The world according to Mike: he's bold. He's unconventional. And he's not afraid to lose. To understand the team that should win it all, you must understand one-of-a-kind Rams coach Mike Martz

Sporting News, The, Jan 14, 2002 by Paul Attner

This man who controls the NFL playoffs is unlike any other coach in the league. In a profession of too many clones, he is intentionally unconventional, deliberately trend-defying, a welcome breath of fresh energy, a cerebral strategist who can discuss the benefits of Max Q and deep outs with equal ease. He is reserved, almost professorial, yet he is a perfect fit as the ringmaster of the league's most flamboyant show, an all-out offensive assault of great creativity and hyperspeed that is as loud as he is quiet.

His quest to push his mind and his team to the edge has created the overwhelming Super Bowl favorite. Yet his consuming drive to be a coach who isn't hamstrung by the cliches of his profession also has exposed both him and the Rams to a scary possibility--that these audaciously delightful ways will lead to their demise if they can't temper boldness with a timely dose of conservatism.

But, don't you see, in what Mike Martz offhandedly refers to as the World According to Mike, that's no reason to pull back, to compromise. This is all about aggressiveness and risk intelligent risk--without the encumbrances generated by a fear of failure. That's the essence of understanding what is driving this franchise. Its coach no longer is afraid of losing--"it is gone from my life"--and it is that resulting freedom that inspires him. It amazes him that he has become such a scrutinized figure, the most controversial coach in the league. Martz isn't saying he is right and the rest of the NFL is wrong; that's not even an issue for him. He just doesn't feel comfortable coaching according to how it is supposed to be done.

In the World According to Mike, it is all about trusting his players and holding everyone accountable to a standard of excellence. It is a world in which, as he tells his athletes frequently, "It's OK to have fun." It is a world where it's acceptable for his players to be his friends. It is a world in which there is more to him than his mad-scientist image. He is one of sports' nice guys, an upbeat, polished man of depth, good humor, modesty and grace. But there also is a searing, demanding toughness about him that expects nothing short of perfection.

It is a world that has evolved slowly through a frequently turbulent, often testing 29-year coaching career in which he has helped support his family with food stamps and unemployment checks and toilet cleaning, a world that nearly was ended a decade ago when he almost quit coaching after no one would hire him, a world that has included an alcoholic father, a mother enveloped by Alzheimer's disease and the death, at 19, of his oldest brother.

"I feel great for Mike because he is truly one of the good people in coaching," says Steve Fairchild, the Bills' running backs coach and the first college quarterback instructed by Martz. "He has not had a silver-spoon career. He's earned it, and that is justice."

There is nothing imperious about him; he is no Marty Schottenheimer, no Bill Parcells. Sometimes he will say something so strikingly un-coachlike that he admits, "I know that sounds goofy." His players love him in part because they can kid him, and because he can laugh at himself. He's in charge, but this is no dictatorship. So the Rams don't have many rules; it lots were needed, that trust factor, so essential to making all this work, would be destroyed.

"Unlike a lot of coaches," says halfback Marshall Faulk, "he actually wants our opinion. He treats us like adults so we can go out and play like kids. It's like your daddy asking you what time you want to be home and you say 9:30 instead of 9. Well, that puts the onus on you to be home on time." Remarkably, the players have bought into his thinking so fervently that they all but demand he continue his maverick ways.

"He is willing to take the chance, and we want to take it with him," says quarterback Kurt Warner, who has become a major star under his tutelage. "We want people to see us as being different, we want to separate ourselves from the pack. We expect him to hold up his end of the bargain and not handcuff us, but let us do our thing. We also understand we have to live up to our end, too--that if we want him to step out, we have to make it work."

At the very core of this world is his deep conviction that he has been handed a gift--a group of extremely talented players and assistants capable of extraordinary achievements. And his charge is to not waste it, but to nurture it to its fullest. He is a privately spiritual man who studies Scripture weekly in his office with a counselor. Like all of us, he was deeply affected by the horror of September 11, and since then he has formally rededicated his life to Jesus. There is a clarity about his thinking that is kept on course by a prayer he found in a book of devotions. It is taped to his desk, so he read it every day.

It starts, "Give me courage, Lord, to take risks, not the usual ones."

It ends with a simple request: "Keep me from reneging on my choice."

Sometimes Mike and Julie Martz jump into their 2000 Porsche and drive at sunset into the countryside not far from St. Louis. The car is the one extravagance they allowed themselves after the Rams won Super Bowl 34. It is their favorite thing to do--ride in that car, feel the wind against their faces.