A ‘Feel Good’ coach

Chuckles filled the office, and the smile beaming from Darrell “Mouse” Davis’ face sparkled as he leaned back in his chair and gazed at Denny Ferguson standing in the doorway.

Holding up a green button about the size and shape of a Boston Cream doughnut, Davis nodded to Ferguson and said, “It’s called a ‘Feel Good’ button.”

And then Davis, the Vikings’ offensive coordinator, tapped the smooth green plastic, and as it sunk below the button’s black base, the chuckles and snickers were replaced with the sweet sound of James Brown’s hit tune “I Feel Good.”

With a sudden eruption of energy, Davis and Ferguson returned to their jovial state, with Ferguson slapping his knee and the Vikings’ offensive mastermind bobbing back and forth to the music.

The button was a present to Davis–a legendary coach best known as the “Godfather” of the run-and-shoot offense–from daughters for his 75th birthday last September.

“Oh, no, I never use it for myself,” Davis said of the button while fighting off the urge to laugh again. “Sometimes somebody else might need it, though.”

Which makes sense because a man carefree enough to embrace the moniker “Mouse,” a clear jab at his small stature, would most likely never need a button to “feel good.”

Then again, most would imagine that football coaches, especially those guiding 3-8 teams like the Vikings a year ago, would experience a bout of moodiness every now and then.

Not Portland State’s favorite Mouse.

A different kind of MouseFellow coaches and players describe Davis as a fun-loving guy whose mood sours only when one of his players has no idea he has just made a mistake.

“He’s awesome,” sophomore quarterback Drew Hubel said of Davis. “He’s like a 20-year-old in an 85-year-old’s body.”

Both current and former players know Davis might crack jokes or laugh at practice, but he expects a ton out of the athletes he coaches.

“He truly loves you with his heart, but he demands execution,” said Neil Lomax, former Portland State quarterback and two-time NFL Pro Bowler. “It’s all about execution.”

One of those instances when Davis strayed from his loose, fun-loving form occurred at a morning practice this past spring.

As speedy receiver Aaron Woods zoomed inside from near the sideline to beside the right tackle, Davis’ gruff voice boomed from behind the glossy play card he totes around.

“No, no, no. He said ‘wide,'” Davis barked. “If we didn’t give you any motion, stay out there.”

Moseying over to Woods and instructing him further with hand motions, Davis accomplished what he had set out to all along: Teach the speedster a football lesson.

And the youthful, energetic and sometimes stern Davis is no stranger to teaching on the gridiron. This season marks his 53rd year as a coach, with six of those years representing a largely successful stint as head coach of the Vikings from 1975-80.

Starting out as a defensive coordinator at his alma mater, the Oregon College of Education (now Western Oregon University), Davis has enjoyed a fruitful career on the sidelines. His stops include the high school and college ranks, the defunct United States Football League, the Arena League, the Canadian Football League and the NFL.

And as if that list were not comprehensive enough, Davis was also one of the founding members of the Arena League back in 1987.

Staying youngFrom his days playing tackle football with friends in Portland parks as a seventh grader–which Mouse now calls “stupid” because of the inherent dangers–to the state championship he won in 1973 as head coach at Hillsboro High School to his experience as a pro coach, a main cog in Davis’ approach has been his tireless work ethic.

As Jerry Glanville, Portland State head coach and longtime friend, will tell anyone who inquires, Davis works around the clock for football. While the two coaches have been on the same staff, Glanville said he has arrived at the office before Davis only three times.

“Anytime I beat him to work, I call him on the phone because I know he’s sleeping,” Glanville said. “And it doesn’t matter what time I come in the morning, he’s already there working. I come in at five in the morning and he’s here working.”

At the University of Hawaii, Glanville, then the Warriors’ defensive coordinator, would often receive a bit of assistance breaking down film of the opposing team’s offense.

After spending hour upon hour dissecting his own film, Davis would regularly sit in on Glanville’s sessions to provide pointers on containing the “enemy’s” quarterback.

“Mouse is the best of the best,” Glanville said. “I don’t think Mouse and I ever have a conversation, ever, that’s not about football. We don’t chit chat.”

Watching Davis amble across the Stott Community Field turf at practice, it is obvious why he and Glanville never broach any other subjects during conversations–Mouse has a passion for the game.

Dressed in a black Portland State hat and running suit, Davis barked orders.

With his colorful play sheet in one hand and resting his chin on the other, Davis closely observed the drill. Undressing the intricacies of the scheme with his eyes, he stared pensively at the alignment. He has seen the run-and-shoot executed thousands of times, both in his head and on the field.

And Davis knows what seamless execution looks like better than anyone, because he prepared the blueprint.

‘The way to move the ball’Before his days in the South Park Blocks in the mid-1970s, Davis used five Portland-area high schools to put the blueprint of his pass-laden offense into action.

At its core, the offense passes the ball to set up the run, not the other way around like most “football people” tend to believe.

With four-receiver sets, a running back and no tight ends, the run-and-shoot employs considerable pre-snap motion, drawing the defense in with short, quick tosses, then burning it with a rush or long bomb.

In the end, the objectives for the run-and-shoot are clear: Rack up gobs of yardage and score gobs of points. “It’s become the way to move the football,” Davis said. “If you want to win, you have to score.”

Over the years, some football people have begun to agree with Davis, and variations of the run-and-shoot have inundated the game.

At the college level, hoards of schools have adapted a spread attack similar to Davis’ run-and-shoot, with schools like Oregon, Hawaii and West Virginia finding the most success.

Several NFL teams employed the run-and-shoot during the late ’80s and early ’90s, including Glanville’s Houston Oilers and, under Davis, former Portland State quarterback June Jones’ Atlanta Falcons.

Despite many NFL coaches dismissing the run-and-shoot as a gimmick scheme, a main reason why it has lost traction in the league, Davis has left his mark on football.

But the man with the Feel Good button is not going to boast about altering the football landscape with his ideology.

Davis gives much of the credit for his conception of the run-and-shoot to the late Glenn “Tiger” Ellison of Middletown, Ohio. Ellison pioneered the offense in the late 1950s, but Davis has popularized it and has given the scheme his own twist.

“I wouldn’t want to say I’m the one who invented the spread,” Davis said. “Every guy evolves the offense because of his experience, and like and dislikes.”

‘More than just an ex-coach, ex-player deal’Jones says that everyone runs forms of what Davis has created, which he believes illustrates how Portland State’s offensive genius has impacted the game.

“Yeah, he’s pretty humble about it, but it’s a fact,” Jones said of Davis’ role in revolutionizing the game. But Davis is not just a revolutionary when it comes to the Xs and Os of the game, he is also one of the most caring coaches around, dispelling the common misconception that coaching is all about yelling, screaming and disciplining.

“You have to have a close relationship with your players,” Davis said. “It’s almost like they’re your kids.” When his “kids” graduate and move on to their next endeavor, Davis said he is pleased to find out the guys he coached are making positive contributions to the world.

“You root for players to not only do well in football, but also in life,” Davis said.

Lomax, one of Davis’ greatest pupils, said the offensive mastermind taught him an immense amount about football.

But Lomax describes his relationship with Davis as “more than just an ex-coach, ex-player deal.”

Long after Lomax’s football playing days have wrapped up, he still keeps in contact with Davis, calling him on the phone to chat or visiting him to reminisce about old times at his Sixth Avenue office.

Still just Feeling Good The words “Whoa-oa-oa! I feel good, I knew that I would, now I feel good,” blared out of the little green button, as Davis placed it back in its hiding spot.

It rests on the lower of a pair of white shelves affixed to his office wall, nestled between a projector used to break down film and a piece of fan mail addressed to Lomax.

As the song neared a close with “like sugar and spice I feel nice, like sugar and spice,” Davis giggled a bit more, flashing the same shining smile he wears to the football field every day.

Looking back at the Feel Good button on the shelf, Davis pointed at the little saucer-like object and snickered again.

“How can you feel crappy when you’ve got that.”

Letting the D score Part of Davis’ legacy is that while others have doubted the run-and-shoot and often looked to outlaw it, he has believed in it from its inception.

As evidence of Davis’ belief in his offensive scheme, Jones shared a story of a moment he vividly remembers as quarterback for Portland State in 1976.

The Vikings were facing off against Montana at Civic Stadium, now PGE Park. With the ball on their 20-yard line, the Grizzlies were down 44-42 with about 2:20 remaining.

Jones recalls Davis looking at the defensive coordinator and shouting, “Let them score.” The defensive coordinator failed to respond, so the man who finds joy in his “Feel Good” button and the head coach at the time, screamed back, “Let them score.”

Davis and the defensive coordinator continued arguing. But Davis ultimately won. And on the next play, Montana threw a deep bomb for a 70-yard touchdown pass, propelling them ahead of the Vikings 49-44. “He thought they were going to use up all of the clock,” Jones said. Portland State received the ball back with about 1:40 on the clock, and after picking up a few first downs, Jones connected with one of his wide receivers with a few seconds remaining to win 50-49.