No game plan in NFL history was hotter.
To kindle his team for its 2002 opener in steamy Miami, former Detroit coach Marty Mornhinweg warmed the Lions’ practice bubble to 93.5 degrees, preached about wonders of watery fruits, warned against the evils of caffeine and enlisted an old college professor to study South Florida’s weather.
“I dug into it,” recalls Mornhinweg, now Philadelphia’s assistant head coach. “It was all to give my team a chance to win.”
His team got scalded, 49-21.
Welcome back to Florida, Broncos.
Three weeks ago, the Dolphins hung 27 points and two IV bags on the Denver defense that fell into a tropical depression as the mercury hit 89 degrees and the humidity topped 60 percent. Today, forecasters are predicting nearly identical conditions in Jacksonville.
Like Colorado’s thin air, Florida’s sticky climate offers its three NFL teams an organic edge. Coaches – including the Jaguars’ Jack Del Rio – count on their home-field heat to wilt cold-weather visitors. They often force incoming teams to wear dark jerseys to better absorb solar rays. What’s more, after months of workouts in the local steam, they say their players are primed to survive four quarters of heavy sweat. In thin blood they trust.
“Sure, it helps us,” says the Jaguars’ head trainer Mike Ryan. “This is the Sunshine State. That sunshine has some kick.”
And Mother Nature is not easily punk’d by clever, cold-weather coaches.
In the first week of the season, Broncos coach Mike Shanahan brought his players to Miami on Friday – one day earlier than normal – so they could practice in the heat and perhaps dent the Dolphins’ recent 20-3 home record in August and September. Shanahan tried the same tactic last year when Denver visited Jacksonville. His team lost both games. They were scheduled to arrive Saturday for today’s game against the Jaguars.
“Coming in Friday might help with the shock and awe of the heat, but the physical body can’t regulate itself in 24 hours,” Ryan says.
That transformation takes at least five to seven days to take root and about two weeks to complete, says Randy Wilber, a senior sports physiologist with the U.S. Olympic Committee.
Wilber calls the Friday-arrival ploy “counterproductive” because physical activity saps the players’ energy and leaves them tired on Sunday.
“The better strategy is you arrive (Saturday). You play in that hot, humid environment. You do the very best you can to stay cool and stay hydrated, and hopefully your defense isn’t on the field all day long like the Broncos were in Miami,” Wilber says.
And the coolest plan of all: Hit town seven to 14 days before you have to compete. In the summer of 2004, Olympic swimmers and track athletes flew to the Mediterranean weeks before the Athens Games to gear their bodies for the Greek heat. In the NFL, that’s possible only for the season opener, bye weeks and the Super Bowl.
“Either do it full-bore or you don’t do it at all,” says Mornhinweg, whose experiment for the 2002 opener didn’t produce a win, but did prevent his players from suffering any heat-related distress. “If you do it halfway, it’s just a distraction for the players.”
The body adapts slowly. During the first week in a sultry environment, a hormonal shift produces more blood plasma – the fluid portion of the blood. Just like Grandma used to say, your blood really does get thinner.
“In layman’s terms, you’re adding more coolant to the radiator,” Wilber says.
After the second week, perspiration patterns change. People begin to sweat on more skin areas than normal, allowing more evaporation and more cooling to occur.
Meanwhile, their perspiration grows less salty as their bodies cling to that precious chemical compound.
The more salt you lose, the more your muscles tend to cramp. That’s why NFL trainers often hook dehydrated players to intravenous drips of saline solution. During the Miami meltdown Sept. 11, Denver defensive backs Lenny Walls and Darrent Williams required IVs to replenish fluids. But for other Broncos raised in Florida, that sizzling, thick air was just a taste of home.
“I love the heat,” says Trevor Pryce, who is from Winter Park, Fla. “It helps me a little more because the humidity and heat loosen my muscles.”
“We should be better this time,” said Williams, speaking minutes after Denver’s Monday night win over Kansas City. “I know I am. I’m going to drink plenty of Gatorade.”
That’s a vital fuel in today’s NFL: Gatorade and, of course, IV drips. But a generation ago, players swallowed salt pills and quinine to stave off muscle cramps. In winter months, they didn’t practice in heated bubbles. In late summer months, sidelines didn’t come equipped with misters to soothe sweaty players with chilly breezes.
All those modern tricks may have turned today’s NFL players a tad softer, perhaps less equipped to deal with the heat, some retirees say.
“When we got off the field, we put our feet in ice buckets,” says Dick Anderson, a University of Colorado graduate who played defensive back for the Miami Dolphins from 1968 to 1977. “We didn’t even have water breaks. In those days, they thought it was the wrong thing to do.
“I never sat in front of a fan because I figured, if you cool off, you just have to go back in there and get hot again,” Anderson says.
“I think you take a certain pride if you have an advantage like that – even though it’s absolutely miserable for both teams.”
No relief
* Jacksonville, Fla., forecast for today: high 83 F, 80% humidity
* Denver’s forecast: high 80 F, 26% humidity
* Sept. 11 highs in Miami: 89 F, 64% humidity
Staff writer Bill Briggs can be reached at 303-820-1720 or bbriggs@denverpost.com.
