“My chest doesn’t hurt. If I sneeze or cough now I don’t worry about it. Before, it was a tremendous amount of pain.”DAN REEVES
MIAMI – There have been coaches who arrived seeking redemption or validation. They have come to Super Bowls in search of glory, even greatness, while others hoped to chase away haunting whispers that they cannot win the big one.
And then there is Dan Reeves, who appears, remarkably, on the Super Bowl XXXIII stage as the central figure in a drama that hovers over all else, the leading man in a scenario beyond the most outrageous creation of the most imaginative scriptwriter.
When Reeves tonight steps out on the lush, green grass at Pro Player Stadium, he does so not merely as the head coach of a Falcons squad that rates as the most unlikely participant this game has ever included. This event is about many things but mostly about Reeves, a three-time Super Bowl loser who goes against a Broncos organization that once fired him, goes against a coach in Mike Shanahan who despises him and goes against a quarterback, John Elway, who once described playing for Reeves as hell.
All intriguing, all absorbing. But no coach has ever had so many lurking distractions blown away by a health issue that is frightening, inspiring and potentially dangerous.
At kickoff, Reeves will be only 48 days removed from quadruple heart-bypass surgery, and he will walk the sideline with medication coursing through his body, designed to thin his blood and regulate his heart rate and blood pressure. His physician will be nearby, as will general manager Harold Richardson, who will double as a personal protector for Reeves, making sure the 55-year-old head coach does not get run over by a pile of players spilling off the field.
“You heard about people taking bullets for people; I’m not sure this isn’t worse,” Richardson said.
This has been a life-altering experience for those in Reeves’ widespread inner circle and for Reeves himself. Less than two months after surgeon James Kauten cut open Reeves’ chest and held in his hand a non-beating heart, Reeves will slip on a headset and attempt to lead an underdog band of Falcons to his elusive first NFL championship as a coach.
“I think I’ve always had a good understanding of how fragile life is,” Reeves said.
That understanding was shaken to the core in the days leading up to the Dec. 14 surgery to clear three major blockages and one less severe blockage. After an early setback put him back in the hospital, Reeves has made steady progress and was back on the sideline for Atlanta’s two playoff victories.
There have been few concessions to the grind of Super Bowl week, other than the easy chair in meeting rooms that allows Reeves – who has been his usual accommodating, homespun self – to get some rest while he works. “I don’t get as tired as I have,” Reeves said. “My chest doesn’t hurt. If I sneeze or cough now I don’t worry about it. Before, it was a tremendous amount of pain.”
However, this is an ongoing situation and his personal physician, Dr. Charles Harrison, admits “there is a risk” when Reeves takes the field.
It would have been potentially devastating if Reeves were jostled three weeks ago, when he was in the initial stages of healing. “Still,” said Harrison, who is also the Falcons’ team physician, “if players hit him at the same time on the sideline, it wouldn’t be a good thing. Like getting hit walking across the expressway. I wouldn’t recommend that.”
Reeves is taking cumadin, a medication that thins his blood, and also a beta-blocker to control his heart rate and blood pressure. As a precaution, Reeves will attempt to position himself behind the line of scrimmage during plays and on the far side when the teams are punting, decreasing the likelihood a sudden rush of bodies will come his way.
“All of us who have coached, who have been on the sideline, at some point in time have been run over,” said Richardson, who at 6-3 and 240 pounds is a sturdy bodyguard. “You think it’s never going to happen, and all of a sudden one of those gunners comes down and gets knocked out of bounds. I’ll keep my eye open for him.”
Harrison’s hotel room this week was two doors down from Reeves, and there were daily checkups and adjustments in his medication. “With the pressure of the Super Bowl we’re being a little extra protective,” Harrison said.
“I must be taking about 10 pills a day,” said Reeves. “You get those things in your hand, you throw them in there, you’re just hoping they are going to the right place.”
The sense of humor is intact, although the severity of all this has not been lost on the Falcons. They were already crafting an astonishing season when Reeves went down, but there was no letup as players continue to be moved by their coach’s courageous return.
“If a guy lays it on the line for you, under those circumstances, we’ll do whatever we can to win this game for Dan,” defensive end Chuck Smith said.
“Every time I see him I just want to thank him,” added receiver Terance Mathis. “What he means to the team … this is a guy who had his chest opened up and three weeks later he’s on the sidelines. This is a guy who loves his team.”
The Falcons are intent on winning for themselves and also for Reeves, inspired by him rather than fearful for him.
“If Dan could not coach, believe me, this game’s not worth dying over,” Smith said. “He has a family, he has grandkids, if it wasn’t realistic to think he could go out there without getting hurt, he wouldn’t be there.”
If tonight’s game is tight, if the championship hangs in the balance, if a call goes against the Falcons, Harrison said he will not worry that Reeves cannot handle the stress. “He may be mad as a hornet, but the medication we have him on will do the job,” Harrison said. “His heart has been fixed and it ain’t going to get unfixed.”
Win or lose, risk or not, Reeves will be on the sideline tonight, coaching. “You got to feel,” he said, “like you are the luckiest human in the world.”
