Andy Reid's first successful coaching work in Arizona came 37 years ago in Flagstaff

The offensive linemen who gathered in a meeting room at Northern Arizona University’s business college in 1986 won’t defy logic and ask you to believe they knew the new position coach they met that day would go on to accomplish such things as leading the Chiefs to three Super Bowls, including the one Sunday at State Farm Stadium.

Andy Reid was only 27 then, and his mustache was thicker than his resume: one year as a graduate assistant at BYU, his alma mater, and three years as an offensive line coach at San Francisco State.

Reid wanted the job at NAU so desperately that he had stalked head coach Larry Kentera at the Sacramento airport while Kentera was on a recruiting trip.

“He said, ‘Coach, I want this job,” said Kentera, “and he followed me all the way from the gate to baggage claim.”

Thirty-seven years ago, no one in NAU’s program dreamed Reid would have a career worthy of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. But Reid made a great first impression on that day in the room at the business college, where NAU’s football team held its meetings, and a lasting one in his only year in Flagstaff.

How was that possible?

First, “a year in football is a long time,” said Vince Beemiller, a starting tackle that year.

Second,  “He (Reid) is that kind of guy.”

Reid proved quickly that he knew how to teach football, how to motivate and how to relate to people.

That’s why 37 years later, coaches and players from that team have Reid’s phone in their contacts list and don’t hesitate to use it.

“I text Andy and he texts me back within five minutes,” said Dan Moran, who played right guard.

Kentera, a long-time defensive coordinator under Frank Kush, put together incredible offensive staffs at NAU. He hired Brad Childress as offensive coordinator in 1986, and Childress and Reid hit it off quickly, commuting to work each day in a small compact car.

Bill Callahan replaced Reid the next year, and Marty Mornhinweg joined the staff in 1988. All four went on to become NFL head coaches.

Reid became the most successful, and while those who played for him in 1986 would not have predicted his success as a head coach, it doesn’t surprise them, either.

The offensive line had been poorly coached prior to Reid, and the players were starved for teaching. Reid gave it to them beginning with that first day.

“It was refreshing,” said Moran, who was a redshirt senior in 1986. “The first coaching staff I had was old school. We were in a four-point stance. The schemes were antiquated. Then we got an offensive line coach who was put into that position who knew nothing about the offensive line.

“Andy knew it. And you knew from day 1 that he knew it. He came in as fair, but a hard ass.”’

One of Reid’s first moves was to get the offensive line together for an informal workout, one that probably wouldn’t be legal today.

In 1986, “no one was watching,” Moran said, especially at a Division 1-AA school in Flagstaff, Arizona.

“He introduced us to the O-line exercises we had never done before,” Beemiller said. The message, Beemiller said, was that Reid wasn’t going to play around.

For two hours or so, the linemen jumped rope, crab-walked 100 yards, then lunged for 25. Reid had unique names for each exercise. The lunges, for instance, were known as “Chuck Berrys.”

The players had a vague idea of who Berry was. They had a firm idea their new coach meant business.

“Your legs were pretty fried,” Beemiller said.

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'Go have fun'

But Reid was not a screamer. He didn’t demean players. He didn’t swear at them. (Callahan, who came the next year. “He used the ‘F’ word like ‘the,’” Beemiller said.)

There were times, the players said, that Reid would get mad, that his face would redden, but the instruction mostly was centered on what needed to be corrected and how to go about it.

In practices, Reid always carried a handball in his pocket and tossed it to players who batted it back to him. The little drill emphasized the need for a strong punch and soft hands.

The evening before games, Reid always gave his players a “tip sheet” with items they should concentrate on the next day.

The last tip was always “go have fun.”

The players, including backup Frank Pollack, now the Bengals offensive line coach, fell in love with the coach. And vice versa.

“They’re good guys,” Reid said Monday night at the Chiefs’ first media availability of the week. “Real good guys.

“NAU was a great stop. I got to work for Larry Kentera. He’s 98 years old, so you can imagine the wisdom I gained from working there.”

The Lumberjacks went on a surprising run in 1986, finished 7-4 overall and 5-2 in the Big Sky Conference. With freshman quarterback Greg Wyatt, receiver Shawn Collins, who was drafted by the Falcons in the first round in 1989, and a veteran offensive line, the Lumberjacks advanced to the Big Sky Conference championship game against Nevada in Reno, which they lost.

Back then, offensive linemen tailored their own jerseys to be form-fitting, tightening the sleeves and applying double-sided carpet tape to keep their jerseys tight against their shoulder pads.

A Nevada fan gave a muscle-bound Moran grief for it as he warmed up for the game in the end zone. The guy, Moran said, was relentless, and Moran had a reputation back then for being a bit of a hothead.

Moran finally blew up at the guy, and Reid intervened. Reid has this way of pointing, with his pinky and index fingers extended, and he aimed his right arm, his glare and his words at the heckler.

“Hey, big mouth, he didn’t pay to get in here,” Reid said, pointing to Moran with his other hand.

“He always had our backs,” Moran said.

For most assistant coaches, NAU is a rung on a ladder, not a destination. Reid wasn’t going to stay long. He always had an “it” factor, said Chiefs tight ends coach Tom Melvin, who has coached with Reid at San Francisco State, NAU, the Eagles and now with Kansas City, and his stay in Flagstaff was never going to be long-term.

It turned out to be one year before Reid left for UTEP on a journey that would take him to Missouri, to being an assistant to the Packers and then head coaching jobs in the NFL with Philadelphia and Kansas City.

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Reid's four key things

In general, males aren’t particularly adept at cultivating long-term relationships, but Reid and players and coaches from the 1986 teams have remained in close contact. Kentera was a guest at a Chiefs game several years ago, as was Moran.

Another member of that 1996 team had a son die of an opioid overdose. Reid, who had lived through the tragedy of losing his son, Garrett, to a heroin overdose, reached out, recommended a therapist for the family, and offered to pay for however many sessions family members needed.

“Andy will do anything for you,” Moran said.

When Beemiller has needed advice, Reid has been easy to reach.

Several years ago, Beemiller, now the president of Lawyers Title, was asked to take over an underperforming unit in Tucson. He called Reid for guidance.

Concentrate on four things and you’ll be fine, Reid said.

Eliminate distractions.

Create energy.

Fear nothing.

Attack everything.

Those are lessons Reid began to teach in that business school classroom 37 years ago.

“I’ve owned my own business and I’ve led other companies,” said Moran. “I think the organization takes on the personality (of its leader). What Andy has done is nothing short of just being himself. And that’s pretty awesome.”

This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Handballs, Chuck Berry, life lessons filled Andy Reid's year at NAU