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.

Bill Parcells will always be remembered as a great coach. But in recent years, it appears that the man with the domineering personality, piercing glare and gruff voice has become more stubborn as he has gotten older. And in a league that is constantly evolving, a set-in-your-ways attitude does not usually engender success on the football field, no matter how much experience you have. 

Moments after the Dallas Cowboys' playoff hopes took a big hit with a crushing 35-7 loss to Washington, Parcells charged into the locker room and declined to shake the hand of Redskins coach Joe Gibbs. He was obviously disgusted with the performance of his team -- a team he assembled.

 Past his prime?

In the last few years, Parcells has surrounded himself with a core of players who have been coached by him in the past. Drew Bledsoe, Terry Glenn, Keyshawn Johnson and Aaron Glenn play key roles on the Cowboys. Vinny Testaverde did last year. They are all known as Parcells' guys. They are very good at what they do. But they are not great. And they are getting old. Parcells has always subscribed to the idea that he can get the most out of guys who buy into his philosophy. However, he seems to have become too enamored with his hard-core image and is somewhat delusional about his chances to recapture the magic from long ago when he brought the Bledsoes and the Glenns to the brink of a Super Bowl championship. It's not going to happen again with those guys.

But everywhere Parcells has gone, he has tried to hold on to something tangible from his previous stop. He brought Giants tailback Dave Meggett with him to New England. Keith Byars and Ray Lucas were among the players Parcells lured away from New England.  But with each passing year, Parcells' last championship with the 1990 New York Giants becomes more distant, more remote. The victory over the Bills is a memory from another time. In the 14 years since that night in Tampa Bay, his understudy, Bill Belichick, has won more Super Bowls than Parcells has. And Belichick with done it with his own group of players. Parcells, on the other hand, has seen the results of his labors become less satisfactory. He reached the Super Bowl with New England, advanced to the conference title game with the Jets and is now having difficult time getting to the playoffs with the Cowboys.  

Parcells must be frustrated to see this. This wasn't the way he was supposed to go out -- struggling to a lead a proud franchise back to respectability. But if Parcells is ever to steer his team to a Super Bowl, he might just have to learn to adapt, be more flexible and not be so beholden to his guys. The coach across the field Sunday has been able to do that and now is in the driver's seat to make the playoffs -- something the Great Parcells cannot say.