 |
 |
 |
|
Bill Walsh wasn't a genius. But he was close.
|
|
| Bill Walsh knew how to put people in position to succeed -- or help his team get there. (AP) |
Yes, he was great for the game, but not because he developed the West Coast offense or saw something in Steve Young that others did not. It was because he understood its people and how to position them for results.
He traded for Young, then used him as a foil for Joe Montana. If Montana was struggling, Walsh didn't hesitate to call on the promising Young -- which, Walsh knew, would infuriate Joe.
But the idea wasn't to placate Montana; it was to win games. And if Walsh could push Montana with Young, he would.
Walsh made the 49ers a dominant franchise for two decades, and he rebuilt them twice. But anyone who follows the game knows that. What you don't know is who Bill Walsh was -- and I didn't, either, until dealing with him in 1999.
The 49ers were languishing through their first losing year since the strike-truncated 1982 season, and Walsh was trying to salvage a sinking ship. Midway through the season, a member of the team's public relations department tapped me on the shoulder at practice to tell me Walsh wanted to see me.
Now, Walsh and I had gotten to know each other years before, when we played tennis. But this conversation, I knew, would have nothing to do with tennis.
It would be about a critical piece I'd written on the 49ers for the San Jose Mercury News, a story where I questioned where the club was going and how Walsh and Co. were responsible for moves that put it in an impossible situation.
I knew I was about to be taken to the woodshed, and I was more than willing to defend my position. Only I didn't have to.
When I entered the second-floor office Walsh occupied, he asked me to sit down. Then he disarmed me by asking how he could facilitate a better working relationship between us. When I told him he could start by explaining some of his moves, he said he would.
"OK," I told him, "but on the record."
Walsh was unmoved.