He’s Devil of a Tough Safety : Newsome Leads Rams in Quality, Quantity of Hits

That fabled Ram pecking order you’ve heard so much about has taken a beating this season, especially in the secondary, where aspiring defensive backs used to wait quietly on the bench while age and protocol were served. Then came injuries and, of course, Vince Newsome--known better as the Taz.

The Taz has soft, docile eyes. You trust these eyes. The smile disarms, as does the gentle voice. You would buy a time-share condo in Cleveland from this man.

The Taz was born in Braintree, England, where he probably learned to drink his afternoon tea with pinky pointed outward. The Taz majored in computer science at the University of Washington, conjuring up images of modems, Banlon shirts and pocket pen holders.

But the Taz, short for Tasmanian Devil (a powerful carnivorous marsupial, about the size of a raccoon, found in Australia), also can part your hair with one of his tackles. Nothing cheap, mind you, just clean, solid collisions.

“A reckless hitter,” tackling connoisseur LeRoy Irvin said. “He has no regard for his own physical well-being. The Taz, pound for pound . . . there’s no doubt he’s the toughest hitter on the team, probably in the league.”

Said Steve Shafer, who coaches the defensive backs: “Vince is maybe as valuable a player as we have defensively. As a blitzer, he’s unbelievable.”

And now comes statistical news that shows Newsome, a part-time safety and special teams player, leading the Rams in tackles. A safety? Yep, there it is for all to see: Newsome, with 101 tackles, followed by inside linebackers Mark Jerue with 94 and Carl Ekern with 78.

Dennis Gentry, a running back for the Chicago Bears, most likely remembers one of Newsome’s calling cards. The two met during a Monday Night game at Soldier Field, where Newsome deposited Gentry on the ground. Again, all fair and square, but violent, nonetheless. The hit remains one of Newsome’s personal favorites.

“This is how you can tell: . . . you hit them, they’re down and you get up,” Newsome said. “Like Gentry, he was down. I looked down at him and I was going to help him up. But he didn’t move his hands to grab my hand or anything. He was still down, and they were calling people. You never want to hurt anyone, but it was a good hit and I could tell he’d be back in a series or so.”

Gentry returned, but probably only after asking what 18-wheeler had hit him. Imagine his surprise when informed that the slightly built Newsome--he’s 6-1 and 179 pounds--had put him down.

There have been other tackles. New England running back Tony Collins got a welcome-to-Anaheim pop from Newsome this season. Mothers shielded their children’s eyes. And Irvin recalls Newsome’s request to Ram coaches to allow full-contact during the regular-season practices. Thankfully, Irvin said, the request was denied.

“I’ve been described a lot as an aggressive player, a hitter at times,” Newsome said. “Instinctive . . . but then again, I’m characterized as over-aggressive, too. It hasn’t been all positive.”

So there you have it. Newsome, a pacifist at heart, really has no control over this alter ego of his. That’s someone else wearing No. 22. Ask him to list the hardest hitters and he mentions linebacker Jim Collins, safety Johnnie Johnson, Jerue and Ekern. Newsome? He hates this stuff.

Uh, not exactly. Turns out Newsome doesn’t mind this reputation as a player who can knock the bejabbers out of you. Eric Harris, the former Ram defensive back who presented Newsome with his nickname, would be proud.

“I think I am aggressive,” Newsome said. “I think there needs to be aggressiveness. I don’t think there’s room for passiveness in this league. I mean, I’ve always made it a point to be around the ball.”

That was a fine philosophy, say, back at Washington, where Newsome never fretted over playing time. But upon arrival at Rams Park, Newsome learned that steady work was more difficult to find. So, like rookies of the past, he sat. And sat. Even after three seasons, Newsome had started just 10 games.

This pecking order, it seemed, was for the birds.

“I think the situation in the past is that players had to wait their turn,” Irvin said. “Now, it turns out we have four of the best safeties in pro football right now.”

Irvin meant Newsome, Johnson, Nolan Cromwell and Tim Fox. Although perhaps generous with his praise, Irvin is correct about the Ram personnel pyramid. It usually changes grudgingly.

Until this season. The transition began when Harris was forced to retire because of an injury. The same thing happened with cornerback Gary Green, who left because of a neck problem. And then there was Newsome, who was considered deserving of a starting position even before the two retirements. In a somewhat rare admission, the Rams said the safety positions would be “competitive.”

“Actually, I felt going into last year that Vince was ready to become a starting football player in this league,” Shafer said. “This year, we had four guys going into it that we felt strongly about.”

Then Fox and Johnson were sidelined with assorted injuries, allowing Newsome to start. When they returned, Ram coaches decided four safeties worked better than two. “So we started rotating them and it’s worked out fine,” Shafer said.

Newsome had decided he was tired of waiting anyway. “(The announced competition) kind of gave me the idea that if you’re going to do something, do it now,” he said.

So he did, and at least part of the safety position is his. Newsome still plays on the Ram special teams, well enough to possibly earn mention as a candidate for the Pro Bowl. And when the Rams need extra pass defenders, they send Newsome in, where he lines up as a linebacker.

“Pro Bowl,” Shafer said as he walked past Newsome before a meeting this week. “Vince Newsome to the Pro Bowl.”

Newsome glanced at the ground. “Naw, wrong guy,” he said.

Who knows? Maybe right guy, wrong pecking order.