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Still intense after all these years photo by Drew Fleming Rumrey also has a mellow side By Tim Trower The veteran football coach gamely insists he hasn�t softened. "My desire to work toward perfect execution ... I don�t think that part has changed," says North Medford�s Rod Rumrey. Just then, granddaughter Alexandra gurgles in his ear and he baby talks back. Ahem. "And," he says with conviction, "if you ask the players, they�d find it really hard to believe that I�ve mellowed." Moments later, he reacts in mock horror to another scene in his living room. Grandson Quinton has grabbed something that is very much a no-no. Rumrey feigns outrage, then laughs and says, "I�ve got footballs all over the place, and he picks up a soccer ball." More chuckles. Yes, but ... "I might sound a little more relaxed," he says, suggesting his stomach has more knots than a shipyard. But before long, he�s telling how on this day, Tuesday, he spent more time talking to the media than on any day in his 30-year coaching career. Newspapers, TV, he was hounded. And he acquiesced. "Without a doubt," Rumrey says incredulously, "the most interviews. Several years ago, I probably would have cut things off. I wouldn�t have given that much time. I�m sure I wouldn�t have." After three decades in a business that sends emotions on a carnival ride and purees nerve endings, Rumrey is enjoying a certain amount of serenity. He is the eye of the storm. Sure, the Rumrey in his living room surrounded by family contrasts with the one crouched in the hit position at practice, veins straining as he details how to shed a blocker. Or the one delivering a pregame speech so impassioned the players don�t need an open door to exit the locker room. Or the wild-eyed one on the sidelines who could be the poster boy for caffeine, yelling instructions, directing traffic, conferring with officials. But there appears to be a balance in this often frenetic existence that isn�t visible to all eyes. It occurs at home. It occurs in the relationships with former players who still hold dear their days with Rumrey as their mentor. "He�s fiery and intense," says 18-year Ashland coach Jim Nagel, who has battled Rumrey teams for 13 years. Most coaches are, Nagel concedes, but Rumrey�s game face seems to be on "from Monday morning until late Friday night." Kerry Curtis, who starred on North�s 1993 state championship team, talked to a number of people who watched the Tornado�s semifinal win over Churchill last Saturday. On one controversial play, when a long North touchdown was called back, the Tornado sideline erupted in, ummm, angst. "Somebody told me coach Rumrey was in typical form," says Curtis. "I think that�s a sign that he�s not really getting soft." Perhaps contented is a better description. These are, after all, very good times. His undefeated Black Tornado � which gave him his 200th career win in the next-to-last regular-season game � will play for the state championship Saturday, the third time he�s taken a team to that level. In addition to 1993, he won in 1987 at Sweet Home. "This has been a great year," nods the man who has crafted a career record of 205-95, including 98-60 since taking over the North job at age 40. It comes not long after a period in which Rumrey�s drive to continue coaching sputtered. What recharged it, what "extended my coaching career," he says, was the assemblage of his current staff of assistants and the character and dedication of his players. "I really think a few years ago, I was close to burnout," he admits. Then he built what he considers perhaps the hardest working staff he�s ever had. "These young guys," he says, "one thing they never do is cheat the kids. They�re there for them all the time. I�ll tell you, that�s made my job a lot easier, a lot more enjoyable." For instance, it was well past time to clear out after practice Tuesday, but offensive coordinator Brent Barry and line coach Mike Schaan insisted on staying late to make sure the blocking schemes were exact. Along those lines, Rumrey says, he�s been blessed with good kids. Discipline and eligibility problems have been rare the past three years. "Those things wear on coaches," he says. "They make you question whether you want to keep doing it." With talented aides, Rumrey has been able to turn over responsibilities that he once felt he had to keep in his charge. Most notable is the role of offensive coordinator, in which Barry, his son-in-law, has proven more than capable. Barry plans the offensive practice schedule � that alone frees up two hours a day for Rumrey, he says � breaks down film, directs that portion of practice and calls plays during games. Similarly, defensive coordinator John Beck is thorough and tireless. One who relishes having a certain amount of control, Rumrey no more wanted to hand over the reins than John Wayne would atop a runaway stagecoach. "I really thought it would be hard," he says. "I did not know how to handle it. But it hasn�t been a problem at all. It�s been almost a relief in some ways. "Obviously, Brent is doing a great job. I�m still a part of it. I have the final say in pretty much everything we do. But those guys are doing such a great job, and we�re getting things done. It�s a great situation right now." Less stress has allowed him to more fully appreciate this magical season and some of the happenings unique to it. Like the links to the past. "It makes you feel good when you know the program was meaningful enough that kids want to stay in touch and continue to follow it," he says. After the win over Churchill, Rumrey was amazed at the number of players from the past five years or so who celebrated with the team on the field. Upon returning home, a half-dozen former players called to wish him well. One from New York. A couple from Portland. One of those at the game was Seth McEwen, a starting linebacker for the University of Oregon, who remains close to the program largely because of the head coach. "I�m a living testament to the fact that what he teaches carries over," says McEwen. "He teaches about goals and learning to overcome adversity. If your back is to the wall, he teaches you to fight back and beat those adversities." When the team bus returned to North High, there was Curtis, now a city police officer, waiting. He decided against turning on the lights and siren of his squad car. "I wanted to get over and just see these guys," says Curtis, who doesn�t know the players but understood what they were experiencing. He also waited for Rumrey to come out of the locker room. "I knew the look I�d see on his face," says Curtis, "and he came out with that exact same look. He was tired, but gosh, he was so happy and so excited for his team." Curtis, like McEwen and others, feels a special bond to the coach. "I remember when my parents got divorced," he recalls. "The next day, he found out or heard and walked up to me and put his arm around me. He told me a story about when he was a kid and that these things make you stronger. This was like my sophomore year when we were doing terrible, but I remember that comment and the interest he took." Now, Rumrey is working on another story, maybe one he�ll be able to tell his grandkids. Reach sports editor Tim Trower at 776-4479, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2000 Mail Tribune, Inc.