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.

On the same day that Bill Belichick and the New England Patriots saw their 10-game playoff winning streak disappear in Denver's thin air, another man who once coached a team that dominated the AFC denied rumors that he would be returning to the sidelines. Marv Levy, the 80-year-old general manager of the Buffalo Bills, said he would not replace Mike Mularkey, the 44-year-old who unexpectedly resigned last week after calling the shots for two years in Orchard Park. And that's too bad. Levy has a more impressive resume than all of the former NFL coaches looking for a job. After all, not many of them have taken their teams to four consecutive Super Bowls.

 He has skills.

But, then again, Levy is old. He qualifies for Social Security and was born before the Great Depression. Many people wouldn't think he could succeed in the pressure-packed NFL, despite the fact that he was coaching the Bills only nine years ago. How can a man his age be expected to make a reasonable decision and choose whether to punt or go for it on fourth-and one?

Unfortunately, Levy probably sensed that would be the reaction, so he clearly stated he would not pull a Joe Gibbs and return to the team he once coached. The same people who vociferously blamed Joe Paterno's age for Penn State's woes in recent years would inevitably criticize Levy if he decided he was the best man to lead the Bills on the field. Age discrimination, unfortunately, is alive and well in the United States.

But it is hard to understand why the younger generation doubts the abilities of its elders. Paterno, who is 79, was one play away from possibly leading the Nittany Lions to the national championship game this season. His team went 11-1 and won the Orange Bowl in triple-overtime by overcoming Florida State, a team that is coached by another septuagenarian, Bobby Bowden. Bowden, of course, has also been ripped by fans and media in recent years because the Seminoles have not won a national championship in six seasons. Man, things must be bad when your team only makes the Orange Bowl. Of course, the same group grousing seems to forget that before Bowden arrived Florida State won just four games in the three previous years and considered junking its football program after years of futility. 

None of that apparently matters because Bowden is old. In some people's eyes, all of the losses the Seminoles have incurred recently are the direct result of Bowden's age. He has wrinkles, gray hair and was alive when football was played with leather helmets, so they think he is over the hill.

In the coaching profession, they say, longevity is dependent on the number of wins and losses you accumulate. But, in the public's eyes, it also appears that the number of years you live on this planet should be just as important a factor in both your survival and ability to get a job. And that is ridiculous. Paterno and Bowden's resumes continue to get more impressive with each passing year, while Levy should not feel afraid to add a few lines to his. 

Joey Porter doesn't like audibles. He is bothered by Peyton Manning's gesticulations at the line of scrimmage. He is peeved when the Indianapolis Colts adjust their formations without having to huddle and discuss the situation. Well, too bad Mr. Porter. That is what makes the AFC South Division champs so entertaining to watch. The Steelers linebacker appears to dislike the intellectualization of football or the concept of offensive ingenuity. He wants the Colts to play a smash-mouth style and show their hand by running straight at Pittsburgh's defense. He is daring them to be conventional Sunday when the two teams meet Sunday at the RCA Dome. But the Colts are new wave.

  The Field General

They have established a unique identity as coach Tony Dungy and offensive coordinator Tom Moore have channeled the offense through Peyton Manning. And as a result there is arguably not a more valuable player to his team in the league than Manning. The eight-year veteran quarterback is responsible for reading the defense, calling the plays and then executing them.

The process is mesmerizing to watch, and it must be intimidating for a defense, which not only has to find a way to match up with the Colts' various weapons but also must attempt to understand all of Manning's utterances and movements he uses to communicate with his teammates. Apparently, Porter is not a fan.  

"They don't want to just sit there, line up and play football," Porter explained to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. "They want to try to catch you off guard. They don't want to play smash-mouth football, they want to trick you. ... They want to catch you substituting. Know what I mean? They don't want to just call a play, get up there and run a play."

But Porter doesn't get it. What the Colts have done is take the playcalling out of the booth and put it on the field. Manning, who is both cerebral and extremely meticulous, is the conduit. After setting an NFL record by throwing 49 touchdown passes in 2004, he helped the Colts average 362.4 yards per game this year. Indianapolis ranked third in the league in total offense behind Kansas City and Seattle while compiling a 14-2 record in the regular season.

It's a wonder why more teams aren't copying the Colts. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that Indianapolis' schemes require extreme precision in distracting situations. Not many quarterbacks have the work ethic of Manning, who is known for spending hours on end in the film room. And there are few offensive linemen who could stay in the stance like they do and not react to the all the exhortations Manning makes when the play clock is winding down. Such a complicated offensive system requires a lot of preparation.

Porter should realize this. What the Colts do is not trickery. They attack what the defense gives them.  It's ingenious. Deep down the Steelers linebacker probably respects what Indianapolis does. But like so many defensive players who have been burned by the Colts' offense, he is frustrated by it. And it shows.

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. 

In a city that is still recovering from the devastating blow delivered by Hurricane Katrina, few things are certain anymore. Will New Orleans retain the same character that made it so interesting? Will its population ever return to its pre-disaster level? Is New Orleans going to be ready for the next big storm? These questions still have open-ended answers. But for the time being residents of the Big Easy have been assured that they won't have to wonder if their pro football team is leaving them.

The NFL announced Friday that the New Orleans Saints will remain in Louisiana for the 2006 season and will play games at both the Superdome and Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge. It's a smart move by the league and Saints owner Tom Benson, who appeared anxious to relocate his franchise to either San Antonio or sunny Los Angeles both before and after Katrina's wrath.

 Is he sincere?

Courtesy WWLTV

The Saints certainly would not have engendered any good will in New Orleans or elsewhere had they left when times were rough. Such a move would have been deemed selfish and inappropriate while making the NFL guilty by association. League commissioner Paul Tagliabue realized this and made clear he wanted the Saints to stay put. 

But it seems unlikely that the city's marriage with the Saints will last beyond next year. In the last three decades, New Orleans fans have not been exactly come out in droves to support a franchise that has won one playoff game since being founded 38 years ago. This season, the Saints averaged only 42,897 fans in their first three games in Baton Rouge. Even a Times-Picayune editorial suggested that more games should be played at the Saints' other temporary home -- San Antonio. That way, the NFL could see that when the novelty of having a professional football team wears off fans will stop coming and empty seats will become common there because no one is willing to support a loser. It's a fair argument, but not one usually made by a city looking to hold onto its favorite franchise.

In reality, by making the Saints play in New Orleans the NFL is actually giving Benson an opportunity to make his case for moving his team. Fan attendance will likely suffer next year for several reasons. If games are played in the Superdome, some people will not go there for the simple fact that it is common knowledge that unspeakable acts were committed there after residents were evacuated during the hurricane. Too many bad memories are associated with the Superdome. Fans will also not make the two-hour drive to Baton Rouge next season if they didn't this year. They would rather watch LSU, the most popular team in the state and one that has experienced a resurgency in recent years at the same time the Saints have struggled mightily.

New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin said that while he would welcome the return of the Saints, he said he was only "somewhat encouraged" by the decision, according to an AP article. “We are happy that New Orleanians who have lost so much will have an NFL team next season to call their own, "he said. "...We look forward to the day when the Saints organization will fully commit to this community and be a vital part of our recovery for many years to come.”

Don't hold your breath, Mr. Nagin. Benson doesn't want his team in your city and the fans don't seem overly happy that the Saints are coming back. This latest decision to stay for the time being just appears to be a prelude to an end. 

Brett Favre has a tough decision to make, but it appears as if commentators and reporters want to make it for him. At the end of his fifteenth season in the NFL, Favre must decide if he will hang up his helmet and cleats or continue a career that has been nothing short of remarkable. However, the question about whether Favre will retire has not been raised by the quarterback himself, but the media who have watched him take the field on Sundays.

 Still Kicking.

Each year, star athletes who are nearing the end of their careers are nagged by reporters about their futures. As a result, a private, personal decision concerning retirement becomes public. In many cases, these athletes are pressured into putting away their jerseys and waving good bye to the fields, courts, stadiums and arenas they once called home. And that is wrong. Players who are past their primes are constantly reminded of Willie Mays dropping a fly ball with the Mets, Johnny Unitas playing out his last days in a Chargers uniform or Rickey Henderson struggling in the minors.

They are told by reporters that they wouldn't want to go out like that. But most of the media and commentators have never been in their shoes. They don't know what it is like to be in their positions or how much these guys really have left in the tank. For every Arnold Palmer, there is a Julio Franco or Roger Clemens. Clemens, who was was believed by former Red Sox General Manager Dan Duquette to be nearing the end of his career in the mid-90s, led the majors in ERA last season. He is hardly a pity case.

Neither is Favre. Favre did not have a good year this season, but it is hard for a quarterback to have success when he has a weak offensive line and an unstable backfield with a group of running backs who keep going down with injuries. Not many signal callers in the NFL would be thriving in that situation, especially some of the younger quarterbacks in the league. Joey Harrington has been nothing short of terrible in his four-year stint with the Detroit Lions. Kyle Boller hasn't been much better with the Balimore Ravens. Nobody is calling for them to retire, even though they have not even come close to reaching the level of success that Favre has.

The only reason why Favre is being forced to answer questions about his future is that he is a veteran and is regarded as one of the best at his position. If Favre's skills have really diminished to the point that he can no longer effectively run the offense, Green Bay would find a way to bench him. It's that simple. Even Knicks center Patrick Ewing was run out of New York. The fact is that Favre is capable of playing and making up his own mind. He does not need outsiders deciding for him. But that is what happens to players who have made an impact on their sport. It is the price they pay for getting old while still being considered great.

Next fall, when the television schedules are printed with the Sunday newspapers, there will be something missing in Monday's 9 p.m. Eastern slot designated for ABC. For the last 36 years, "Monday Night Football" has been a fixture in television programming for the youngest of the three major networks. 

  Gone but not forgotten.

Courtesy Columbia University

Through its reign, it has outlasted successful sitcoms, dramas and even soap operas, while changing the face of sports broadcasting and becoming a part of American pop culture.  A recent Domino's commercial featured a man singing the opening theme song for "Monday Night Football" into a telephone, signifying that it was time to watch football and order some pizza. There were no words, just the identifiable chords from a piece of music that had become inextricably linked with one of the longest running shows on television. 

But "Monday Night Football" on ABC is now just a memory. Next year, it will be broadcast on ESPN, a cable network that is viewed by a smaller percentage of the population than ABC. Roone Arledge's creation will join the likes of all the other games that are broadcast on a channel exclusively dedicated to sports. Maybe it was meant to be this way.

In many ways, "Monday Night Football" had lost its significance a long time ago. Howard Cosell, Don Meredith and Frank Gifford made it into a national phenomenon before cable and satellite television existed. They became as well-known or even more famous than the NFL players beating each other up in the games they were broadcasting. The program had become an event and provided fodder for water cooler talk on Tuesdays. But when its most dynamic announcing team disbanded, ABC was left with a void that Dan Dierdorf, Dan Fouts or comedian Dennis Miller could never fill.

Other networks, meanwhile, were employing the same techniques to televise their sporting events that ABC invented while broadcasting "Monday Night Football." The program had lost its character, but also was having trouble holding onto an audience that had watched "Monday Night Football" from the very beginning. As the games seemed to drag on into the wee hours of the morning in the Eastern time zone, ABC was losing its older generation of viewers who had become accustomed to watching network television in their youth. 

Still, the games were the reason people tuned in week after week. They saw the Miami Dolphins upset the Chicago Bears in 1985 and Washington Redskins quarterback Joe Theisman's career end with a horrifying compound fracture. Oakland Raiders running back Bo Jackson also turned in a memorable performance against the Seattle Seahawks in primetime that still appears on highlight reels to this day.

Back then, "Monday Night Football" was still an American institution. It isn't anymore. That's why when the average couch potato is flipping the channels at home at the beginning of the work week next fall, he won't be all that upset to find that football is no longer on ABC. Instead, he will just turn on his digital cable and tune to ESPN to watch yet another game without giving it much thought.  

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. 

Mike Nolan should just admit it. The San Francisco 49ers made a mistake when they took Alex Smith with the first overall pick of the 2005 Draft. The quarterback, who played college ball at Utah, has had a disastrous rookie campaign that reached its nadir last week in San Francisco's 41-3 loss to Seattle.

Smith had three fumbles in that game and has nine this year, numbers that highlight the problems that have plagued the quarterback all season. His struggles with holding onto the football have also led to questions about the size of his hands, which have also been involved in throwing nine interceptions this year versus no touchdowns. In a draft that was loaded with good running backs but also featured a noticeable dearth in quarterback talent, San Francisco picked a signal caller. Sure, the 49ers had a need. But there was talk that had San Francisco not selected Smith he would have been waiting quite a while to be picked, much like fellow quarterback Aaron Rodgers, who was the 24th player taken.

 Courtesy AP

If the 49ers were smart, they would have traded down or picked somebody else like wide receiver Braylon Edwards. Edwards would have been a nice complement to current USC quarterback Matt Leinart, who could be in position to be selected by the 49ers if they decide that Smith is a bust.

And Smith seems to be on his way to becoming one of those players who does not live up to expectations. Perhaps that has a lot to do with the fact that he ran a system offense in college, much like Andre Ware and the gaggle of Florida quarterbacks who played under Steve Spurrier. Ware, who coordinated Houston's Run-and-Shoot attack with precision, completed only 83 passes during an abbreviated NFL career after being picked by the Lions with the seventh overall pick in the 1990 draft. Danny Wuerffel and Shane Matthews lit up defenses while playing with the Gators, but lost their bite when they started passing in the pros.

Smith, the centerpiece for Urban Meyer's Spread-Option offense while at Utah, also has had shell-shock since making the transition to the NFL. While some may claim that it is too early to give up on Smith, it seems pretty evident that he will not be a star in this league. He looks confused in the pocket and has failed to adjust to the speed of the game in a league where a split-second decision can make or break a season. Just ask Donovan McNabb.

If San Francisco is presented with the opportunity, the 49ers would be prudent to draft Matt Leinart and make amends for a poor decision. Leinart runs a Pro-Style offense at USC and manages the game well, making limited mistakes and showing moxie at crucial junctures of big games. His 34-1 record is proof of that. Smith, meanwhile, burst on the scene during one remarkable season at Utah. Since then, he has shown that he was not as good as he was cracked up to be when the 49ers selected him with the first pick. San Francisco can only blame itself. But there still is time to fix a mistake and the 49ers will have the opportunity to do so in April.