Notorious

Back on the field, Ryan Leaf took the snap and immediately noticed the change in the Angels' defense.

The edge rushers weren't trying to get past his line. They spread out to contain the run, leaving no one coming straight at him.

'There's my chance.'

Leaf tucked the ball and ran. At six-five and roughly 236 pounds, he could hit with something approaching Nolan's force.

He wasn't as agile, and his cuts took longer to develop, but he got across the line of scrimmage and picked up eight yards.

"That's a familiar-looking quarterback run. You think the Dallas fans recognize it? Maybe Callahan isn't the only man who can do that."

On the turf, Leaf heard the crowd roaring.

"That's it," he muttered. His fatigue seemed to vanish as he got up.

On second down, the Angels showed him the same look. Again, no one came after the quarterback.

This time he ran for the first down.

The cheering grew louder. With Nolan back at Texas Stadium, every yard his replacement gained seemed to mean something beyond the game.

"Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!"

"Touchdown! Touchdown!"

Some of the same people who had once shouted Nolan's name were shouting his now.

Leaf could almost see everything Nolan had waiting for him instead.

"Sixth pick," he muttered. "I'm not worse than you."

He had been a Heisman finalist during Nolan's injury-shortened junior season. Ricky Williams had won, but Leaf had explained that away in his own mind: Williams must have been taking too much of that chemical stuff. As far as he was concerned, he hadn't really lost.

Dallas was a little more than thirty yards from the end zone. Campo let Leaf keep going rather than send out the field-goal unit.

On the next snap, Leaf tucked the ball under one arm and went through the same opening. This time, defenders were waiting.

His first carry of the new series ended there.

Not far away, Champ Bailey watched and shook his head, amused.

Before the next play, he spoke up in the defensive huddle.

"I can handle their quarterback by myself."

"You're supposed to cover the receiver," the safety told him.

Bailey grinned and said nothing.

When the ball was snapped, he ignored the receiver who should have taken him downfield. Instead, he broke hard toward the line.

Campo stared. Across the field, Reid, Holmgren, Rhodes, and even Nolan froze for a moment.

"What the hell is he doing?" Reid shouted.

Leaf was too intent on copying Nolan to notice the corner abandoning his assignment. A deep pass would have given Dallas an easy touchdown.

He had barely crossed the line of scrimmage when a white jersey came at him fast.

Bailey's combine speed was no illusion. Nolan remembered what that talent would become: twelve Pro Bowls, a place on the NFL's All-Decade Team for the 2000s, and the league lead in interceptions in 2006. Like Edgerrin James, he had a Hall of Fame career ahead of him.

He would never win a Super Bowl, despite the name everyone knew him by: Champ.

Leaf had no time to react before Bailey knocked him flat.

The stadium fell quiet.

"You want to run it in like Callahan?" Bailey looked down at him, a faint smile on his face.

"You've got a long way to go."

His moment didn't last. Reid's furious shout reached him from the sideline, and Bailey went straight back to his assignment.

Ignoring a coach's call was serious. He was fortunate his gamble hadn't cost them a touchdown; otherwise, there would have been more to answer for than a sideline dressing-down.

Leaf got up furious. Bailey's smile only made it worse.

"One hit and he's down. Callahan would've stayed up."

"He had a man open. Why didn't he throw?"

"Because he wants to do everything himself."

The fans were turning on him. Anyone who had briefly wondered whether Nolan was replaceable had just received an answer.

"Don't let it get to you. It's only second down." Emmitt Smith helped Leaf up, reading his expression.

"I don't need you telling me what to do." Leaf pulled his arm away.

On third down, at least, he didn't immediately take off. He had three choices.

Run it himself, hand it to Smith, or throw.

Smith had room. Giving him the ball would have been a reasonable decision, but Leaf looked past him toward a receiver downfield and let it go.

He was trying to reproduce one of Nolan's connections. The ball followed a similar path, but neither its speed nor its placement was close. Worse, everyone could see where he intended to throw.

A white jersey cut in front of the receiver and took the ball away.

"Bailey again! He's intercepted Ryan Leaf!"

Bailey landed and ran. Despair spread through the Dallas crowd.

He didn't reach the end zone, but the interception had done enough damage.

As he celebrated with his teammates, the Cowboys fans began shouting at their quarterback.

"What kind of decision was that? How do you even compare him to Callahan?"

"He's garbage!"

Leaf heard them on his way off the field and curled his lip.

'What do any of you know about football?'

When he came close enough, plastic bottles started raining out of the stands.

One landed at his feet. He picked it up and hurled it back into the crowd.

The boos grew deafening.

Every quarterback made mistakes, Nolan included. How Leaf handled his mistakes was another difference entirely.

"It worked," Nolan said, letting out a breath.

Reid's adjustment had given them the chance they needed. The defense had done its job; now the offense had to finish the game.

There was still plenty of time. Bailey's return had brought the ball close to midfield, too.

Nolan controlled the pace, mixing short throws with short runs and making Dallas defend each new set of downs. Nine plays carried the Angels to the Cowboys' twenty.

Then he found his tight end with one of his familiar elevator throws for a touchdown.

The more advanced falling-leaf throw was still available to him, but its path and speed limited its usefulness in a game. That was true for other quarterbacks as well. It needed more work.

Leaf offered little in the time that remained.

Without Smith's running, Dallas wouldn't even have managed its field goal.

Whatever the final score, the contrast between the two quarterbacks had become impossible to miss.

Nolan hadn't needed a spectacular afternoon. He had simply avoided the mistakes Leaf kept making.

Playing in the same game made the comparison particularly cruel.

"Nobody's replacing him."

"They never should've let him leave."

"Why shouldn't he have left? Didn't he deserve better?"

Even some Cowboys fans were beginning to understand his decision. They wanted him to succeed, and the Angels no longer looked quite so much like an enemy. Some would keep watching them after today.

Late in the fourth quarter, Nolan moved the ball close enough for Richie Cunningham to kick another field goal.

The final score was 20-13. The Angels had gone into the defending Super Bowl champions' stadium and won their opener.

Nolan knew they had been fortunate. Leaf had given them more chances than they had any right to expect.

After the game, he caught the Joneses before they could leave and went over to talk.

"Congratulations, Nolan. You've put together a competitive team in a very short time." Jerry's smile never reached his eyes.

"I should be thanking you. If you hadn't brought Leaf to Dallas, who knows how this would've ended?"

Jerry's face tightened. After a moment, he turned away with a snort.

"Long season," Stephen muttered before following his father.

The next morning, Rachel sat in the coffee shop beneath her apartment building.

In street clothes, she stirred her coffee and waited for someone.

The door opened. She looked up and realized she had been tricked.

"I should've known. Kelsey wouldn't be coming back already."

Nolan sat opposite her.

He had asked Kelsey to arrange the meeting for a simple reason, but Rachel stopped him before he could explain it.

"If you want to catch up, we can sit here for hours. If it's anything else, don't bother." She took a sip, leaving a little foam on her upper lip.

Kelsey had already tried and failed. Sending Nolan didn't change her answer. She thought Kelsey was lucky, and she might even have envied her a little, but that didn't mean she wanted to move to Los Angeles.

He had thought coming in person would show how serious he was. Only after she refused again did he learn that her family lived here. She didn't want to leave her parents.

"Besides, I like Dallas. I don't have a reason to go."

Nolan let it drop and asked how things were at the DCC.

"You're off-limits. The squad, the club, everybody. Nobody's supposed to mention you."

Jerry had made a thorough job of that.

"Charlotte's the only one who ignores it. She's still the same, though we don't see her in the DCC offices as much."

The days passed. The Angels couldn't repeat their opening upset.

Denver beat them 26-9 in Week 2, then Oakland won 17-10 in Week 3. Both were division opponents.

In Week 4, they faced Drew Bledsoe's Patriots and lost 19-7.

Oddly, the criticism eased with each defeat. The Angels weren't ready to beat those teams yet, but fans and reporters could see them improving.

James was quicker through his cuts. Desmond Clark's added weight made him harder to move, and Donald Driver was filling out too. After repeated instruction from the coaches and Nolan, Bailey had finally learned to stay with the call.

More coaches arrived on the three senior coaches' recommendations, and the rest of the staff fell into place. With the board's approval, Michael Ovitz formally named Nolan president and chief executive officer, recognizing his work in building the club. Apart from the occasional request for more money when the budget ran over, operations were going smoothly.

Three straight losses didn't leave Nolan especially discouraged. Seeing Dallas do worse helped.

Nobody would have predicted before the season that the defending champions would start 0-4, with losses to the Angels, Cardinals, and Eagles among them.

Leaf's mistakes had cost the Cowboys several games they might have won.

Criticism came from every direction. Some fans had even started a campaign to bring Nolan home.

One night, in the parking lot outside the Cowboys' facility, Leaf searched for his car keys.

"Bring Callahan home? What the hell am I supposed to do if he comes back?" A bottle hung from his other hand. He swayed as he searched his pockets, his face flushed and his eyes unfocused. "Goddamn Texas hicks."

He still couldn't find the keys.

"Fuck!" He smashed the window with his elbow, opened the door, and reached into the glove compartment for a packet of powder.

He took some.

Then he leaned back, smiling vacantly.

Through the windshield, he saw a familiar blond woman walk past.

Leaf's expression changed. He leaned forward and hit the horn twice.