Tomorrow, when the AFC and NFC championship games are played, four men will be coaching in one of the biggest games of their lives. But they certainly won't be dressed for the occasion. Rather, they will be wearing sweatshirts, parkas, turtlenecks, polos and any other casual apparel that has his team's logo on it. They will look more like the fans in the stands than authoritative figures. That's too bad, because it wasn't always this way. 

 Then and now.

Grainy films reveal that Dallas coach Tom Landry and Kansas City Chiefs coach Hank Stram used to lead their teams into playoff games donning three-piece suits or a blazer and slacks. They looked serious, like they were dressed to take care of business.

Even though a spot has been reserved for him in Canton Ohio, Bill Belichick does not quite give off the same image. Each week, he looks like a vagabond in his hooded sweatshirt with a large New England Patriots logo emblazoned on the front. In fact, you start to feel sorry for him until you remind yourself that it is Bill Belichick, winner of three Super Bowls.

In the same year the NBA told its players to dress up or be fined, the NFL ordered its coaches to do the opposite. Mike Nolan, the San Francisco 49ers coach, publicly said he was planning to wear a suit and tie on the sidelines this season. It seemed like a great idea to bust out some "old-school" threads. But the NFL wasn't too keen on Nolan's idea, because Reebok, which supplies all of the clothing for the league, wasn't happy with it. Reebok doesn't make suits, dress shirts or ties, after all. They do manufacture jumpsuits, t-shirts and polos with team logos that apparently sell like hotcakes. And it's a money-making business when it comes down to it. 

But the NBA seems to get along fine without having their coaches dress like slobs. Since 1981, the Association has made them wear suits or sport jackets. They look sharp, and Miami Heat coach Pat Riley seems proud of the fact he gets to wear Armani duds on the bench. The NBA, which is ultra-conscious of how it markets its product, apparently doesn't need the coaches hawking the apparel it sells in stores. Neither does Reebok, which is the exclusive supplier of team uniforms and warm-ups. Not many fans are going out of their way to copy the look of Larry Brown and Scott Skiles, after all.

So, when it comes down to it, it's obvious that the NFL is really calling the shots here. They don't want their coaches looking presentable on the sidelines. They'd rather have them act as models for the apparel the league and its clothing supplier are selling. Dan Reeves wore a suit for a number of years before switching to a polo when he was with the Falcons. Former Minnesota Vikings coach Mike Tice sported a tie and sweater until he began wearing a turtleneck. They were both encouraged by the NFL to make the switch as team apparel became more marketable. But by forcing the coaches to comply with a casual dress code, the NFL looks silly. And on Sunday, just like every other week, so will the coaches.

When Norv Turner was fired by the Oakland Raiders on Tuesday, the number of NFL coaches who have received pink slips this season climbed to seven. Add #### Vermeil's resignation from Kansas City into the group that got canned and a quarter of the league's teams now have head coaching vacancies. That's a lot of openings.

In a world where instant gratification is the norm, what has taken place in the last few days is not very surprising. Coaches have short lifespans and they know they are on a tight leash unless their names are Bill Parcells or Bill Belichick. And while there should be some sympathy extended toward the magnificent seven that got axed, don't feel completely sorry for them. They will likely coach another NFL team and stink it up there as well.

  Nine Lives

There is not a league more paradoxical when it comes to the hiring and firing of coaches than the NFL. The same organizations that are quick to get rid of one coach go out and rescue another from past failures. Look at Turner. In seven seasons with the Washington Redskins, he won one playoff game and never led the Capital Gang to a record that was better than 10-6. Yet, four years after Turner finished out his last days in Washington, Oakland owner Al Davis hired him to turn around the Raiders. In his haste to get rid of Bill Callahan, who led the franchise back to the Super Bowl in the first of his two seasons at the helm, Davis seemed to forget the fact that Turner had a losing record under an equally meddlesome owner, Daniel Snyder. In fact, Turner had won less playoff games in his seven years in Washington than Callahan had in his two seasons in Oakland.

Four years earlier, a similarly perplexing move was made by the Miami Dolphins when they hired Dave Wannstedt, a coach that had worn out his welcome in Chicago by 1998.  In his six seasons in the Windy City, the best record the Bears could post was 9-7. Rich Kotite might have done better. But Wannstedt's past failures didn't dissuade the Dolphins.  They put the franchise in the his hands, hoping that he could rekindle the winning ways of the Don Shula era. The result: one playoff win, one AWOL running back and lots of controversy in five seasons.

It wouldn't be the least bit surprising, however, if Wannstedt was mentioned as a possible replacement for one of the seven coaches that were fired. At least he won a postseason game. Butch Davis' name is floating around and he hasn't even done that. Neither has Wade Phillips, who is a possible candidate for the Green Bay job. Surely, the rolodexes for NFL general managers extend beyond ten names. Then again, maybe Ray Handley is primed for a comeback.

Usually when Maurice Clarett makes the news now, it is not because of something wonderful he did on a football field. He hasn't played on one in months. Instead, on Sunday, fans were once again reminded of Clarett because of the poor decisions he makes off the gridiron. Clarett, who reprised his role as the wayward running back with a once promising future, was accused of two counts of aggravated robbery after allegedly holding two people up at the bar. It was hard to not to find the irony that the incident occurred on the same day that most pro football games are played.

  Too much, too soon.

Of course, at one point it was believed that Clarett was a lock to be a star on Sundays in the NFL after he put together a scintillating freshman campaign at Ohio State during which he led the Buckeyes to a national championship in 2002. But almost as quickly as he became the toast of college football, his world came crashing down. He filed a false police report and was suspended from the school when he lied to an NCAA investigators about receiving improper benefits from a friend. Clarett then tried to drag the university down with him when he made allegations that he took cash from boosters and worked a bogus summer job.

As his college career was quickly coming to a close after one season, he tried desperately to gain eligibility for the NFL Draft before he was allowed to enter it. An appellate court denied his request. When he finally did qualify, Clarett turned in a horrible performance at the NFL Scouting Combine in Indianapolis this year, running a sluggish 4.67-second 40-yard dash. Many thought he wouldn't be picked after such a terrible workout, but Denver took a gamble on him and selected the embattled running back. Not long after going to training camp, he hurt his groin and was cut in August. Teammates questioned his commitment in rehabilitating the injury, and even Broncos coach Mike Shanahan, who has turned average running backs into great rushers, gave up on him. It appeared to be the last chapter that would be written in a story that would have no happy ending.

But then Sunday came along, and the tale of Clarett's fall from grace became darker. For an athlete who once seemed to have such a promising career aheads of him, it is sad to see it come to this. But like Roy Tarpley and Len Bias, who threw their futures away in another sport, Clarett couldn't handle so much success so soon. And that is why when Clarett makes headlines these days we are no longer surprised that he is in an alley instead of on a football field.