Houston's Riley has the life May 08, 2001 BY CLARK JUDGE FOXSports.com Tiger Woods makes millions swinging a golf club. Alex Rodriguez makes millions swinging a bat. Hugh Hefner makes millions swinging, period. It’s nice work if you can find it, but, frankly, I’m not interested. I want the life of Riley. That would be Dan Riley, strength and conditioning coach of the Houston Texans. He’s not making millions, but he has a good job, makes decent money with an organization he likes and is in a city where he plans to retire. But that’s not the best part. The Houston Texans don’t play football until the 2002 season and, as a matter of fact, won’t field a team until next year. That means that when Riley shows up for work each day he strengthens and conditions … You got it: Nobody. “It’s the first time in 29 years I haven’t had athletes to train,” said Riley. I could get used to a job like that, but Dan Riley’s having trouble. The guy loves to work and work out, and these days he’s not working on sculpting players; he’s shaping budgets, checking out weight equipment, working on computers, composing strength manuals, visiting training facilities and putting together instructional videos. “I hate to use the word ‘hectic,’ “ he said, “but I’ve been busy. But it’s not the kind of busy I would like.” Riley would rather train players. He would rather help injured starters recover. He would rather put together workout schedules, obtain results and fine-tune itineraries. In short, he would rather do what he’s done the past 28 years with the Washington Redskins (19 seasons), Penn State (five) and the United States Military Academy (four). At Washington, Riley designed workouts for a team that won three Super Bowls and four NFC titles. He was good at what he did, with Washington’s teams often appearing to grow stronger as the season wore on. Part of that had to do with the players; the Redskins had superior athletes. But part of it had to do with Riley, too. “All I know is that we never had many injuries, and guys loved going in there to work out,” said Vinny Cerrato, Washington’s player personnel director last season. “That’s the sign of a great strength coach.” One of the first to show up for work, Riley routinely worked out at 6 a.m. last year with defensive tackle Dana Stubblefield and tackle Jon Jansen. Later, he would make time to train defensive end Bruce Smith in one-on-one sessions. He tried to be innovative, devising gimmicks such as last year’s Disco Ball -- a workout with the lights off and music barking -- to keep players interested, and it seemed to work. Participation in strength and conditioning programs in and out of season was high. “One time he’d set aside a day where guys would come in and work out in camouflage outfits,” said Raiders secondary coach Ron Lynn, once the Redskins’ defensive coordinator. “It was just Dan’s way of getting those guys going. He understands players, and he works his tail off.” Which is part of his problem now. There are no players to understand and there won’t be for months. So Riley has to find work in other areas, and there’s plenty available in the team’s Web site (Riley is there to answer your questions), at the Houston Astrodome (he is there to inspect the Texans’ weight facility) and in faraway places. Name a college or university in Texas, and Riley probably was there to check out the school’s facilities. He visited the Philadelphia Eagles … Seattle and Detroit, too … and was a regular at numerous conventions touting the latest in weight equipment. “It’s a never-ending search,” he said. “Is this frustrating? Absolutely. My strength in my profession is my interpersonal skills, the ability to deal with 53 different personalities and the expertise to train and motivate people. My strengths are not at a desk or on a computer. But I’m lucky to have this opportunity.” Boy, I’ll say. And while we’re at it I wouldn’t mind trading places with Coach Dom Capers or offensive coordinator Chris Palmer, either. Those guys have a year to devise a game plan. Memo to Houston’s first opponent: Watch out for the hook-and-ladder. Riley passes Capers and Palmer in the hallways at work -- or, at least for what passes as work these days -- and they nod at each other and shake their heads. Each knows what the other is thinking. “All of us keep saying, ‘We’re not doing our jobs,’ which is what we’re good at,” said Riley. “But that’s just the way it is. We just wish we could contribute to the organization using the skills and abilities that we came here to use.” There will be time for that. In the meantime, I have one word for Dan Riley: Relax. Enjoy the year away from football. Take your wife out for some barbecue. Check out NASA. Go shopping at The Galleria. Take a class at Rice. Tour San Jacinto battlefield. Spend a weekend at South Padre Island. Exhale slowly. It’s not always going to be like this. Heck, it never was, and it may never be again. Kick back. Turn on the History Channel. Pick up that book you always meant to read -- may I suggest “War and Peace?” -- and pack it with you on your next trip to Austin. I would if I were the strength and conditioning coach for a team without players. But I’m not. Dan Riley is. There’s a reason players called him “Bee Boy” at Washington, and it wasn’t because he knew how to cut corners. He won’t … he can’t … let up, so more available time only means more time to prepare for next season. Houston, you won’t have a problem. “I’m pretty hyper,” Riley said. “All I know is that I have enough energy stored up that when we finally get started, they’re going to have to put a muzzle on me.” ------------------ "Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."- (Aldous Huxley)
