Regina Leader-Post

Big Red has done enough to earn a big ring

Andy Reid doesn’t show you what he’s feeling, but you can feel it anyway

- JERRY BREWER

MIAMI It’s a curious notion to consider Andy Reid the emotional favourite of Super Bowl LIV because, for the past 20 years, he has tried to show as little emotion as possible. Some might call his public persona Belichick-ian, but if you really scrutinize the news conference demeanour of both coaches, Bill Belichick is merely the angrier version of Reid, the truest and most committed master of monotone.

Still, there’s something endearing about the Kansas City Chiefs coach nicknamed Big Red. He’s more Big Gray now, suddenly 61, no longer the young Green Bay quarterbac­ks coach who went to Philadelph­ia and built a sustainabl­e winner that achieved everything except a Super Bowl triumph. Steady success defines him: 15 playoff appearance­s over 21 seasons in Philadelph­ia and Kansas City, just three losing campaigns, 207 regular season victories and 14 more post-season wins. Yet Reid might be most known for recovering from heartbreak.

There are the agonizing defeats on the football field, including five losses in the conference championsh­ip round. And there was the greater, personal loss in 2012 when his oldest son, Garrett, died of a heroin overdose. At the end of that season, Reid lost his job with the Eagles after finishing 4-12, the worst record of his career. Instead of taking a break, he jumped at the chance to rebuild the Chiefs, who were a 2-14 team when he arrived. Under Reid, the Chiefs haven’t had a losing season, and now he’s leading them to their first Super Bowl in 50 years. And they have arrived in Miami with a 24-year-old MVP quarterbac­k, and the fastest and most stylish offence the NFL has seen in quite some time.

This is Reid’s second Super Bowl appearance, and though it seems Kansas City is set up to chase championsh­ips for several more years, you should know better than to dream that far ahead. Reid definitely knows better. His best opportunit­y is before him right now; this game offers no assurances about the future. Reid understand­s how hard it is to get here. With 221 victories in the regular season and playoffs combined, he occupies a dubious place in history as the winningest NFL coach who hasn’t won the big one.

Many people who respect his consistenc­y and human decency would chew a hole in the wood to help him get through that championsh­ip door. But for as much as Reid probably wants it, his perspectiv­e remains as balanced as ever.

Reid won’t make it about him. He never has, not even when he was grieving the unthinkabl­e loss of his son. When you want him to say more than “He did a nice job” in answering a question, you consider him boring. But this week, resisting talk of his legacy as he prepares for San Francisco, it’s easier to admire Reid’s approach.

“I’m not good with all of that,” Reid said when asked whether a Super Bowl win could boost his Pro Football Hall-of-fame candidacy.

“I’m just trying to get where we can do well against the 49ers and win that game.”

Reid was the first coach I covered after college, during a one-year stint with the Philadelph­ia Inquirer. He was tough for a young journalist because he wouldn’t elevate a mediocre question with a delightful anecdote. But when he wasn’t standing behind a bouquet of microphone­s, Reid was different. He would do quick one-onones with the beat writers during the week if you needed him, and during those moments you realized he wasn’t just a coach behind a lectern with a purposely flat affect because he hated the media. In private, Reid is charismati­c. He’s passionate and more spirited than he seems. He’s funny, and his humour extends beyond the disarming, self-deprecatin­g jokes he often makes about his weight when he wants to lighten the mood.

But more than anything, I remember he had a way of connecting and instilling confidence in people, and when I was 22 and in over my head, it meant a lot to realize the seemingly gruff head coach could have a calming effect.

At the end of our conversati­ons,

Reid used to say compliment­ary things about my writing style, and we had ongoing chats about poetry and creating images with words. We would talk about our love for reading. All the while, he was patient in helping me learn some of the nuances needed to cover a profession­al sports beat. It wasn’t some fantastic, call-me-anytime, I’ll-tell-you-anything relationsh­ip, but it had good substance.

“He’s a great man,” said Kansas City offensive co-ordinator Eric Bieniemy, who played for Reid during his final season in 1999. “He’s a great human. He’s a great mentor. He’s a great leader.”

On Sunday, the Chiefs wore white and red Hawaiian shirts during their flight to South Florida to celebrate Reid’s return to the Super Bowl. On Monday, the players wore another one of his favourite items, Nike Air Force 1 shoes, to the opening night event. Reid has always had close relationsh­ips with his players, but he seems especially close to his current team.

“It’s literally like playing with a father figure,” punter Dustin Colquitt said.

Reid gave his current defensive co-ordinator, Steve Spagnuolo, his first NFL job 20 years ago. Spagnuolo considers it the most important relationsh­ip of his career.

“It’s because of the respect I have for him,” Spagnuolo said. “Andy’s the very best in the league, in my opinion. He’s rock-solid. Never up, never down. When it’s going bad ... when I first came to Philadelph­ia, I remember we had a couple of bad losses, and you’re going into the staff meeting and you’re waiting for the head coach to rip everybody. Never Andy. Just steady. ‘Let’s keep doing what we’re doing, guys,’ and everybody buys into that. It’s easy to believe in Andy Reid because of the way he is. It really is.”

Reid ranks sixth among coaches on the career victories list. The five ahead of him are legends: Don Shula, George Halas, Belichick, Tom Landry and Earl (Curly) Lambeau. As an offensive innovator, he has grown from being a sharp teacher and play-caller in the West Coast offence to the creator of a hybrid system that mixes West Coast principles with college concepts designed to put speedy players in space. And with Patrick Mahomes as his quarterbac­k, it feels as though there are still possibilit­ies left to imagine.

In stabilizin­g two previously mercurial franchises, Reid has done work that would excite just about any coaching purist. The only thing he lacks is that Lombardi Trophy.

So here he is, finally back at the Super Bowl. And unless you’re a 49ers fan or root for one of the Chiefs’ fiercest rivals, you should be drawn to Reid, his story and his pursuit of the elusive.

“I’ve had so many good experience­s in my career,” Reid said. “I’m not thinking about pressure or anything. Just taking it all in and getting ready to try to play a good football game. I’m going to enjoy this.”

On the outside, he’s chill and monotone, as usual. So you’ll have to want it for him. Reid will keep his true feelings tucked underneath his trademark bushy moustache. But, come on, Big Red has done enough to deserve a big ring, hasn’t he?

If he finally breaks through, let’s see him try to suppress those emotions.

Andy’s the very best in the league, in my opinion. He’s rock-solid ... It’s easy to believe in Andy Reid because of the way he is

 ?? MARK BROWN/GETTY IMAGES ?? Kansas City Chiefs head coach Andy Reid, left, is an offensive innovator, and working with MVP quarterbac­k Patrick Mahomes could mean a Super Bowl.
MARK BROWN/GETTY IMAGES Kansas City Chiefs head coach Andy Reid, left, is an offensive innovator, and working with MVP quarterbac­k Patrick Mahomes could mean a Super Bowl.

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