Bordow: Erickson makes points on and off field

The summer sun was setting over the pines at Camp Tontozona, and Dennis Erickson was hungry. It had been another long day. Two practices, film study, dealing with the media. There would be more work in the night ahead.

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Offensive line coach Gregg Smith sat in a golf cart, waiting to drive Erickson up the hill.

Erickson, however, walked in the other direction, toward four men sitting on the sidelines. They had watched the morning workout before heading out for a round of golf.

“How’d you hit ’em?” Erickson said.

“Not bad,” said one of the men.

The conversation lasted a couple of minutes, Erickson asking about their rounds and the golf course. Finally, he thanked the men for coming, joined Smith and drove toward the cafeteria.

An eavesdropper turned to an ASU official and smiled.

“Can you imagine Dirk Koetter doing that?” he said.

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When Arizona State athletic director Lisa Love hired Erickson in December 2006, her marching orders were clear: She wanted the Sun Devils to be a force in the Pac-10, a program that annually was ranked in the top 25 and played in the Rose Bowl more than once every decade.

But there also was a second directive: Re-connect with an ASU community that had been turned off by Koetter’s brusque nature.

Koetter knew his way around a film room. But he failed to understand that a college football coach has to be a salesman, too. He has to shake hands and say hello and take a moment or two to show fans he appreciates their support.

“I think we were a bother to him,” said Rudy Campbell, a member of the Sun Angel Foundation Board of Directors since 1983. “He was not a public-friendly person.”

In one often-told story, Koetter was speaking at a booster function when an older fan asked why ASU’s cornerbacks didn’t turn their heads to look for the ball as they ran down field.

Koetter humiliated the man with his response, essentially telling him he had no idea what he was talking about.

A coach can get away with having bad manners if he’s winning 10 games every year. But when Koetter went 7-6 in 2006, few voices in the ASU family spoke up in his defense and attendance at Sun Devil Stadium plummeted, dropping to 54,562 per game.

“Fans have to have a stake in their team,” senior associate athletic director Don Bocchi said. “They have to feel like they’re Sun Devils.”

Erickson understands that.

“This is a community’s football team,” he said. “That’s what it’s all about.”

Erickson is not Dave McGinnis, the former Cardinals coach who could sell outdoor advertising space to a shut-in. But he’s friendly and open and he recognizes the value of playing nice with fans and the media.

“You’ve got to do it,” he said. “It’s my responsibility to get out in the community and do as many things as I can.”

Perhaps three moments best define how Erickson has mended the relationships damaged by Koetter:

• In a practice last spring, wide receiver Michael Jones caught a pass at the back corner of the end zone and nearly ran over a group of kids who were sitting on the grass. Erickson ran over to the kids and said, “Was he inbounds or out-of-bounds? If he caught that ball inbounds you’ve got to throw up your arms to signal touchdown.”

• This past March, Erickson spoke to several Rotary groups in Tempe and stayed until every last question was asked.

“I was at a lot of Dirk’s speaking engagements, and he’d be looking at his watch,” Campbell said.

• A week ago, several members of the ASU band attended a workout at the indoor practice facility. Afterward, Erickson made a point to shake their hands and thank them for playing the fight song.

“That went a long way for those people,” Bocchi said. “That’s why we don’t go to Dennis and say, 'You have to do this and this and this.’ He knows what to do.”

Obviously, Erickson’s track record — he won two national championships at Miami and led downtrodden Oregon State to the Fiesta Bowl — did a lot to re-energize the fan base. Going 10-3 in his first season didn’t hurt, either.

But he also has won over fans with simple acts of kindness.

“He makes us feel like he wants us at practice, he wants us at games, he wants us to support the team,” longtime fan Rudy Burgoz said. “That’s the difference between him and Dirk. He’s more personable. He wants to make sure that every fan is involved in the program one way or another.”

Erickson still has to win football games. Fans would turn on Mother Teresa if she went 4-7 every year.

But it doesn’t hurt to make a few friends along the way.