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Wednesday, Sep. 09, 2009

James Burns: Getting a handle on the game

Lisa Coelho wasn't the kind of kid who cut the heads off Barbie Dolls or crashed tea parties.

But that doesn't mean she wore pigtails and bows, either.

"I wasn't the Barbie Doll type," Coelho said with a "not in a million years" kind of laugh.

She was both Princess and Pirate, Daddy's Odd Little Girl. She loved football, not for the cheerleaders, but for its violence and grace: the hits over the middle and the blocking schemes; blood in a mouthpiece, water-bucket showers.

Still does, too.

Her favorite moments as a child were Sunday afternoons in front an old RCA television, watching Oakland Raiders games with her father.

She'd go bonkers if an official blew a call and absolutely berserk if her Raiders lost a game.

"I think it drove my mother crazy," said Coelho, whose love affair with the Raiders included posters of Lyle Alzado and statistics pinned on her bedroom wall.

Her father wasn't much of talker or an extrovert, unless he was hanging out with his daughter, feet up in recliner.

"I think he loved that I loved it so much," Coelho said. "I'd be screaming at the television, 'What kind of call was that?'"

Football consumed her childhood. And eventually her adult life, too.

Around 2000, after years of photographing the NFL for Mid-Valley Publications, the Raiders created a contractual position for Coelho.

"I struggled so much in the NFL as a woman," Coelho said. "I had to fly on separate planes from the team. I stayed in separate hotels and ate at separate restaurants. The team would leave one day, and I'd have to leave the next.

"Those were Al Davis' rules. I got along great with him. We had a great working relationships, but those were his rules.

"I was the first woman in that position, and they didn't know what to do with me."

The disconnect was greater than that between franchise and female photographer.

Coelho learned that most women, even those close to the game, had a hard time understanding the intricacies and nuances of football.

She got it, but others didn't. Coelho could tell you the height and weight of every Raider rookie during her tenure, what John Madden and Fred Biletnikoff liked for lunch and what type of play to call on third-and-long.

She had been in the locker rooms, in training camp, on the road and on the field with the team, and she wanted to share more than just her photographs with her football sisters.

Those still in the dark.

Those that played with Barbie Dolls -- not footballs -- growing up.

"A lot of women don't get the basics. What is a holding call? What position is guard or center? What does 'first down' mean? Many of the women out there don't know these things," Coelho said, "and I wanted to educate them."

Coelho, now a local photographer and full-time team mom, recently hosted "Football 101" inside the Golden Valley theatre.

The workshop is a fundraising effort for the GV football program, with a unique twist: the workshop is for women only -- sisters, mothers, aunts and grandmothers.

"They don't understand the game and the camaraderie and the leadership skills," Coelho said. "They don't realize their kids are learning to be better people."

Guests were treated to a 30-minute video presentation by future NFL Hall of Fame full back Lorenzo Neal and Cal Poly head football coach Tim Walsh.

GV players answered questions from the crowd, and local referee Doug Bondi explained the rules of the game.

All the while, Coelho could see walls crumbling, interest piquing.

"I thought the presentation was so motivational," said Jan Ivy, grandmother of GV quarterback Tyler Arnsberg.

"It really spoke to me. It's cleared up some questions I've always had. I have two grandsons who played and my son played, so I go to games all the time, but there were always a lot of basic things I didn't understand."

Women asked questions without fear of being judged or razzed or laughed out of the building by their husbands, fathers and sons.

No cheese puffs were tossed in their direction. No one asked them for a beer or soda or another slice of pizza.

"I could ask whatever," Golden Valley bookkeeper Dee Stewart told Coelho.

"To me, it comes from the heart. I have such a soft spot in my heart for the kids," Coelho said. "A lot of these parents aren't involved, so I wanted to do my best to bring to light what they do. I want the parents to understand what they go through."

Things Daddy's Odd Little Girl has known for years.

James Burns is sports editor of the Sun-Star. He can be reached at jburns@mercedsun-star.com.