Grant Cohn: 49ers' Chip Kelly keeps cool when maybe a little heat would be better

SANTA CLARA - Two days after getting crushed 45-16 in Buffalo on Oct. 16, the 49ers practiced in silence - the part of practice open to the media.

The only people on the field who spoke above a whisper were running backs coach Tom Rathman and special teams coach Derius Swinton II. When those two didn't talk, practice felt like a funeral.

Offensive coordinator Curtis Modkins stood by himself with his hands in his pockets. He seemed lost. Most of the players breezed through stretches and warmups like they were in P.E. class and their teacher wasn't watching them.

That's because the man in charge of practice wasn't watching them. Chip Kelly spent the first 20 minutes talking to Phil Dawson, the kicker. Kelly didn't even pretend to watch the other players. He turned his back on them and gave his undivided attention to the kicker. Kelly and Dawson smiled and laughed as they discussed whatever they were discussing - they seemed to enjoy their conversation very much. This conversation set the tone for practice.

Five days later, the 49ers got embarrassed 34-17 at home. Their sixth loss in a row.

When I think back on that Tuesday practice, I wonder how Jim Harbaugh would have handled it. I can't say for sure - he never lost more than two games in a row with the Niners until his final month coaching the team when he lost four in a row and emotionally was already out of Santa Clara. But I'm fairly certain he would not have spent 20 minutes smiling and bantering with the kicker.

Harbaugh probably would have been in a rage, more of a rage than usual. He probably would have looked for a fight. And if he saw a player laughing, Harbaugh almost certainly would have humiliated him and thrown him out of practice. I saw him do it.

“What part of losing is funny to you?!” Harbaugh would have shrieked in someone's face as they stood nose to nose.

Bill Walsh would have been out of his skull as well if he had been coaching that Tuesday practice. His hands would have been shaking. He would have torn into his assistant coaches so the players would have felt guilty and practiced harder.

And if Walsh saw a player laughing or not giving his full effort during a long losing streak, Walsh might have kicked him off the team.

“Get him out of here,” Walsh would have yelled to an assistant coach. “Put him on a plane. Better yet, put him on a bus.” That was one of Walsh's favorite lines.

Walsh was maniacal about winning. Didn't merely like winning. Needed to win to feel good about himself. Felt his identity as a good head coach and a good person constantly were contingent on his record. If his record was bad, he would second-guess his entire life.

His first season with the 49ers, the year he lost 14 games, he would call Al Davis and ask, “Why did I leave Stanford? Why did I take this job?”

A few times after losing games - even after Walsh had won Super Bowls - he would sink so deeply into depression he would quit his job and disappear to Napa, and Eddie DeBartolo Jr. would have to track him down and convince him to continue coaching the team.

I don't think Harbaugh experiences self-doubt like that. But he is just as maniacal about winning as Walsh was. Harbaugh has a rage to win like we've never seen. He's Mike Ditka times a thousand. That's why Harbaugh screams at officials all game and argues every little call even when he's winning by 40 points during the fourth quarter. He has no sense of proportion, no ability to curb his passion for football, a game of passion and motivation.

When does Kelly express his passion for football? When does he express his rage over losing? Kelly seems oddly detached from this embarrassment of a season, as if it doesn't reflect on him. As if he was born with the essence of a good coach, and nothing that happens this season can change his true nature.

This Monday at his press conference, I asked Kelly about his response to losing six games in a row. “I know you try to stay even-keeled, but do you have private moments of anguish over this losing streak?”

“No one's happy,” Kelly said in a bland voice, “so I don't know if the word is anguish. But I mean obviously you try to keep it consistent in terms of your approach to everything that you do. I don't think being consistent and being even-keeled means that it doesn't bother you or that you're not frustrated in terms of what's gone on. So, yeah I have those feelings if that's what you mean by anguish.”

No, Chip, that's not what I mean by anguish. The definition of that word is “severe pain or suffering,” not feeling “bothered” or “frustrated.”

Football is a wargame, Chip. Your overmatched players go to battle every Sunday, and they know beforehand they're going to die, in a sense. That's anguish. Your downtrodden, hard-working assistant coaches get shown up publicly every week, and they know they're going to keep losing. That's anguish.

You don't seem to share that burden with them. You don't seem to motivate them. You joke around when you should be coaching. You're detached like an accountant going over a column of numbers.

You're the opposite of Walsh and Harbaugh. You really need to think about that.

Grant Cohn writes sports columns and the “Inside the 49ers” blog for The Press Democrat's website. You can reach him at grantcohn@gmail.com.