Coach brings discipline to Terps, who then realize they need it During a light contact drill in practice Wednesday, a Maryland offensive lineman had to be helped off the field, his injured knee unable to support his 295 pounds. But new Terrapins coach Randy Edsall showed little concern over possibly losing a starter on an already depleted unit. For him it was a teaching moment.
“You get lazy, you get hurt,” Edsall yelled for all the Terps to hear.
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| The Edsall file |
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| Randy Edsall, who turned 53 on Saturday, and his wife, Eileen, have two children. Their daughter, Alexi, 21, is a student at UConn, and their son, Corey, 18, is a football and baseball player at East Catholic High in Manchester, Conn. |
| » Edsall was all-state in football, basketball and baseball for Susquehannock High in Glen Rock, Pa., in the 1970s. He was a reserve quarterback at Syracuse from 1976 to 1979. |
| » He was an assistant at Syracuse (1980-90), Boston College (1991-93) and with the Jacksonville Jaguars (1994-97) before becoming Georgia Tech’s defensive coordinator (1998). He served as Connecticut’s coach from 1999 to 2010 and finished 74-70 with five bowl appearances with the Huskies. |
For a team coming off the second-most dramatic turnaround in the FBS — from 2-10 in 2009 to 9-4 in 2010 — this year has been a rude awakening under Edsall, the antithesis of his predecessor, grandfatherly Ralph Friedgen.
Instead of being toasted for their successful transformation, the Terps have been roasted for their poor performance in the classroom, their selfish ways on the field and even their appearance.
Hats indoors? Earrings? Unruly facial hair?
Not in Edsall’s army.
When senior wide receiver Quintin McCree met Edsall, the coach reminded him of a character in the film “Life,” Sergeant Dillard of the Mississippi State Penitentiary.
“This is the gun line. It runs from shack to shack,” said McCree, quoting the movie. “If you step outside the gun line without my permission, you will be shot.”
While Edsall’s form of discipline may seem confining, many Terps acknowledge it was needed.
“They demand a whole lot more and demand it every day,” senior wide receiver Ronnie Tyler said. “It affects the way I approach things, on and off the field. My best technique every play, not taking any plays off.”
Is it possible for the Terps to build on their success of 2010 with a coach who has been intent on breaking them down? Since Edsall took over, 12 scholarship players with eligibility remaining have departed.
“We thought we were pretty well off, but he came in and showed us we could be so much more,” Tyler said. “He pushes us every day, every practice, every drill, every play. His will to win is rubbing off on us.”
Rebuilding Maryland in his image has been Edsall’s mission since he took over in January, even if it involves some short-term pain.
“You have to come in and establish that foundation for what you want the program to be,” Edsall said. “A team happens from year to year. The program stands the test of time.”
Junior tackle A.J. Francis was one of the first to run afoul of Edsall’s regimentation last spring, arriving late for a meeting. His punishment was to do bear-crawls on the field. But after his exhausting indoctrination to the Edsall regime, Francis is accentuating the positive.
“I think the greatest thing that’s happened to this program since the 1952 national championship is the soft-serve ice cream in the dining hall,” Francis jokes of one of the perks Edsall has delivered. “I think that’s the stepping stone for getting back to the national championship.”
For his discipline, Edsall credits his father, Dick, a steelworker who passed away two years ago, though his no-nonsense coaching style is similar to that of Tom Coughlin of the New York Giants. Edsall worked for Coughlin at Boston College and the Jacksonville Jaguars, then an expansion team.
When another start-up opportunity arose at Connecticut in 1999 and Edsall got his chance to become a head coach for the first time, he took the job before even visiting campus. At UConn, which moved to Division I in 2000 and the Big East in 2004, Edsall built a perennial bowl contender by instilling discipline and delegating authority.
Edsall has described his relationship with his staff as “coaching the coaches.” His role as a hands-off overseer is evident in Maryland practices, where he moves quietly from drill to drill, observing intently. During Wednesday’s practice there were stretches as long as 15 minutes when Edsall didn’t say a word. But like a bird of prey he was always ready to pounce.
“Number 15, what are you doing?” Edsall screamed when freshman linebacker Mario Rowson failed to take his assigned spot during a special teams drill.
Junior linebacker Demetrius Hartsfield was next to feel the wrath of Edsall.
“Too soft, too soft,” Edsall hollered. “Too nice number 9, too nice number 9. Too nice.”
Long after practice, Edsall still was steamed at the injured lineman even though he was taken away in a cart.
“That just always boggles my mind,” Edsall said. “How do you get hurt on a day like this when there’s no tackling? That’s why you gotta learn to play the game on your feet and go hard until the whistle blows.”
