Personally I don’t give a s—, but coach should’ve refrained from interview profanity

If you know me, you know my language can be pretty salty. Over the years, though, I’ve learned for the most part to keep my cussing to the proper environments and for the proper audiences. And I apologize for any collateral damage the various F and other bombs I’ve dropped over the years have done to sensitive ears. Most of all, I’m sorry to my mother who didn’t raise me to be so foul-mouthed.

When Norm Chow used the “s” word in response to my polite-as-possible question about his job status as University of Hawaii coach after last night’s 58-7 loss, I wasn’t personally offended. Actually, “That s— gets old” might have been exactly how I would have responded. I understand frustration.

But I also understand that anyone receiving a $550,000 annual salary derived from state resources is supposed to express him or herself in a professional manner when dealing with media, on-the-record, tape recorders running.

Now, there may be a few holdouts remaining who think it’s good for a coach to show some fire when dealing with reporters — and maybe even a few who think we shouldn’t ask a football coach about his job minutes after his team’s sixth loss in a row and 36th in four seasons (that’s an average of 9 a season, and there are four games left to play on the current schedule).

There might even be some who think drawing an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty might help get his team’s attention and make them play better. You know, like the way baseball managers get themselves tossed for arguing with umpires, or basketball players intentionally get technical fouls. It shows that the coach has your back, or so goes the theory.

But, like swearing, it’s all about time and place. As many of you know, that unsportsmanlike conduct penalty against Chow came at a very inopportune time — with Nevada kicking off from midfield because of another penalty. It moved the ball up to the Hawaii 35, and made dribbling an onside kick a no-risk opportunity. The Wolf Pack recovered, and kicked a field goal in the waning moments of the first half. It totally turned the momentum of a game Hawaii had been dominating most of the first half, and UH eventually lost 30-20.

There was no momentum shift last night against Air Force. This is not a great Falcons team, but it kicked butt from the beginning of the game to the end, with Keelan Ewaliko’s TD on a kickoff return one of its few lapses.

Military academy teams always play with togetherness and full effort — things we can now say are lacking for UH. There is an opposite synergy effect with this team. The players are physically talented enough to compete. But the various players and units do not put each other in position to succeed. Some used energy they should have used against their opponents on each other at halftime, two team leaders scuffling out of frustration.

In local parlance, many other players seem to have reached the point of “kill fight” — which means, why should I put out maximum effort? Nothing good results from it.

Not every player suffers from this. Many still play with pride. But maintaining motivation will be even more challenging now, since playing for a winning season is no longer on the table.

The team is hampered by a head coach who does not react well in crisis. Responding inappropriately to media questions (he did something similar, minus the profanity, when asked by HNN’s Taryn Hatcher during the official post game press conference) is just one example. Others include the above cited antagonizing of game officials, faulty clock management and in-game, on-field run-ins with assistant coaches. (Special teams coach Chris Demarest last year, linebackers coach Kurt Gouveia this season.)

Yes, much of this can be attributed to “heat of the battle” and “creative tension.” But when the results are as bad as they are, it just becomes poor conduct unbecoming a high-profile, extremely well-compensated (through public resources) leader not acting like one.

Some players and assistant coaches will remain loyal to the end. That’s admirable, in a sense. But it’s also very understandable that some observing and exposed to this behavior time-after-time don’t want to be led any longer by Norm Chow.

It is 11 a.m. Sunday as I post this, and many of us are anticipating that coach Chow may be fired today, or reassigned, or come to a “mutual agreement” or be allowed to resign as University of Hawaii football coach.

However it’s framed, something’s got to happen now. What happened last night at a three-quarters empty Aloha Stadium is exactly why I advised it be done after the two recent road losses.

I truly hope the move is made today, so that the team can get out from under this huge cloud of negativity, regroup, re-energize and play together and hard these last four games. And today, so the new interim head coach (defensive coordinator Tom Mason is my semi-educated guess) can get this team ready for its final road game, at UNLV on Saturday. It’s asking a lot of Mason, but he’s proven he can do it, serving the role at SMU last year, when June Jones resigned abruptly (a perfect example of what some people who don’t know what irony means would mistakenly call irony).

Despite my run-ins with Chow, I still respect him as an educator who has helped improve the football team’s academics. And he was one of the best offensive coordinators of all-time. Regardless of how “local” or “unlocal” people perceive him to be, whether his home is here or in California, he is still keiki o ka aina and kanaka maoli; that never changes.

That’s part of why this is sad. Despite the red flags of being fired from recent jobs, he was the prodigal son — finally getting his chance to run his own program. And in his home state.

But it is abundantly clear now he was not suited for this job from the beginning. (It was clear last year, some will say two years ago or from the very beginning.) UH president David Lassner, Manoa chancellor Robert Bley-Vroman and athletic director David Matlin must surely see this and act upon it. Two weeks ago, UH let word out about a fund that exists to deal with mistakes. Assuming it wasn’t completely drained by the Gib Arnold contract craziness, use money from there to pay for Chow’s buyout … better yet, hash out something where all parties can part ways with at least some dignity.

And, if Norm Chow or any other coach wants to use profanity with me, they are more than welcome to do so. This wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last. But you just might want to just save it for the locker room, or at least make sure you’re off-the-record.

Heck, I might even swear back at you.