Redskins’ Williams Goes Home to Rest

Washington Redskins quarterback Doug Williams went south for the winter Wednesday, with a winding 17-hour drive by himself to Zachary, La. His knee brace isn’t going, nor is his appointment book, which is rather empty on purpose. His plan is to hibernate and fit two offseasons into one, because last winter was a late-night phone call, unrestful after that Super Bowl.

His departure essentially signals the end of his MVP reign, a curious 11 months that added to his legend, and lessened his naivete. Booed at RFK Stadium here and benched by his bosom-buddy coach, Joe Gibbs, he accepted his season as another twisted route in his imperfect life, though he never frets for more than a minute or two and won’t blame anyone.

The glee he takes with him Wednesday is that his wobbly left knee never gave out. “I only missed games due to an appendectomy and Coach Gibbs,” he said. He also recalled that former Redskins quarterback Joe Theismann predicted he’d be hurt within six weeks, and Williams said the only reason he practiced twice a day in training camp was to zip the lips of the critics who had labeled him brittle. On other fronts, these 11 months proved unkind. Though his Doug Williams Foundation flourished and his new line of clothes made him very GQ, he still felt somewhat of a racial snub from corporate America, which did not commercialize him as it has other Super Bowl MVPs. His total endorsement revenue was $130,000, as opposed to the estimated $500,000 to $700,000 earned by the Giants’ Phil Simms. But it’s not so much money as principle to Williams.

“It’ll be interesting to see who wins MVP (this year) in the Super Bowl and what happens to him,” Williams said as he dug into crab cakes at Crisfield Sea Food Restaurant in Silver Spring, Md. “It’ll give people an understanding of what it’s really like (with corporate America). It’s not as easy being a black quarterback as (people) might think. People might feel I’m crying now; I’m not a crybaby. But a lot of people don’t write about the real side. What’s the real side? Being a black quarterback in the NFL is like being a black president. . . . It’s the truth. It’s hard (for people) to accept.”

Someone said to him, “It’s too bad what you’re up against,” and he countered: “I’m not up against it. I’m through with it. My intent was never to fight that battle. I played and left that to Martin Luther King and Jesse Jackson and to the John Fitzgerald and Bobby Kennedys.”

This racial tension, he said, was perhaps tied into the booing at RFK, which at times seemed as loud as a sonic boom. “Some booed because they weren’t ready for a black to be a leader,” Williams said. “Some didn’t like the way we were playing, and some booed because the person next to them booed.”

Where he gained most solace was out in the community, where he realized the people booing didn’t walk or drive the city streets. When driving there, Williams was mobbed at most red lights by interested passers-by who covet those simple autographs. “A lot of times at red lights I try to hide my face, mostly out of embarrassment,” he said. “I hate to stop traffic. I feel sorry for the drivers behind me.”

At Crisfield’s, which is a regular stop for him and his wife, Lisa, he signed a dozen autographs.

Clearly, Washington is his home-away-from-home, and he figures when he’s a college coach somewhere in a few years he’ll enjoy recruiting here. “I won’t get everybody, but I’ll get some players from D.C.,” he said. “I just hate D.C.’s so far away from Zachary.”

This coaching talk is for real, and it’s probable he’ll end up at Southern University or at his alma mater, Grambling. His hope is eventually to be a head coach. “I want to be in Gibbs’ position,” he said. “I want to have gut feelings.”

Some observers figure it makes sense for Williams to step in as legend Eddie Robinson’s replacement at Grambling, though he scoffs at this. “That’s a tough act to follow,” he said. “That’s like taking Bear Bryant’s place. I mean, did (Ray) Perkins do well at Alabama? He had that Bear cloud over his head.”

The fact that he’s contemplating this more civilized life of Xs and Os means he feels retirement isn’t far away, and Williams has pondered it. His current $1 million-a-year contract extends two more seasons, at which time he’ll come back only if wanted. When he arrived in Washington in 1986, he figured his career would end after the 1988 season. “By the time three years was up,” he said, “I figured Jay Schroeder still would be the quarterback and Mark Rypien would be the understudy and they’d get the old man out of here. I don’t know if that was their plan, but that was my thinking.”

As it stands, he will return next July as the starter, and he and Gibbs remain allies. This season’s jerking in-and-out with Williams and Rypien--eight changes in all, four during games--hardly has bruised Gibbs’ and Williams’ more-than-skin-deep relationship that includes Gibbs coming to ask Williams for advice on players.

“There’s a place and time for friendship and for football, and the decisions he made were football related,” Williams explained. “If he was to tell me not to talk to his sons, J.D. and Coy, or his wife, I’d take that as a slap at friendship. But who’s starting, that’s strictly business. Listen, my boy, Adrian Michael, is only 3 weeks old, but if I ever coach him he won’t play just because he’s the coach’s son. And I don’t want his mama messing with me if he doesn’t play.”

The problem with quarterbacks these days, Williams said, is “too many of them are sensitive guys,” and getting yanked in and out hurts them. “Here,” he said, “you’ve got one guy who’s not sensitive about it--me.”

Financially, meanwhile, he’s doing okay. There’s even a Doug Williams Sporting Goods store in Silver Spring, Md., (teammate Eric Yarber is a partner), a continuing, lucrative TV gig with WRC’s George Michael and that $1 million contract. Owner Jack Kent Cooke made a big scene out of the contract announcement at the team’s “welcome home” luncheon, but truth be known, the quarterback asked that much of the money be deferred, so he’ll be getting paid close to $200,000 a year the first 10 years after retirement. “What would I do with a million a year now anyway?” he said. “Pay more taxes?”

The only jewelry he wears is the Super Bowl ring, and all that cash hasn’t changed his frugal lifestyle, “other than buying a few more slacks,” he said. Actually, he has refurbished his parents’ home and installed a satellite dish for his father, who is in a wheelchair and whose favorite show is “The Dexter Manley Report” on Home Team Sports.