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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

You Won’t Find Any Hard Knox From Chuck

Bill Plaschke Los Angeles Times

Chuck Knox watches football games in a living room now, with a remote control at his feet and grandchildren in his lap.

He knows how to work the kids, to use those giant hands to gently hug and tickle.

But for an old coach removed from the game for the first time in 50 years, the remote control is not so easy.

“I had to leave early for work, so my wife sat in there with him and showed him how to use it,” said Dr. Mike Norman, his son-in-law who had Knox at his Redlands, Calif., home on the first long Sunday of the season.

“I think he finally figured it out,” Norman said. “I know he watched games all night.”

One of the early games involved the St. Louis Rams, and Chuck Knox cheered.

Last winter the Rams had escorted him from the premises as if he were an intruder, as if he had wandered into an era where he no longer belonged. Still, he cheered.

You knew he would.

Another game involved the Seattle Seahawks, another former employer that should cause Knox’s stomach to churn. Again, he cheered.

“I never had trouble with anybody, I don’t wish bad things on anybody,” Knox said. “Everywhere I left, it was on good terms. No hard feelings for anybody. Why be like that?”

Maybe because everybody else is like that?

Sam Wyche of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers rips opposing coaches. Tom Coughlin of the Jacksonville Jaguars is continually in open conflict with his players.

Mike White of the Raiders breaks league rules by refusing to talk to the media. Buddy Ryan of the Cardinals recently referred to his players as “a bunch of dead guys.”

The coach in Minnesota is battling sexual harassment allegations. The coach of the New England Patriots publicly taunts star rookies after games.

Knox was never like that, like any of them. He never publicly criticized a player or a colleague. He never caused a sideline scene.

He was terrible copy. He was as much of a sound bite as a chair. He was never the morning news. He was the football coach.

For 22 years, his style was ridiculed.

But now that he is gone - now that nearly everyone like him is gone - the NFL sidelines are increasingly lacking in decorum and integrity.

Knox is missed.

He might not have always called plays or handled players like an ideal coach. But he always behaved like one.

He still behaves like one.

“He’s not bitter toward anyone… . It’s amazing,” Norman said.

Knox is spending his first year out of football in half a century as if he won’t be gone for long.

In the mornings, he takes long walks near his Orange County home to stay in shape.

“No, I don’t wear headphones,” he said. “How can you do that and think?” He watches football tapes in the afternoon. He talks on the phone with former coaches throughout the day and night.

The only time he is agitated is when he listens to NFL announcers live for the first time in his adult life - and picks up obvious mistakes.

“The other day I listened to somebody say that a defense just dogged, sent the linebackers after the quarterback, but then they said that same defense was playing a zone,” Knox said. “Blitzing with a zone?”

He paused. “But hey, it’s show business.”

And he is not.

He can be difficult to reach these days because his Palm Springs home, where he spends much of the winter, does not have an answering machine.

He is also thrilled that people still recognize him throughout Southern California. Many still tentatively approach him for his autograph.

He wants them to know it’s OK.

“I sign, and I don’t even charge,” he said.

The word around the league is that Knox and a group of investors could one day be prepared to buy the Seahawks. Once there, Knox, 63, would be a nice fit as a general manager.

The writers would hate him. The players wouldn’t always understand him.

But the game could use him.