turnaround from 4-7 to their current 6-3 can be traced to the defense, which gave up more than 40 points five times last season. This year, USF ranks sixth nationally in turnover margin, 12th in scoring defense (17.7 points per game) and 20th in total defense (312 yards).

Players credit that to a low-pressure family atmosphere ("You don't always have to scream, though we do our share of yelling," Kravitz says) with an emphasis on simple hard work. Burnham calls last year's defense "an embarrassment," saying that lack of leadership and dedication on the field is more apparent now that he sees how consistently this year's defense has played. Coaches have complained about results, about execution this fall, but never effort.

"They play hard. They may not always go in the right direction, but they go there full-speed," Kravitz said. "We're not always the biggest or fastest, but we'll play as hard as anybody."

The emotional bonds extend to the coaches' actual families. Burnham's wife, Barbara, may be as well-liked as her husband, making a cake for the linebackers each week, or bringing sausage and biscuits on Saturday mornings. Kravitz has a laid back, self-deprecating sense of humor. Still dripping from ice water dumped on his head after a victory at Rutgers, he suggested his players wanted to give him pneumonia so somebody else could coach them. In truth, the Bulls credit trust in their coaches, extending far beyond football, for much of their success.

"If I need anything, I could go to coach Kravitz, like he was my father, and coach Burnham is the same way," cornerback Mike Jenkins said. "Last year, I don't think we had fun as a defense, we all went out and got mad at each other. Now, we make mistakes, we pick each other up and get them on the next play."

And just as the two coordinators credit their success to being able to co-exist, both say this year's defense is close to a championship because it's close-knit. The bond is often forged not in meetings or huddles but with a knock on an office door after practice.

"We may get upset with you at practice, but you can still come in here after practice and talk to me about anything," Kravitz said. "Some places, it might not always be that way. Here, it's always been "I care about you as a person' before anything else."

Times staff writer Joanne Korth contributed to this report.

[Last modified November 24, 2005, 00:18:19]