Zeke Mowatt

In the last 20 years, since women sportswriters have been allowed to interview athletes in locker rooms, there have been some uncomfortable incidents, from fraternity house-style heckling to a USFL player running a razor up the leg of one writer. Jack Morris, a Detroit Tigers pitcher, said to a Detroit Free Press summer female intern, "I don't talk to women when I'm naked unless I'm on top of them or they're on top of me."

In a public-relations masterstroke that proves Pete Rozelle and Lisa Olson may be gone but they are not forgiven, NFL players have been issued a how-to manual and instructional cassette on the proper care and feeding of the press. The 30-minute tape, "Winning The Media Game -- A Guide For NFL Players," is narrated by kicker-turned-hardware salesman Pat Summerall, who takes his audience gently by the paw and tenderly talks it through the treacherous minefield of depth charts and decorum.

Timmie Ware caught three fourth-quarter touchdown passes, including a 52-yarder with 31 seconds remaining, to lead the San Diego Chargers to a 45-38 exhibition victory over the Philadelphia Eagles in a wild aerial show Saturday night at San Diego. The Eagles tied the score at 38-38 with 1:10 remaining, but reserve San Diego quarterback Tom Flick threw his fourth touchdown pass, and third to Ware, to complete a lightning 70-yard drive that took four plays and about 30 seconds.

In the state of Chiba, directly east of Tokyo, an association of Japanese golf course owners has had it with the "flowers of evil that spoil our greens." This is not a horticultural issue. The course owners are determined to weed out Japan's "tattooed men," i.e., gangsters, who have been attracted in growing numbers to the sport's elite level.

New England Patriot owner Victor Kiam, who Sunday promised "mammoth changes" in the club's management in the wake of allegations by a female reporter that she was sexually harassed by players in the locker room, made one move almost immediately. Bob Lobel of WBZ-TV in Boston said Kiam told reporters in the Foxboro Stadium press box Sunday that Bob Romano will become the club's vice president of finance and team operations, a new position.

It's funny, but until Sunday, Phil Simms was never just Phil Simms. People couldn't spit out his name without hanging a qualifier on it. You may remember him as "that damned Phil Simms" and "Phil he's-OK-for-now Simms." For eight seasons as the New York Giants' quarterback, it's been Phil Simms and a mouthful of ifs, ands and buts. And what was so different about the week leading to the Super Bowl, when we learned that Simms was not as tall or as swift or as strong as Denver's John Elway?

The National Football League, the poster proclaims, is the place for free agents. And to prove it, there are photos of five current players who made NFL rosters via the free-agency route: Sam Washington of the Steelers, Mel Kaufman of the Redskins, Dave Krieg of the Seahawks, Zeke Mowatt of the Giants and Bill Bates of the Cowboys. "Hold On To Your Dream!" the poster says. The poster hangs in the offices of the Dallas Cowboys' training headquarters.

Does the fine always fit the crime? In November, 1990, the National Football League fined the New England Patriots $72,500 for the sexual harassment of Boston Herald sportswriter Lisa Olson. The Patriots were fined $50,000, along with players Zeke Mowatt ($12,500) and Robert Perryman and Michael Timpson ($5,000 each). In August, 1992, the Assn.

When the Super Bowl game was over, Times sportswriter Richard Hoffer asked the key question: "What to do with a team, famous for its gadget plays, that runs three times from the one-yard line?" Denver's Broncos, who did that Sunday, didn't have a good answer afterward for their conservative goal-line offense. And they still don't. The truth is that they lost a title game they could have won from the better team with a better game plan.

To understand the gift of Joe Morris on Super Bowl Sunday, you must go back to March, April, May and June. You must observe Morris, away from anything you might think glamorous, talking to himself in the corner of the New York Giants' weight room. You must hear Morris howling like a coyote to no one. It is in this room that Morris takes the weight of a bar and a world on his shoulders. Each excruciating leg squat of 555 pounds is delivered with a message and purpose.