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Bates' defensive engines running
Published August 10, 2007 at midnight
The future was nearly preordained in rural Thomas, Mich., and the adjoining town of Oxford, known as the Gravel Capital of the World.
This was the Elvis '50s, just up the road from the center of the automobile universe. Young men from the area often attended the General Motors Institute, supported by the giant automaker to locate quality future employees for the company's plants. Or youths in the area chose the more direct pipeline to the assembly lines in nearby Pontiac or Detroit.
For $3 an hour in the mid-1960s, Jim Bates worked a few summers in the factory to raise money for college. It was enjoyable, even with the grief he would take from the plant's old-timers and the fact he'd be given the hardest jobs.
The nuts and bolts of football were more compelling.
Bates was hooked from the time he strapped on his 25-cent Sears and Roebuck helmet and played sandlot games south siders vs. his north at about age 10.
The physical nature of the sport was the initial draw. The kids from the local neighborhoods would paint their helmets in tribute to their favorite players. It was the only equipment they would wear.
Even when Bates' cheap headgear didn't protect him and he was knocked unconscious by striking the knee of another child who had at least 50 pounds on him in one of his earliest playing experiences at the local high school field, it didn't dampen his enthusiasm.
"Man, it was coldblooded," recalled Bates, hired in January to oversee the Broncos defense. "There were some tough kids. But it was fun."
And, according to childhood friend Dan Van Vleet, none came tougher than Bates.
"Jim is probably the overachiever of all time," he said.
Bates was country through and through.
He wore goggle glasses. He hunted at his father's side, shooting rabbits and pheasants in the fields from the time he was 5. He lived in the sticks, with a single light bulb illuminating the upper floor, until moving to his grandfather's house in town some years later.
The school Bates attended through sixth grade had two rooms. He participated in spelling bees, usually losing to Catherine Strong in the finals.
"It was a simple time," Van Vleet recalled.
Outdoor activities were a constant. Ice fishing. Pond hockey.
On rainy days, the two friends invented games to play, including basketball using a tennis ball and a shoe box for the hoop. They even chest bumped one another hard to test each other's resolve. And, yes, Bates had a stubborn streak.
As a 130-pound sophomore, in only his second year of organized ball, he marched into his coach's office and implored him to make him a starter at linebacker.
Walt Braun, one of Michigan's all-time winningest coaches by the time he retired from Marysville High School in 2000, was a young man at the time who just had started his career. He kicked several of the upperclassmen off the team for disciplinary reasons and needed players anyway.
Bates got his wish, making 14 tackles in his first game. He also played tight end.
And at the time, it was every bit a game of survival.
Braun believed in three-a-day practices to have the best-conditioned athletes. Van Vleet recalled he and Bates getting water from mud puddles simply to avoid the long walk to the drinking fountain. There were plenty of salt pills, too.
"It was pretty brutal, but we didn't know it at the time," Van Vleet remembered. "We thought everybody did it. Looking back on it, you saw the movie The Junction Boys about Bear Bryant? It was essentially that."
And to Bates, Braun might as well have been the Bear himself. He didn't shy away but became drawn to football even more.
It wasn't just the physical part of the job that excited him anymore, but the strategic side, too.
Bates walked on at the University of Tennessee at the behest of a prep algebra teacher who had done some graduate work there.
And, despite playing behind a couple of All-Americans, the determined collegian grew to about 200 pounds in his first year and eventually managed to earn a scholarship.
But Bates' real future was on the sidelines, playing the thinking man's game.
Close to home
Bates' first coaching job outside of graduate assistant's work didn't stray far from his humble roots.
He rented a log cabin for $25 a month in Sevier County in Tennessee, where he served as a prep coach. The place resided right on the Little Pigeon River, coming out of the Smoky Mountains.
"Beautiful, beautiful country," Bates reminisced.
He'd see a lot of the U.S., too, as he pursued his passion on the college level during the next 22 years. He spent time at Southern Mississippi, Villanova, Kansas State, West Virginia and Texas Tech, where, as defensive coordinator, two of his players, defensive tackle Gabriel Rivera and defensive back Ted Watts, became first- round NFL draft picks.
But all the while, Bates had few pro aspirations of his own.
"I was set just being a college coach," he said.
Yet he hardly was set financially.
So with the U.S. Football League offering about a $25,000 bump from his Texas Tech salary, he ultimately jumped at the money.
He ran the San Antonio Gunslingers defense for a year before becoming head coach. That promotion only lasted a half-season, though, after the organization ran into financial difficulty, promised to pay the players during those hard times but reneged.
Bates resigned.
"It was one of the best jobs I've ever had," Bates said. "They were all blue-collar players."
He interviewed with Lindy Infante of the Green Bay Packers after that initial pro experience but spent one more year in the USFL, with the Arizona Outlaws , and another season coaching the Arena Football League's Detroit Drive before returning to the college ranks.
He went back to Tennessee to coach linebackers, then hooked on with Steve Spurrier at the University of Florida.
The Gators' success prompted then-Cleveland Browns coach Bill Belichick, whom Bates never had met, to take notice. He offered Bates his first NFL job. At 46 years old, with a wife and two boys to consider and an even bigger salary jump available, the time was right.
Life that first year under Belichick in 1991 was all about getting used to 5:30 a.m. arrivals and 1 a.m. departures.
A harsh Ohio winter added to the dreary, sleepless routine.
"It was probably the toughest year I've ever had in football," Bates said.
But once he became accustomed to the NFL routine and how to organize his responsibilities, "I knew I'd stay."
He lasted four years in two stints with Cleveland and also held NFL jobs with Atlanta, Dallas, Miami and Green Bay over the course of 15 seasons. During that time, he did more than pad his résumé.
His coaching style, marked by passion, touched his players, some of whom still remain in contact.
"He's a great teacher," said Trace Armstrong, who led the AFC in sacks in his only season with Bates as his coordinator, with the Dolphins in 2000. "He's unique, too, in that he coached all three position groups at the NFL level linebackers, defensive line and secondary. And that's really rare for a coordinator. So when he talks to a corner or a safety, he's got instant credibility. And he's got the same credibility if he talks to a defensive lineman. ... Guys really respond to that."
One cool dude
It helps that Bates' personality isn't humdrum. He gets the finer points across. But his passion, borne as a youth, still seeps through.
He'll deliver high-fives and even occasionally revisit the old chest bump.
"He's just a cool dude, man," said Packers middle linebacker Nick Barnett, who played for Bates in 2005. "He can relate to the players but he still holds his authority. And he gets jokes from I don't know where. He'll just say something crazy in a meeting to loosen everybody up. But he motivates you."
That doesn't mean Bates is afraid to deliver a well-timed zinger directly at a player who's underperforming.
Bates, while he cares about his players' well-being, also expects the best.
"He's the kind of guy who gets really worked up when you do well," said Chicago Bears defensive end Adewale Ogunleye, who credits Bates for getting him to the Pro Bowl with Miami in 2003. "But if you mess up, he's going to tell you, too. He can really get ticked off if things don't go the right way. He's not afraid to get in your face and tell you you're doing something wrong and if you do it again, you won't be in there."
At Broncos training camp this summer, Bates has been heard usually before he's seen. Most often, he has delivered words of encouragement.
"Great hustle on the backside, 91!"
"Eliminate that big play and we're going to win a lot of games!"
"You're having your best day, Jimmy! Go get a drink."
But if Mike Shanahan wanted only a motivational speaker, he would have hired Anthony Robbins or Wayne Dyer for his staff. It was Bates' system that stresses solid fundamentals and basic fronts and coverages, deftly masked, that made him so desirable a hire after Denver's second-half slide defensively last season.
Bates' defenses in Miami from 2000-04 ranked no lower than 10th in total yards and only once rated outside the top 10 in points allowed. His stay with the Dolphins ended when he wasn't offered the full-time head coaching job that went to Nick Saban after Bates served as interim boss for the final seven games in '04.
In Green Bay in 2005, Bates inherited a unit that had allowed the fifth-most points in franchise history, ranked 25th in total defense and had managed only 15 takeaways. The Packers improved to seventh in total defense and ranked No. 1 vs. the pass with nearly the same personnel.
"His scheme is really player friendly," said Mike Sherman, who, as Packers head coach, hired Bates in '05 after two straight days of the two talking football philosophy. "Similar to the West Coast offense being friendly to quarterbacks, that defense is friendly to defensive players. They seem to understand it and there are very few mental mistakes. And there are answers for all the questions that come up."
Long list of Pro Bowlers
Bates' philosophy stems from his time at the University of Tennessee: Few gimmicks, accountability and a big-picture view from the players about how everyone fits.
That scheme has worked to the extent that 10 players have earned 21 Pro Bowl bids in his 15 seasons in the NFL.
"If you watch it from an offensive standpoint, you think it's pretty simple," said Jeremy Bates, Jim's son and the Broncos' wide receivers/quarterbacks coach. "They come out and play a lot of the same coverages down after down. But when you get to the grind of things, it's hard to find an open receiver. They know exactly what to do and they're not going to give you any free plays."
It's a far cry from Bates' sandlot days, where anything went.
But it's a style that's evolved after 40 years in the coaching business under the likes of Johnny Majors, Barry Switzer, Chan Gailey, Spurrier and others.
"He sold us a dream and sold us a scheme and we ran with it," Barnett said. "And that's what you have to do. He got everybody to buy in. And if you get the whole defense to buy into any scheme, they're going to play well."
rasizerl@RockyMountainNews.com
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