Sound and the Fury

Hottle parked his Jeep behind Gallaudet's field house, grabbed the blue binders he'd prepared and went looking for Jimmy DeStefano, the athletic director at the time.

DeStefano came out of his office smiling and put his hand out. He was hard of hearing, not completely deaf. "Hi, Ed," he said. "I'm Jimmy." Hottle shook his hand. Then he held up his hand as if he were under oath and curled his fingers inward. Next he touched all of his fingers except his pinkie to his thumb. "E-D," he signed. "My name is E-D."

DeStefano led Hottle into a room where a few other members of the athletic department -- all deaf -- were waiting, along with Brian Tingley, a 5-foot-11, 255-pound offensive lineman who has a wave crest tattooed like an arm band around his bicep, representing the team. An interpreter sat next to Hottle, with Hottle facing everyone else. He noticed that some individuals wore hearing aids and some didn't. The room was quiet except for the interpreter's voice.

DeStefano explained that the athletic program was in a rebuilding phase. The budget had been stagnant for years, forcing the department to hire part-time coaches. As a result, the football team had suffered. It was losing games by 50 points on occasion. Few guys stayed on the team more than a year. There wasn't anyone to recruit players.

"We want to be D-III again," DeStefano signed. The school withdrew from NCAA Division III football competition in the mid-1990s for reasons having to do with finances, morale and student support. DeStefano has since been removed from the athletic director job. The change came this summer after the NCAA placed the entire Gallaudet athletic program on probation for one year as a result of eligibility violations involving the Bison women's volleyball team.

But in the spring of 2005 the administration had given the athletic department budget a modest boost, and DeStefano expected additional funds to be approved.

When it was time for Hottle to talk, he handed out blue binders he'd carried in. They included information he'd written about his coaching style, how he'd lead an offense and a defense, why education should come before football.

At 34, Hottle's baby face made him seem younger -- if he donned a football jersey, he could be mistaken for an undergrad -- and he talked as if the team would be in military training camp. The players didn't need that, Tingley thought. Previous coaches had failed because they were too strict; players had rebelled and quit.

But DeStefano had a feeling about Hottle. He'd made it clear to Hottle that he'd have to learn sign language, and Hottle appeared to relish the chance. Hottle had more coaching experience than the other candidates. He seemed tough, but, when Hottle talked about his former players, DeStefano sensed a tender streak.

When the offer came, Hottle hesitated. "It is such a different culture," he told Ashley. "What if I can't learn sign language?" What if he couldn't help the team be good enough for D-III? Ashley reminded him that he'd always done whatever he'd set his mind to.

BEFORE HIS FIRST TEAM MEETING, HOTTLE ALREADY HAD BEEN INTRODUCED TO A FEW OF THE PLAYERS. He was unaware that many who had smiled and shook his hand had later complained that he couldn't sign.

Word had spread through the deaf community that Gallaudet had hired a hearing football coach. It wasn't the "hearing" piece that bothered most people. The university had hired other hearing coaches before. The difference was that those individuals could already sign. Lineman Tingley asked quarterback Jason Coleman, "What was the point in playing if we can't even communicate with the coach?"