Running the show

REDMOND — Dusk is closing in, and the darkening sky overhead threatens to spit rain once again. And still the big man with the white baseball cap turned backward continues to teach this obscure football lesson inside an empty stadium.

Despite the refrigerated and damp conditions that chill the players to the bone, they cling to his every word and jump when the big man barks commands. He has them in his clutches because he has what they want. He is the benefactor who has given them a place and an opportunity to live their dreams.

Everyone here simply calls him 'Coach,' and like his players, Sam Adams has temporarily left his day job to fulfill his fantasies. This is his team. He purchased the Eastside Hawks, an expansion semipro football team, a few months ago. He is the owner, chief executive officer, general manager, head coach, defensive coordinator, special teams coach and works almost exclusively with the quarterbacks and receivers.

He is the entire show, a Pro Bowler and Super Bowl champion who has chosen to spend his time coaching and marketing minor-league football.

And this is what the Seahawks and the Ravens never knew about the big man. They never understood his passion for the game. They never realized that he was much more than brute force and never suspected how much he studies the game.

And now he is a teacher, this 28-year-old giant of a man who made millions as a defensive tackle in Seattle and Baltimore.

"I think I'm a good teacher," Adams said. "I know the game. I listen to everything that I've been taught and I've had some good coaches. I've worked with children. I've worked with adults. I think I have an ability to communicate with people. I think that's what being a good coach is all about."

His eight years in the NFL gives him instant credibility among his new players. His tremendous girth gives him presence, and the whistle attached to a string around his neck suggests he is in charge.

Then there's his ever-present scowl that keeps players on edge, and every so often, a wide grin eases the tension in his face.

When he's out on the field, Adams doesn't think about his current unstable condition in the NFL. He is unemployed, although recent reports have linked him with the Oakland Raiders and Minnesota Vikings. There's also a chance that he might return to Baltimore.

But none of that seems to matter now.

"If something happens before training camp, I'm there," he said. "If not, I'll be sitting here with this team."

Adams makes everything sound so simple. He has no doubt that he'll play in the NFL next season, just as he believes he'll be successful in his newest endeavor.

"I would hope that I can keep my cool, because I can get excitable," Adams said. "(Mike) Holmgren and Brian (Billick) were two good examples for me. Mike is very organized. Mike has one of the best programs I've ever seen. You can't go anywhere else and be any more prepared.

"And with Brian, he can talk. If you think Mike can talk, then Brian is for real. Brian will have you believing that he can still play. Brian will have you believing that his wife can lead us to the Super Bowl playing quarterback.

"From both of those guys, I've picked up things, and now I'm just being me."

Adams teaches his players all that he learned from his father, Sam Sr., who played 10 years in the NFL and all that he learned with Texas A&M, the Seahawks and the Ravens.

He throws in a few life lessons, as well. He tells his players, who range in age from 20 to 43, about responsibility and commitment and they nod in agreement.

Not one among them finds it strange that Adams, a self-confessed head case, is now the moral compass for his players.

When he left the Seahawks two years ago, he was labeled disgruntled employee No. 95 because of an apparent rift with Holmgren. Adams contends that the dispute about his value to the team was blown out of proportion, but says his career improved when he joined the Ravens.

"Being a player is one thing," he said. "You can act and do things that you can't do as a coach."

As many as 40 to 60 players attend the Eastside Hawks practices, an attendance that doubles what the other teams in the Northwest League are able to draw.

For three days a week this summer, they will give themselves to him. The regular season begins Saturday against the Washington Cavaliers at Evergreen College in Olympia and concludes in August.

The further you step away from bright lights and big money of professional sports, the simpler the games become.

This distilled version, stripped of the ego, greed and cynicism is almost pure, although the players here are no angels. They are the reformed and the rejects. They are an eclectic collection of wannabes, has-beens and probably-won't-be's mixed together with a handful of might-have-beens.

Brian Carter could have been somebody. Those are his words. He laughs when he says it, but a big part of him isn't joking. He's serious about this game. By trade, he's a computer technician, but in his heart, he's a receiver.

His goals are modest. After spending a season with the Yakima Shockwave, a professional indoor football team, Carter, 25, hopes to advance to the next level of the indoor game. And from there, who knows?

"I'm not going to say the NFL because that's too far out there," he said. "But I will say the CFL. I don't know. It's one step at a time. ... I'm out here because I love to do it, and if I can take it farther and farther each year, then I'll try."

Marty Northcroft used to feel that way five years ago, but now his ambitions have changed. The 29-year-old marketing manager for the Seattle Mariners plays with the Hawks to relive time he played defensive tackle at Washington Sate.

"My body feels OK, I still love the game and I go out and compete and have fun and act like I'm 20 years old again," he said. "I know there's guys out there trying to get to the league, and if an opportunity came up, then I'd probably look into it.

"But realistically, I've got a solid job and I'm not hanging on any pipe dreams. I know the NFL has no need for 5-10 defensive linemen. So I'm not kidding myself. I like hitting people and playing football."

Most of the players tell similar stories. But a few dream about the NFL and are quick to tell you about Eric Swann, the multi-talented defensive end who skipped college and played in a semipro league before signing with the Arizona Cardinals.

"A lot of guys here have the ability to play college ball or arena ball from what I've seen so far," Adams said. "And that's about all I can say right now. I'm not trying to pump these guys heads up and have them believing they can play in the league because that wouldn't be fair."

Somewhere in this group is Matthias Wilson. From a distance, he is an anonymous figure who looks like any other weekend warrior. What distinguishes Wilson, a 5-feet-11, 215-pound running back, is his remarkable past and uncertain future.

In 1997, he put together one of the finest seasons any high-school kid in this state has ever produced. He ran for more than 1,000 yards — in the playoffs — and finished the season with a state-record 2,678 yards.

That was five years ago. If his football career had a storybook ending, he would be entering his senior season for the Washington Huskies and preparing for life in the NFL.

But Wilson is here because in three seasons at Washington, he carried just 14 times for 67 yards. He left the team because he had been reduced to a supporting role. Last year, he finished with eight carries for 26 yards and one reception for 9 yards.

At 22, he doesn't want to believe his football days are coming to an end.

Wilson might return to the Huskies in the fall or transfer to another school. But for now, he's playing football on Saturdays with the Hawks.

"I don't see it as a big risk at all," he said. "I see it as an opportunity to get better ... It can be a little frustrating because you've got people out here with different agendas, but we all want to win and have fun. That's the link between all of us."

They are attorneys seeking an outlet, accountants with a death wish and mechanics reliving high-school glory. They talk about competing for the love of the game, and the passion surrounding semipro football is similar to the emotions that exist in minor-league baseball or small-town, high-school sports.

They practice and will play most of their games at Redmond High School in front of small, but boisterous fans comprised of family members and friends. Adams' popularity has led to crossover appeal, as evidenced by the large gathering that watched the Hawks' first exhibition game two weeks ago.

"Win or lose, I've had a good day," said Lisa Balmes, Adams' personal assistant who coordinates publicity for the Hawks. "We've gone into elementary schools and have had promotion events around town to get the word out and connect with the community."

Adams is at the center of it all. This carnival revolves around him and his vision. He is learning on the fly about the business and coaching involved in football.

"As a veteran player, you coach yourself or the people around you on every down," Adams said. "A good coach told me before that in college, you're more of a father figure.

"But in the pros, a coach is more of a brother figure and he's there to help teach the do's and don'ts, so to speak, and to teach you the system. And that's what I'm doing to these guys. I'm trying to teach them, I'm trying to be a brother figure to them and give them an opportunity as well."

Unwittingly, Adams is the fresh new face of a beer-league brand of football whose past luminaries include former NFL running back Michael Oliphant and ESPN commentator Kenny Mayne.

"When you have the privilege of working with somebody that is from the NFL, it automatically draws attention not just from the players, but from fans and the media," said Jeff Scott, owner/coach of the King County Jaguars. "We have to make sure we best utilize that. The league isn't going to change, but Sam is going to bring more attention than it probably deserves."

The Northwest Football League, which predates the Seahawks and originated in 1961 as the Pacific Football League, might be one of the best-kept sports secrets around these parts.

Since 1971, there have been 49 teams, from Everett to Oregon, affiliated with the league. Nine are expected to compete this season. Rosters are in constant flux as players jump from team to team. The nonprofit league operates on a shoestring budget where most revenue comes from sponsors and gate receipts.

Adams is reluctant to divulge how much he's invested in the Hawks. One owner estimates he's spent between $50,000 to $60,000.

"The only thing we don't provide is insurance for the guys," Adams said. "They have to provide their own. But as far as helmets and equipment, putting together practice schedules and game plans and things of that nature, that's me.

"The marketing and advertising, I'm funding everything. ... But starting up a club is a lot different than maintaining one. It won't be this much work next year."

The Multnomah County (Ore.) Bucs are the defending champions, but the Puget Sound Jets, who entered the league in 1991 and have captured six championships, are a perennial favorite.

Adams isn't talking about winning championships yet, at least not publicly.

"I remember our very first practice when he stood there and told us that we were going to win the national title," Carter said. "There were a few looks like, 'Yeah, right.' But there were a lot more people who just believed that because he's Sam Adams. He's won a Super Bowl. If anybody knows how to win, he does."

Percy Allen can be reached at 206-464-2278 or at pallen@seattletimes.com.