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Glory days never far when Shula visits

The jaw still juts sharply forward. The eyes still narrow as he makes his points. The fire, you suspect, still burns deep inside.

By GARY SHELTON
Published October 24, 2007

ADVERTISEMENT [Getty Images (1995)] Don Shula, shown in his last season, says that after 12 years of retirement, he still misses the action of game day.

The jaw still juts sharply forward. The eyes still narrow as he makes his points. The fire, you suspect, still burns deep inside.

So, what about it, Don?

Why not announce your comeback right here, right now?

Don Shula, the best by-gum coach there ever was, laughs loudly at the thought. He is 77 now, and he has not prowled a sideline or snarled at an official in a dozen years. Still, Shula does not exactly say no.

Wouldn't this be a perfect time for Shula to return like an old general? He's younger than Bobby Bowden, and the Dolphins could use a bit of his drive. He's younger than Joe Paterno, and the NFL could use some of his competitiveness.

Shula laughs again and softly shakes his head.

The thing is, Shula is pretty good at this retirement thing, and who would have thought it? Coaches, by and large, are dreadful at retirement. When a man spends his life consumed by a sport, the worst loss of all can be when it comes time to give it up.

Shula seems to have adjusted well. He laughs a lot, and the old stories still come easily to him.

"You know what I miss?" Shula said. "I miss game day. My wife (Mary Anne) gets upset when I tell her this, but there isn't anything you can do that will replace those three hours of action. The decisionmaking. The emotional roller coaster you're on.

"I remember how I used to get home after a game, and in the middle of the night, I would sit upright in bed and start replaying the game, thinking about what happened, wondering if it really did."

It was Tuesday morning, and Shula sat at a table in the Tampa location of Shula's Steakhouse.

There are certain people in life you will meet who make the clock run backward, who make you feel the way you felt two decades earlier. Shula is one of those. He walks into the room, and suddenly, it is 1985 again, and you are a young beat reporter about to cover Shula's team as it upsets the previously unbeaten Bears on a Monday night.

For the better part of six years, while working for the Miami Herald, I trailed after Shula with a tape recorder. There were times he was reflective, and times he was funny, and yes, times when he was angry. There has never been a Dolphin beat writer who didn't hear the volume of Shula's voice.

They were electric years in Miami. There was Marino and the Marks Brothers. There were the Killer Bees. Head above it all, there was Shula.

"We had some times, didn't we?" Shula said.

Yeah, you say. We did.

As Shula ate in the restaurant, most of those times surrounded him like a picture gallery. He would tell a story about Dan Marino, and you would look over his shoulder, and there was a framed picture of Marino. He talked about Earl Morrall, and sure enough, there was Morrall.

So many moments, so many memories. The stories tumble out of Shula in bunches. The Snowplow Game, a 3-0 loss to New England where a snowplow paved the way for the Patriots to kick their winning field goal. The Tom Matte game, where running back Matte moved to quarterback because of injuries. The field goal by Green Bay's Don Chandler that was called good even though films later showed it was wide. About Joe Robbie, the old Dolphins owner who was constantly juggling money from one place to another to make things work.

There was the time, Shula says, that he was going to embarrass former wide receiver Jimmy Orr in a team meeting because Orr wasn't blocking downfield. He stopped the videotape and said, "Jimmy, you aren't hitting anyone. If you look at all of Jim Brown's great runs, there is Ray Renfro at the end of them blocking the last man." Orr asked if he could say something in his defense. "You don't ask a thoroughbred to do the job of a mule," Orr said.

Then there was the time that Shula was introduced to Don Johnson, the actor from Miami Vice. Shula, being a consumed sort, didn't realize Johnson worked for a TV show and not for the police department.

"Coach, it's a pleasure to meet you," Johnson said. "You do a great job."

"Well, you guys do a great job, too," Shula said.

"Thanks," Johnson said. "You'll have to come watch us shoot sometime."

As Shula walked away, he turned to a PR assistant and said, "What? Are they going to shoot a bunch of crooks?"

Yeah, Shula still keeps up. He stayed up Monday night watching the Colts beat the Jaguars because, after all, his son Mike is a Jags assistant. He attended the Patriots' rout of the Dolphins on Sunday.

In the meantime, Shula golfs. He travels. He enjoys his 16 grandchildren.

Somewhere in there, don't you think there ought time be time for one more ride in the NFL?

You know, for old times' sake?

[Last modified October 23, 2007, 23:31:39]