Columnist Ron Kantowski: Robinson’s team shows heart and a pulse

Monday, Oct. 4, 2004 | 10:09 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

It was a victory so thorough, decisive, uplifting and unexpected that it would take a clinical psychologist to figure it out.

Or Denver Broncos CEO Pat Bowlen.

"This one (insert dramatic pause here) was for John."

The John to which Bowlen was referring, of course, was Elway, who after long last finally got the Super Bowl victory that he deserved.

The John to which I am referring, of course, is Robinson, the embattled UNLV football coach who, in a 48-13 demolition of Fremont Cannon rival Nevada-Reno Saturday night, finally got the all-around effort from his team that he deserved.

Knowing Robinson, if all it was going to take to get the Rebels to play inspired football was to announce his resignation, he probably would have done it a long time ago instead of waiting until last Sunday.

"We're going to send him out with a bang," said loquacious cornerback Ruschard Dodd-Masters, who, as usual, was talking loud, long and fast to anybody willing to listen in the winner's dressing room.

As Dodd-Masters continued with a filibuster that would have done Sen. Jefferson Smith proud, his defensive backfield mate Joe Miklos finally arrived at his cubicle. It was a good 20 minutes after the game, and Miklos was still dressed in full uniform.

After the game he had just played, who could blame him for wanting to savor the moment? Miklos, the Rebels' free safety, made key pass deflection after key pass deflection while seemingly covering the width of the field. And when he finally got both hands around the ball, he covered the length of the field, too, returning an interception 95 yards for a touchdown, although he only got credit for 79 yards and good field position.

Note to WAC officials on UNLV's sideline: The green part of the field is considered in bounds in the Mountain West. Miklos and Rebels wide receivers Earvin Johnson and Alvin Marshall each had touchdowns taken off the board -- literally -- when it was ruled they had stepped out of bounds before striking paydirt. The touchdowns seemed so apparent that the scoreboard operator even rang them up on the big board.

So those guys and their teammates, bound and determined to honor their coach after what had to be an emotionally draining pactice week, had no choice but to continue to make big plays whenever the Rebels needed them.

"It was sort of a silent thing," Miklos said of the Rebels' ability to circle the wagons following Robinson's announcement that he would be stepping down at the end of the season. "We knew what we needed to do."

As Miklos dissected his shoulda-been touchdown in frame-by-frame fashion -- "I was IN bounds," he exclaimed -- something flashed through my mind. Or maybe it was just another stream of consciousness from Dodd-Masters, going in one ear and out the other.

He was still holding court when I backpedaled -- which is the only way to exit a Rebels dressing room that is roughly the size of Kerri Strug's closet -- and tripped over the Fremont Cannon.

It was sitting in the middle of the tiny enclave, its spokes painted a brilliant red, but it was being ignored. Which for anybody who didn't wear a blue "F-UNLV" T-shirt to the game, is a good thing.

For starters, in that the cannon was red, it meant that UNLV was victorious in last year's renewal. And in that nobody was rubbing its barrel for good luck, inspiration, or, in Dodd-Masters' case, to see his reflection in it, it also means the Rebels are getting awfully used to having it around.

In fact, if UNR ever beats UNLV again, it's going to take some space-age polymer to remove the thick coat of red paint from the cannon. This was UNLV's fifth consecutive victory against the Wolf Pack, equaling the longest time either side has possessed the prized piece of artillery. UNR has twice won five in a row (1989-93 and 1995-99).

Robinson's first UNLV team lost 26-12 up in Reno. Since then, he has made the Wolf Pack his ... well, let's just leave it at "defeated opponent," as I don't want to spend the rest of the week responding to nasty e-mail from Virginia Street.

Bowl games and rivalry games ... don't bet against Robinson in either. And also give him credit for creating additional interest in the game, at least on the home front, where it once appeared on the wane.

Just when it appeared BYU was on the verge of replacing UNR as the Rebels' biggest rival, Robinson had the idea to commemorate every victory against UNR with a bronze plaque and monument on the UNLV practice field. The catch is that only seniors have their names engraved under the final score.

That's what crossed my mind as Dodd-Masters continued to spout off like Meadowlark Lemon calling for the ball in the low post.

"I got my name up on there. I'm on the wall," he chortled. "Fifty years from now, they'll still know I was here."

No, we won't soon forget you, Ruschard. That's for sure.

So just like that, the Rebels are 1-2 (OK, 1-4 if you insist on counting the bodybag games that opened the season at Tennessee and Wisconsin) and smiling again. And you almost get the feeling then when the Friday night lights come on in Provo this week, they'll have something to play for.

That's what happens when you win one for John, although the man himself deflected that line of questioning as if it were a pass thrown in Miklos' direction.

"This was good for everybody," he said during his brief postgame remarks. "We're down one in our conference. There's still life in our team."

With that, Robinson good-naturedly browbeat a reporter for not having the score of the BYU-Colorado State game and then excused himself to hug the wife of Raiders coach Norv Turner -- who also happens to be the mother of Rebels third-string quarterback Scott Turner.

I think Nancy Turner was about 79th person standing in that line.