[CBFF] Catching up with Buddy Ryan

[Steve Behrens]

((Deep down, you know we all love this guy))

You want a blast from the football past? Try catching up with controversial
icon Buddy Ryan

By Trent Modglin
Nov. 2, 2006

While working on a feature story on twin brothers Rex and Rob Ryan, the
defensive coordinators of the Ravens and Raiders, respectively, I put in a
call yesterday to the man himself. Rex and Rob's old man, Buddy Ryan.

Buddy, the legendary defensive mind who has been retired since being fired
by the Cardinals in 1995, is back at the family farm in Kentucky, where he's
spent the last 11-plus years, breeding and raising race horses.

He's 72 and a bit more at ease these days, though hardly void of the
opinions that made him such a controversial figure in the 1980s and early
'90s.

It's no surprise to him how his boys ended up as coaches, given how much
they soaked up from coaches like Weeb Eubank, Bud Grant and Neil Armstrong,
for all of whom Buddy worked.

"When they were ball boys, and the rest of the ball boys were playing
grab-ass, these guys were watching everything that was going on with the
game and the preparation," Ryan says of his sons. "They were really into
it."

Buddy sees a little bit of himself in each of his sons. Hard not to, really.
And he knows that they, like a lot of other coaches in the league, still
employ variations of the schemes he made popular several decades ago, like
the famed "46" defense he won a championship with in Chicago after the 1985
season. And, like their father, Buddy believes Rex and Rob get the most out
of their players.

The Ravens are currently third in the league in total defense. The Raiders,
surprisingly in the face of all their offensive woes and general discontent,
rank ninth overall defensively.

Ryan was a man who, despite all his innovations and the intense loyalty that
many of his players had for him, may unfortunately be remembered as much for
his rivalry with Mike Ditka, his occasional outlandish statements, being
accused of placing bounties on the heads of opposing players and throwing a
punch at then-Oilers offensive coordinator Kevin Gilbride during a sideline
altercation on national TV.

I had those surly images floating around in my head while speaking with him.
But I also couldn't shake from my head the visions of those attacking
defenses of the Bears and Eagles. The way Hall of Famer Dan Hampton's face
lit up when telling me about playing for his former coach. And his sons'
descriptions of him always being there when they were young, sitting in the
stands at their games despite his hectic schedule.

I ask Buddy what kind of legacy he believes he left behind.

"Oh, probably the '46' defense, the eight-man fronts," he says. "… You can
talk to Bill Parcells. We had some great battles. He'd probably have
something for you."

I mention that his sons are admittedly a bit discouraged by the fact their
father was always known for having that stern demeanor, the gruff
personality that seemed to irritate as many people as his coaching skills
embraced. They never saw that side of him.

"I was a tough guy, wasn't I?" he says, laughing. "Oh yeah, I played the
part, I would say. It was good. Even people now, down here, I'll go to
charity affairs and different things, and people will come up and talk to
me, and then I hear them walking away saying, 'Boy, he's a nice guy. I had
no idea.' "

Buddy laughs again, that elderly, grandfather laugh that comes from way down
in the chest.

Rex suggested to me that, despite all their issues with each other, all the
stubbornness prevalent on both sides, deep down, Ditka and Buddy probably
respected the hell out of each other. I decide to take a deep breath and
tell Buddy this.

This time, Buddy doesn't laugh.

"No, I didn't have any respect for him," he quickly answers. "Mr. Halas
hired me, and I hired my coaches to coach the defense. He had the other
side. That was the way it worked out."

Fair enough.

On Sundays, the 72-year-old settles into a comfy chair in front of the TV to
enjoy the plethora of games. As it works out, Rex's Ravens are usually first
at 1 p.m., and Rob's Raiders come on later, at 4:15. During timeouts and
commercials for each, he flips channels to check in on his former pupils.
He's got a few who've moved into the coaching ranks, like Ron Rivera in
Chicago, Steve Fisher in Tennessee and Mike Singletary in San Francisco.

"I try to keep up with all of it, you know?" he says.

Plenty of football and thoroughbreds. Not a bad retirement.

I ask Buddy how many horses he has on his farm.

"About 17," he tells me. "Too many."

Turns out, a few years back, he and Rex actually invested in one promising
horse and entered it in several races. Evidently, they didn't pose for many
pictures in the winner's circle.

"She had all the ability, but she just couldn't handle it mentally."

Sounds like some of your players, I tell him.

"Yeah," he laughs. "You got that right."