SOLO shot

Sporting News, The, July 30, 2001 by Scott Pitoniak

Rob Johnson has stepped out of Doug Flutie's shadow and into the driver's seat in Buffalo. But now he must prove the Bills picked the right guy.

Practice has been over for hours, and all of the players are long gone. All, that is, except Rob Johnson. The Bills' quarterback is holed up in an assistant coach's office studying tapes of Joe Montana and Brett Favre running the West Coast offense that Buffalo will use this season.

Near midnight, Bills coach Gregg Williams, a workaholic bent on squeezing 25 hours from each day, flicks off his office lights and starts heading out of the team's training complex when he notices that Johnson is still at it, reviewing more film than Roger Ebert.

"Rob, go home," Williams implores. "You're wearing out us coaches. You're making us look like slackers."

Johnson smiles. "Just a few more minutes, Coach," he says, his sleep-deprived eyes burning as red as a Bills helmet. "Just a few more minutes."

The Rob Johnson era officially resumes this week at the Bills' training camp at St. John Fisher College in Pittsford, N.Y. And the quarterback who was supposed to be the second coming of Jim Kelly, not Todd Collins, continues cramming for a makeup exam that will determine his future in Buffalo and, perhaps, the NFL. Through fragments of three injury-riddled seasons with the Bills, the mobile, strong-armed Johnson has shown flashes of brilliance and the durability of a China doll. He has yet to carry a team over the long haul, and many wonder if he ever will. The jury is still out on whether Johnson is the real deal or merely a great athlete who lacks the intangibles to succeed as an NFL quarterback.

"I've put together short stretches," says Johnson, who has the lowest interception percentage and the highest sack rate in Bills history. "But I realize that until I do it for 16 games, rather than just in two- or three-game spurts, there's going to be doubt."

Especially among those angry fans who believe the new regime of Williams and general manager Tom Donahoe erred by dumping the shorter, older but more magical Doug Flutie in favor of Johnson. Critics cite Flutie's 21-9 record as a Bills starter compared to Johnson's 8-10 mark. They point out how the glass-jawed Johnson has been knocked out of nearly half of his NFL starts, and was sacked about once every seven times he dropped back to pass last season. They grumble that the Bills have yet to realize a return on Johnson, who was acquired from Jacksonville in February 1998 for first- and fourth-round draft picks--a steep price for a quarterback who had just one NFL start in three seasons before shuffling off to Buffalo.

"I understand it's a make-or-break year for me and for the Bills" says Johnson, who turned 28 in March. "I have a lot to prove."

Virtually everyone has noticed a difference in Johnson. He appears happier, more outgoing, more at ease with teammates, coaches, fans and reporters. For the first time since coming to Buffalo, he seems at peace with himself.

"He's the man now" says Ruben Brown, the Bills' four-time Pro Bowl guard. "He's got the keys to the car, and he doesn't have to worry about someone taking them away. He's no longer worrying about winning the job; he's focused on doing the job."

Williams, who handed him the keys, is confident Johnson will drive the team into the playoffs instead of into the ground.

"Each day since I became coach here, I've seen, and his teammates have seen, a more confident, more fun-loving Rob" says Williams. "You see a guy in complete command when he's in the huddle. He's had a swagger about him that you want in your quarterback."

There was a stagger rather than a swagger about Johnson in recent years. Dwarfed by the legend of the 5-10 Flutie, and hampered by a matador-like offensive line and a rash of injuries that included a bum throwing elbow, a concussion, a hip pointer and bruised ribs, Johnson ended the 2000 season in a deep, dark funk.

"Doug ended the season on a high note, and I had the two worst games of my career, so I figured my days in Buffalo were numbered," he says.

When the highly respected Donahoe was hired to replace the departed John Butler as G.M., Johnson was certain his fate was sealed. He was aware that Donahoe, while working for ESPN.com last season, indicated that sticking with Flutie was a no-brainer. But after conducting an exhaustive, monthlong investigation of the quarterback situation that included more than 50 interviews within the Buffalo organization and around the league, Donahoe concurred with Williams that Johnson deserved the job.

It's no secret that Johnson and Flutie--now the starting quarterback in San Diego--weren't bosom buddies, and that the quarterback controversy tore Bills Nation asunder. Players, coaches and fans all took sides in a race as divisive as Bush-Gore.

"I don't hate Doug," says Johnson, "but from Day One we just didn't mesh. You couldn't find two more different people. There was tension because we were both very competitive and we both badly wanted the starting job. It got so that when I was out there I was looking over my shoulder any time I struggled, and I'm sure he felt the same way. You can't play quarterback that way. I think both of us are glad to be out of each other's shadow, and I think the team is glad it's over, too"