Chapter 30

By the last preseason game a couple things were obvious: I was going to be holding a clipboard a lot of this season and the Cardinals were going to be losing a lot of games this season.

For once the two weren't mutually exclusive. The Cardinals could have had Johnny Unitas in his prime and still lost a lot of games. And the sideline with a clipboard was just about the safest place for me.

I didn't doubt I'd see action in a lot games this year. Our offensive line was so porous I figured we'd go through six or seven quarterbacks and probably more trainers. I had a decent preseason showing when I wasn't on my back looking up at the sky. Sean Lombard was a talent but he was also a rookie and he couldn't block more than one guy.

I didn't feel bad — all the quarterbacks on the team spent more time on their backs than a Reno hooker. The best thing about our offensive line is they were just as bad run blocking as they were pass blocking. That meant the running backs spent a lot of time on their backs, too.

Our defense was very good. I figured if we could find a way to score two or three times a game, we'd be able to win a few.

We lost three of our first four games — only a defensive touchdown against lowly Tampa Bay saved us from the 0-fer. When everyone figured out we weren't going to be very good, the front office started to take a ton of crap for spending what could be the No. 1 overall pick next season on me — a guy whose only evident skill was good penmanship.

Our starter managed to make it midway through the fifth game before a blindside sack broke his collarbone. Our journeyman backup made it only half as long before being lost for the season with a torn knee ligament.

I made my professional debut in the fourth quarter of the seventh game of the season. We were playing the St. Louis Rams in the Edward Jones Dome in St. Louis and they were ahead by 10 points.

The Rams were predicated on thrill-a-minute offense and our defense was shutting them down pretty good. Their defense was only marginally better than our offense but we still couldn't move the ball against them. We used a modified version of the West Coast offense — modified because our pass blocking was horrid. It involved a lot of quick releases but also a lot of pocket movement.

I am not the most fleet footed of runners but I have fairly quick feet. My NFL debut was a lost fumble on the first snap. I would be willing to bet it had been three years since the last time I'd fumbled a snap.

Coach Blades just shook his head as I jogged off the field. By the time I got back on the field, we were down by 13 points and the clock was down to less than two minutes. We went no-huddle and surprisingly it worked pretty well. I didn't have time to think much so I just reacted. We went down the field quickly and scored our first offensive touchdown in six quarters.

We didn't see the ball again and our record stood at 2-5 when the horn sounded. I was a rookie so I just kept my mouth shut, but I wondered if maybe we should consider a no-huddle approach earlier in the game. Sure the Rams were in a prevent defense, but even against the nickel package (five defensive backs) it should work.

The Cardinals had signed a couple of free-agent quarterbacks off the scrap heap to replace the two we'd lost already but neither one was in shape to play by Week 8. So my first start was at home against the Redskins.

I didn't exactly set the world on fire but I managed to direct the offense and keep the game close enough that only a missed field goal at the end sealed another loss. Players were laughing and joking in the locker room after the loss. It had been a long time since I lost a football game I'd started. I wasn't sure if I ever had. It also wasn't something I wanted to get used to.

The main difference between college and pro — outside of the talent level — was the lack of camaraderie in the NFL. We had 52 players on our active roster and 52 guys took 52 cars home after games. I'm sure there were guys who spent afternoons with other players, but I couldn't see any real friendships. The cutthroat world of the NFL prevented that, I think.

None of the veteran quarterbacks offered to take me under his wing and help me learn. The starter was nice and helpful if I asked a question, but he also was 12 years older than I was. I probably had more in common with his kids than I did with him. Even Sean Lombard and I didn't socialize much. He was married to a nice woman and, for some reason, would rather spend his leisure time with her than me. The other draft picks came from vastly different social and economic backgrounds and they seemed to be surrounded by their old friends. Most of their old friends I didn't want to be associated with, so I didn't make friends with the rookies either.

I'm not a hugely social person, but I got tired of going home to my apartment alone every evening. When all these guys who didn't socialize any other time started drinking beer and telling jokes in the locker room after we lost a game we should have won, I stepped in it again.

At least it was Lisa Neil who asked the question, so I was sure at least one person quoted me correctly. I was mad and I couldn't tell you exactly what came out of my mouth that day.

"I'll be the first to tell you that football isn't a life and death proposition," I said. "Anyone who knows me will tell you that. But I'm not used to losing football games. I'm used to winning them because I always have. If I ever get to the point where I want to have a celebration like these guys are after we lose, I'll hang up my spikes forever. I won't play for long for an organization that condones and practically celebrates losing. I get paid a hell of a lot of money to play a kid's game. The least we can do is to take it seriously.

"It's bad enough to play well and lose. I don't find anything wrong with being beaten by a superior team. That's not what happened today. We played lousy football, against a lousier football team, and lost. We flat-out lost this game. If I were a fan of the Arizona Cardinals and I came into this locker room right now and saw this crap, I'd be a fool to spend another dollar on this franchise."

In just a few seconds I had managed to accuse my employers of condoning a sub-standard effort, accuse my teammates of being perennial losers, give the Redskins fodder for our next game and accuse the fans of being idiots for providing money to pay my exorbitant salary. I had shot from the hip and hit everything in sight. I knew before I got out of the shower I had done something really stupid, but there wasn't a writer around to allow me to clarify my remarks.

What I said was the truth, though. But I was a rookie and rookies didn't say that sort of thing.

I went to Coach Blade's office and gave him a brief synopsis of what I'd said. He called a couple of the veterans into the office while I called Lisa Neil to see if she could give me a rundown of exactly what I'd said during my rant.

To her credit, she asked me if I wanted to clarify any of my remarks.

"It's exactly what I said, I'm sure," I said. "The reason I called you is because I knew you'd have it accurately. I don't want to clarify anything I said and I don't want to backtrack from anything I said. It's what I think and what I believe. It just wasn't my place to say it."

We thanked each other and hung up. The veterans and Coach Blades were chuckling.

"I won't lie, rook," a huge offensive lineman said. "You're in for some shit, come Tuesday. But I got your back because I feel the same way. Nobody came here to lose football games, but if we were pissed for a week every time we lost, we'd be mad all the time.

"Sorry, Coach. That's just the way it is here. We lose. We get better players and we still lose. You're right that this is just a job for some of these guys. But you'll find the same thing wherever you go, and whatever you do — unless you work for yourself by yourself."

Turning back to me, he continued, "You hang in there and let your play do the talking. We should have won today. If you keep playing like you did today, we will start to win.

"Maybe these guys will remember that it's more fun to win than to lose."

I was surprised when Tuesday came and went without a word to me about what I'd said. It wasn't a surprise that no one spoke to me at all, except the captains and one of the other quarterbacks.

One of the veteran QBs we'd just acquired started spending more time with me. He helped the quarterbacks coach work on me getting a quicker release and helped with my footwork. I started to work harder in practices and I realized that, so long as I didn't make many mistakes to cost us games, our defense would be able to win us some.