Vintage Coach Leads a Return to Old Form

So when the Redskins finished 2004 at the bottom of the NFC East standings, Gibbs threw himself into righting things -- particularly the offense, upon which his NFL Hall of Fame credentials had once been earned.

"We had a playoff defense last year, and offensively we were sort of the 10-pound weight around the neck," said veteran offensive lineman Ray Brown. "We held this thing back."

Gibbs assigned each member of his offensive coaching staff specific areas of successful offenses around the league -- the running game of Denver, for example, or the passing game of Indianapolis -- and had them analyze game film, interview coaches and report back to the staff.

He ordered players, regardless of where they made their permanent homes, to report to Redskins Park in Ashburn for offseason workouts, and 97 percent complied. "Because he's done it before -- he's won Super Bowls -- he's a guy that we respect," said Daniels, who had trained in Atlanta for years. "When he said he wanted everybody here, I said, 'Okay. I'm going to be here, then.' "

Gibbs zeroed in on the team's failure to convert third downs. He hired a young quarterbacks coach with fresh ideas. And he culled the roster of players with poor attitudes. In exchange for wide receiver Laveranues Coles, Gibbs found the receiver he had been looking for in Santana Moss of the New York Jets. The trade proved prescient, with Moss breaking Bobby Mitchell's 42-year-old franchise record for receiving yards this season and, in the process, loosening up defenses enough to help running back Clinton Portis to a record year, as well.

Gibbs engineered the deals that brought both playmakers to the team. And the unselfish play of Moss and Portis -- neither shies from the chance to block for a teammate -- embodies what Gibbs insists he's seeking when he combs the draft and free agent market for what he characterizes in the most hallowed tone as "Redskin players."

"You can't weigh a heart," Gibbs said when asked about the challenge of identifying character in a prospect. "You can't see how high it jumps. It's morally, what is this person all about? This is a team sport, and some people can't get away from the individual aspects of life and sacrifice for the team. But those are the key issues in how good a guy is going to be."

That's exactly what made Don Warren such a valuable tight end in his 12 seasons with Gibbs: His huge heart, rather than raw speed or natural ability. And that's why Warren didn't worry too much when Gibbs didn't win immediately.

"I don't care who you are, you're not going to turn an organization around in one year," said Warren, now a scout with the team. "People kept asking me, 'What's the deal?' And I said, 'He's taking this year, and he's catching up on the game. He's looking to get his Redskin players in there that he knows are going to play for four quarters, not two. He's getting his personalities; he's getting his hearts. And then he's going to start winning games.' "

The 2005 roster in place, Gibbs started fine-tuning his playbook to suit his players' strengths -- incorporating the shotgun formation in which the quarterback takes the snap a few yards behind the center, despite longstanding misgivings, because quarterback Mark Brunell felt it helped him see the field better.

He rewarded uncommon effort with reserved parking spaces close to the front door of Redskins Park (surrendering his own space for the cause); upgrades to hotel suites the night before games; and game balls for unsung contributors such as the team's long snapper and athletic training staff.

After losses, Gibbs worked harder. Even when the team's record stood at 5-6, nothing rattled him, according to Joe Bugel, the assistant head coach for offense. "He kept the team very steady," Bugel said. "After the game was over, it was over. He didn't point any fingers. He didn't blame a player. He didn't blame a coach. He didn't blame anybody. His response was, 'Let's just work a little harder.' "