Marinovich Sees Tide Turn Again : Crowded Raider Camp Threatens to Imperil Up-and-Down Career

Once again, the tide has brought Todd Marinovich back to shore.

Once again, it’s time to trade his surfboard for a football.

Once again, it’s time to prove himself.

Or has Marinovich finally run out of time?

A year ago, he came to training camp competing for the Raiders’ starting quarterback job. Now, he is back in Oxnard struggling simply to be a Raider.

Last season, there was only the inconsistent Jay Schroeder ahead of him. Now, Marinovich finds the solid Jeff Hostetler, the ageless Vince Evans and the promising Billy Joe Hobert in camp, all with the potential to rob Marinovich of a roster spot--although the Raiders say they are prepared to carry four quarterbacks.

What happened? How did he go from being the fair-haired, first-round draft choice of 1991 to the briefly dark-haired, third-string reserve of 1993?

To get away from the spotlight in the off-season, Marinovich acknowledged, he once dyed his hair black in ’92.

“When people saw that, along with this,” he said, pointing to his fair, freckled complexion, “they thought I was really crazy.”

And maybe that, as much as anything he has done on the field, is the answer to the question: What happened?

Marinovich’s reputation as an eccentric, his much-heralded clashes with then-coach Larry Smith at USC, his failure to attend classes and his arrest for drug possession have added up to a huge negative in the minds of Raider officials.

But Marinovich is confident that he can overcome all doubts and remain in silver and black.

“This is definitely the team I was made to play for,” he said. “I don’t see myself in another uniform. I can’t picture that.”

Nor does Marinovich accept the image he has been unable to alter.

“Your past is something it seems you can never erase,” he said. “I’m trying to live it down, and people keep bringing it up. It’s hard to overcome.

“There could be a book written about all the things I’ve supposedly done that I haven’t done. I have to laugh when I hear where I supposedly was, who I supposedly was with and what I’ve supposedly done. It’s reached myth status. It would be sad if people get caught up in that.”

Marinovich, however, concedes that it’s not all myth.

“I’m not an angel,” he said. “Far from it. But some of the best players are out there doing what I was doing, which is having fun. People like that used to be called characters. Nowadays, it’s more like convicts. Attitudes have changed.

“I’ve got God-given talent to throw a football. Yes, I’ve gone out and had a few drinks with the boys, and I’ve made a few mistakes. But it’s been hard. It’s been a major tarnishing experience.”

Although he is only 24, Marinovich’s experiences, both good and bad, have been in the public eye for a long time.

He began as football’s first test-tube quarterback. The story has been told repeatedly about how his father, Marv, also a former Trojan and Raider, trained his son, literally from the crib, to be an athlete.

The young Marinovich’s life seemed set on a course smoother and straighter than most.

Instead, it has has developed enough bumps and turns and ups and downs to shake the steadiest of personalties:

--He was up. A star at Capistrano Valley High in Mission Viejo, Marinovich went to the alma mater of his father, Marv, and his uncle, Craig Fertig, a former USC quarterback.

--He was down. As a redshirt freshman, Todd was facing a season on the Trojan bench behind quarterback Pat O’Hara.

--He was up. When O’Hara suffered a serious knee injury before the opening game in 1989, Marinovich was handed the starting job and responded with a brilliant freshman season.

--He was down. In his second season, Marinovich was in and out of the starting lineup because of clashes with Smith over attitude and failure to attend classes.

“I was bull-headed about some issues,” Marinovich acknowledges. “But I don’t know many students who don’t miss some classes.”

Marinovich’s Trojan career ended in a sideline shouting match with Smith.

Marinovich was subsequently charged with a misdemeanor for possession of marijuana and cocaine. He was placed in a one-year diversion program for first-time offenders.

--He was up. After leaving school two years early, Marinovich was selected in the first round of the 1991 draft by the Raiders, with comparisons being made to another left-handed quarterback in Raider lore, Ken Stabler.

Marinovich finished his first season as the starter after Schroeder was hurt.

--He was way up. When the Raiders lost the first two games of the 1992 season, Schroeder, the opening-day starter, was benched, and Marinovich was given the job.

“I stepped into the seat,” Marinovich said, “and I thought I was going to ride that job through the rest of my career.”

--He was way down. Would you believe seven games?

That’s how long Marinovich lasted in the job of a lifetime.

After having thrown three interceptions against the Philadelphia Eagles by the time the second quarter was barely five minutes old, Marinovich was replaced by Schroeder.

It didn’t matter that the first interception came on a ball that sailed out of the arms of Willie Gault, or that the second had been tipped.

Marinovich soon found himself third on the depth chart behind Evans, 37, amid rumors that Marinovich had tested positive for drug use.

He denies that, as he denies reports of a year earlier that he had been in a rehabilitation clinic. “Never happened,” he said.

When the season ended, Marinovich disappeared with his surfboard, taking it all over the world, from the South Pacific to the Caribbean to the shores of Ireland. For several months, he had no contact with his team.

The Raiders got Hostetler. The Raiders drafted Hobert.

No matter. Marinovich has come to camp knowing that his biggest obstacle to remaining a Raider is his own reputation.

“Hopefully,” he said, “my actions will help me make them believe I’m serious.”

Marinovich has always responded when his career was on the line.

The first crucial moment came in his third game as a Trojan. Marinovich started that day at the Coliseum against Ohio State.

But early in the second quarter, he was injured when Ohio State’s Tom Lease fell on him, injuring his left wrist.

In came reserve Shane Foley to throw a touchdown pass.

Suddenly, Marinovich, not yet on solid ground as a starter, had to worry about losing his job.

Was he all right? Smith asked.

Yes, Marinovich replied, lying to his coach.

So Smith sent him back in, and Marinovich responded with four touchdown passes, including an 87-yard play to John Jackson, the longest in school history, to lead USC to a 42-3 victory.

Only now does Marinovich acknowledge that he played the rest of that day and subsequent games with a slightly broken throwing wrist.

“I wanted to say something so many times,” he now concedes, “to explain why I was throwing those fluttering passes. But (the Trojan coaches) didn’t want other teams to find out.”

But that’s ancient history. Marinovich finds himself in another battle for his future.

Whatever his fate, he is sure of one thing. When it’s all over, he’s going to get on that surfboard and never look back.

“When I’m done playing,” he said, “people are going to be sick of reading about me. But you do not have to worry about it, because, when I’m done, you’ll never hear from me again.”

But that, according to Marinovich, is in the distant future.