The lighter side

By Mike Sando

The News Tribune

Aug. 1, 1999

You have seen him on the sideline, tall and strong and dignified. You have heard him speak with a depth and candor not always associated with the brutal game he coaches.

But have you heard Mike Holmgren's Ricky Nelson impersonation?

"It's hysterical," Billy Jamison assures. "Command performance every time."

This is the Holmgren you never knew existed. The real Holmgren.

"Funny as can be," says Jamison, Holmgren's friend since childhood. "He does a great Ricky Nelson and a great Dick Button. Have him do Dick Button.

"And then Ricky Nelson from Rio Bravo. Ward Bond's character is the trail boss, Wheeler, and the bad guy is Killum. Ricky Nelson is the gunfighter and he says to the John Wayne character, `I'm going to get the man who got Wheeler.'

"Great stuff."

* * *

What could be more improbable than serious, distinguished Mike Holmgren - the Seattle Seahawks' executive vice president, general manager and head coach - impersonating Ricky Nelson?

How about serious, distinguished Mike Holmgren slicking back his locks while playing the role of "Manifold Mike" as he sings "Puppy Love" in a band that bills itself as, "Big Bop and the Choppers?"

Hey, the photo doesn't lie.

"The band started in 1973, two years before Mike got there," says Phil Stearns, who hired Holmgren to be his offensive coordinator and backup vocalist at Oak Grove High School in San Jose, Calif. "We had a very large school and they had a faculty talent show. We just on a lark decided to put together two or three songs and do it live."

Stearns had been a music major at one time; he had a knack for bass guitar and trombone. One assistant coach had played the keyboard, another the drums.

And Holmgren?

"Well, the standing joke was that you had to sing or play an instrument to coach at Oak Grove," Stearns says, "so he kiddingly said, `Well, you know, I was a tenor in the church choir.'

"He was actually a little shy in that regard. The guy didn't smoke, and he'd go through a pack of cigarettes before a concert. But yeah, he had a pretty good voice."

With hair slicked back and crescent wrench swinging from his waist, Manifold Mike could not be stopped.

Puppy Love. Venus. Put Your Head On My Shoulder. Holmgren sang them all.

"I would laugh the whole concert,'' says former Oak Grove quarterback Marty Mornhinweg, now offensive coordinator for the San Francisco 49ers. "They would bring out the Harleys at the start of the show and really get it going.

"They would roll around on the ground and dance - quite a thrill for high school kids to see their coaches like that."

* * *

Those close to Holmgren describe his brand of humor as subtle and even sarcastic. Often, it's instructive as well.

"He had a unique way of getting his point across," Mornhinweg says. "He can grab you and talk to you for about two minutes and he can make you think that you are the greatest player ever and that the team needs you to win this next game.

"And almost always there is a little bit of humor involved. And so you can walk away laughing, but he made a big, big point."

* * *

Mike Hallinan tells the story of an encounter at the Packers-49ers playoff game in January. Holmgren was coaching the Packers and Hallinan, who played football under Holmgren at Sacred Heart High School, had managed to secure a sideline pass.

"This was 40 minutes before kickoff," Hallinan says. "He asked me how I was doing and I told him I had just had a son."

Holmgren, privately noting Hallinan's Irish heritage, saw an opening and set the trap.

"He was telling us things about the game, that he had several guys hurt and he didn't know how it was going to end up," Hallinan says. "Then he breaks into this Irish accent and he goes, `Ooohh, is his name Mik-ell Hannell'n?'

"I just started laughing. And I could tell it wasn't nerves. It was just him being him."

* * *

Twenty-eight years ago, when Mike Holmgren was merely an ex-jock, he spent eight weeks in Hawaii. It was hardly a vacation.

Enlisted to install a ship deck as part of his summer job with the Specialty Surfacing Company, Holmgren was practically counting down the minutes until the project's completion.

Rain was a persistent problem and one day the group decided to pass the time by trying something new: body surfing.

"And body surfing is not something that three or four kids from the mainland can pick up in an hour," notes Skip Farina, Holmgren's former fraternity brother and fellow ship deck laborer. "But we knew we needed swim fins."

One problem: Holmgren needed size 14 fins.

"We ultimately stopped at a big Longs' drug store and we find this pair that fits, but they're expensive," Farina says. "So he begrudgingly buys these fins.

"We go out to Sandy Beach, catch about two waves and Mike gets thrown ass-over-tea kettle and winds up with a concussion. Gets knocked out.

"He's sitting on the edge of this beach with one swim fin on. And he doesn't know where he is."

Dazed, confused and utterly disoriented, Holmgren was taken to the nearest hospital. He had a concussion, the doctor said, and needed rest.

"A couple hours later, we're recanting the story to him," Farina says. "Don't you remember, Mike? We drove out and you spent $35 on a pair of swim fins.

"And you know how goofy you get when you have a concussion. Well, he sits up suddenly and he goes, `I spent $35 on fins? Are they nice fins?' "And that's still his sense of humor. That little zinger has always been there. And that's right from his father."