Post by TheShadow on Jul 8, 2007 8:59:54 GMT -5
www.fresnobee.com/
Kurt Hegre / The Fresno Bee
He's the son of an NFL Hall of Fame receiver, which means he could make one or two phone calls today and land an assistant coaching job in the league.
Yet Fred Biletnikoff Jr., a proud, independent man of indefatigable energy, finds more comfort toiling in the backwaters of Arenafootball2 as head coach and general manager of the Central Valley Coyotes.
Biletnikoff Jr. works 14- to 18-hour days. He oversees his three-man office staff and every minute aspect of a 4-year-old franchise struggling to break even financially.
His wife, Cindy, fondly calls her husband a "total workaholic" and explains by saying he won't even take the team's bye week off.
Even she wonders aloud each January, when the NFL coaching carousel begins, why he won't take a $200,000-a-year job over one that pays about half that.
"This is what I think I should be doing," he says. "There aren't too many people who have this kind of job. I'm one of only eight professional football coaches in the state. So, I'm going to work."
Biletnikoff could easily cash in on his recognizable surname, but he refuses to exploit that. Everything he's achieved has come from his own blood, sweat and tears, his own will to get ahead without compromise.
This is a man who, at age 30, returned to college and earned associate's, bachelor's and master's degrees in six years, all the time driving a beer truck -- ironic because he doesn't drink -- or holding a job as an assistant high school coach.
In 2000, Biletnikoff Jr. moved from Hayward with his first wife to Fresno to work on a master's degree in kinesiology at Fresno State and as an unpaid assistant coach at Fresno City College.
The two soon got divorced, a dark period in his life. But he stayed focused. He ran a forklift from 4 a.m. to noon, rushed to Fresno City to coach until 6 p.m., took his night classes at Fresno State, came home and crammed for hours, then got two hours of sleep before heading back to his forklift job.
"Crazy, just crazy," Biletnikoff says, tears welling in his eyes thinking about those days. "But it had to be done."
Throughout this ordeal, never once did he phone home for help.
"No, uh-uh," Fred Biletnikoff Sr. says. "He did it all on his own. He's a strong-willed, tough kid. He knew it was part of life, that he was being tested. And he came through with flying colors."
Work ethic established
Fred Biletnikoff Jr. was raised in the Bay Area, the first of two born to Jeri and Fred Sr., who divorced when Fred Jr. was 5 years old.
He lived with his mom, who worked long hours at multiple jobs to support them, and played with his dad -- hanging out at the Oakland Coliseum for Raiders games and practices, soaking in the NFL and unknowingly making early contacts that could help him down the road.
There was no question where little Freddie got the work ethic that one day would come to consume him on the job. But it took awhile for him to realize how his dad fit in.
"I didn't stop to look at it until later in life," Fred Jr. says. "You don't make the Hall of Fame unless you work your ass off and make sacrifices to become the best. I can now appreciate that my parents passed that along to me."
Fred Jr. rarely mentions his dad's name. There is an unspoken burden living with a tag synonymous with football greatness. Fred Sr. had one of the softest pair of hands -- and the surest from constant use of Stickum -- in the NFL. He played 14 seasons with the Raiders, played in two AFL All-Star games and was a four-time Pro Bowl selection.
It's a weight that fuels Fred Jr.'s determination to succeed on his own terms.
"Carrying the B name on your back, you don't want to screw up," he says. "So, I go the extra mile to not embarrass the family name my dad created in the football world. And I never use the name to get ahead."
That's a topic father and son somehow have avoided.
"Freddie knows on his own there's a standard you need to play, to coach ... how you act," Fred Sr. says. "I never wanted him to feel there was something behind him. The one thing I've admired is that he's gone out, found what he wants, and worked things out on his own. He just wants to show people he's not one of the kids who has things handed to him."
Setting new standard
AF2 is the stepchild of the indoor Arena Football League, a distant cousin of the Canadian Football League, itself a mere shadow of the NFL.
Yet this is where Biletnikoff Jr. has chosen to make a stand and provide for wife Cindy and newly adopted 2-year-old Katelyn.
He works in a community he's learned to appreciate.
It began in 2000 when he joined Tony Caviglia's staff at Fresno City for a six-year run. In 2002, he took on the added job of Fresno Frenzy assistant coach. That AF2 team folded after one year, but he joined the Coyotes when Bakersfield moved to Fresno in 2004 and the franchise was bought by the Santa Rosa Rancheria Tachi Yokut Tribe that operates the Tachi Palace Indian Gaming Center near Lemoore.
Biletnikoff Jr. was handed the interim head coaching job when Cree Morris was fired late that first season. He was named full-time coach in 2005 and general manager in 2006.
Once in charge, he rolled up his sleeves and dove in. He took over a 1-10 team and went 2-3 the rest of 2004, then 8-8 in 2005, 12-5 and to the playoffs in 2006 and is 8-5 so far this season.
That first week as interim head coach in 2004, however, was an eye-opener.
"I met the Tribe on a Monday, hired my staff and kicked some players off the team the next few days," he recalls. "We had no trainer, no PR guy. Then we flew on Friday to Hawaii for a game. We got to the Island at night and held a walk-through. Members of the Tribe were there and wanted us to go to a luau. There was drinking all night and at 11:30 p.m. I finally said, 'We gotta get these guys to bed.'
"No wonder they weren't winning any games. People didn't know what it meant to run a professional franchise."
Now that Biletnikoff is the general manager, he's become more active in changing that perception.
"I took the football stuff and translated it to the business side," he says. "Recruiting, building networks and relationships. Knocking on doors and getting things done.
"We're still trying to establish ourselves in the community. We need to let people know we changed gears. So, you need to make sure you fulfill promises, take care of local people. If we want to be a professional team, we have to act like one. And in turn, we want to be treated like one."
Always in control
Biletnikoff, a jolly man of 41, stands 5 feet, 10 inches and weighs 240 pounds. He wears a head of thinning blond hair and a cherub face. His lower lip is usually packed with Copenhagen and a 24-ounce coffee is his sidekick -- the nicotine rushes a power boost to get him through the marathon days he happily endures.
There is no job too small he won't handle himself.
He has vacuumed the turf at Selland Arena. Helped lay down the synthetic field in the middle of the night. Set up the goal posts. Moved furniture into new offices. He reads the fine print on contracts, makes the extra call to get things right, redesigns tickets if need be.
"If you think just because you're the GM that you can put your feet up on the desk and bark orders, then you're kidding yourself," he says. "I'm fortunate to have the Tribe and strong financial backing. I feel that if they're putting me in charge of a $1 million operation, then I owe them the time, energy and honesty to help them succeed."
Says Fred Sr., "Once he gets his mind set, he zeroes in and goes full-bore."
On the business side, Biletnikoff handles travel arrangements, OKs expenditures, works sponsors, orders supplies, monitors sales, deals with Selland Arena and player insurance matters, and runs cash from merchandise over to the tribe in Lemoore.
This year he got involved in TV commercials, and his "It's a Howling good time!" sign-off on one of them is the butt of office jokes but memorable all the same.
"Fred has his fingers in everything now," says Bryan Whitmore, the team's director of marketing and game day operations, and Biletnikoff's right-hand office man. "I worry a lot that he's working too much. So we all try to take a lot off his plate so he can coach."
One day this week, Biletnikoff spent half the day in meetings and keeping tabs on the business side. At 4:45 p.m., he headed to Selland Arena for the day's practice.
"Ah, the fun begins," he says. "All that stuff I've just dealt with, now I finally get to be on the field hanging out with the guys. That's football."
Quarterback Clay Groefsema says, "I've never seen anybody so passionate about his job."
After returning to the office, it's back to the grind.
In a day, Biletnikoff might meet with his quarterbacks, then his three assistant coaches, make transactions and trades, download film off the Internet and break down games, deal with player agents, and e-mail other coaches for information.
He could ask his assistant coaches to help more, stay later, but that wouldn't feel right. They divvy up the league-mandated $25,000 for coaching staffs and need day jobs to earn livings.
"Get real. When you pay them what we do, no way I can ask them to work the hours I do," the head coach says.
As if his team responsibilities aren't enough, Biletnikoff also is on the AF2's rules and competition committee and a peer review committee.
"Successful guys understand the commitment it takes," says defensive coordinator Derrick Chachere, who played eight years in the AFL. "He's constantly trying to get better.
"Maybe he doesn't sleep. But he gets it done, he's never stressed out and he's always there to give anybody a helping hand."
Future looks bright
Biletnikoff's bosses appreciate the time he puts in. Besides his $50,000 coaching contract with the league, the tribe pays him almost equal to that for his general manager job.
"We know what a great asset he is. He eats, sleeps and drinks Coyotes football," says Kevin Thomas, one of the tribe's six directors. "He's someone with a vision to see it succeed. He's turned around a mediocre team. We've realized the last year and a half he's our man."
Biletnikoff says it's "karma" that he's found comfort in a job that not even the NFL can pry him away from.
"Every year I've been in Fresno, something good has happened," he says, offering his list.
"In 2000, I got divorced but Fresno City went 10-1 and won a league title. In 2001, we won it again, giving me two rings. Next year, I got my master's degree. 2003, we got married; 2004, I was interim head coach; 2005, head coach; last year, general manager; and 2007, Cindy and I brought Katelyn into the family.
"I can't wait to see what's next."
Maybe it's the new arena the tribe plans to build for the team in Lemoore. The blueprints are being drawn up, Thomas says, but it might not get done for three or four more years.
"I sure hope I'm around when it happens," says Biletnikoff, whose contract expires at the end of this season.
"Cindy and I don't plan on leaving the Valley any time soon. We've made our roots here. So if the tribe wants to sign me today through 2010 to help open the new arena, I'd do it in an instant."