COACHES CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH VS. HEAT.

Byline: KEVIN MODESTI

Somewhere in America on Wednesday, a football coach heard about Korey Stringer's death and thought, ``Wow, these guys will do anything to get out of two-a-days!''

He thought, ``What a tragedy for the Minnesota Vikings organization! They aren't very deep at tackle.'' He told his own players, ``See, this never would have happened if Stringer worked harder to get in shape before training camp.''

You know the type of coach I mean: He believes in working as hard as his players - only his hard work takes place in a cool film room while they're slaving under blazing sun. He's all heart and compassion - in the manner of a prison guard.

He's nonjudgmental when it comes to a case of a player literally working himself to death. He can't decide whether Stringer is a wimp or a heroic casualty of a just war.

You know that coach exists, somewhere.

But he wasn't among the coaches at the Pacific-10 Conference's annual football media day near LAX on Wednesday.

To hear these guys talk, you'd think every coach is a doting mother to his players, a caring soul who watches practices out of one eye while he stirs pitchers of lemonade for the kids.

``I don't see coaches still adhering to the old-line policy of 'tough it out,' '' said Washington coach Rick Neuheisel, the former UCLA and San Diego Chargers quarterback. ``Coaches are always going to push and try to get more out of players than they can get out of themselves. But we've got to draw the line when it comes to someone's health.''

Yet, despite those good intentions, college- and high school-level football has lost 18 players since 1995 to the heat. Boxing is closer to checkers than to football when it comes to player safety.

The Pac-10 coaches had heard the news about Stringer on their way to the press conference. How the All-Pro tackle from Ohio State, a 27-year-old husband and father, had left the Vikings' practice in Mankato, Minn., with heat exhaustion on Monday. How he'd returned to the field in 92-degree heat on Tuesday only to lapse into heat stroke and die in the middle of the night in a hospital.

The coaches could picture the 335-pound Stringer trying to gut it out, to set a good example for teammates, while under the layer of fat that offensive linemen are encouraged to carry, a natural microwave oven was heating up.

The coaches had heard that Stringer died six days after the heat-stroke death of a University of Florida freshman during voluntary summer conditioning drills.

The coaches had felt the news like a punch in the conscience.

``It hits home,'' said Tom Holmoe, the Cal coach who played in three Super Bowls for the San Francisco 49ers. ``You see yourself giving a eulogy for one of your players. No thanks.''

Holmoe remembers his rookie year in the NFL, playing an early-September game on the artificial turf of St. Louis' Busch Stadium.

``When you were on the field,'' said Holmoe, who wasn't on the field much as a special-teams player, ``all you could think about was getting off the field and putting a wet towel on your head.''

But he'd put up with it.

``As players and coaches, you've been in situations where you can't go another play. But the mentality is, you suck it up and go.''

Cal will begin quote-unquote fall practice this month in Turlock, in California's Central Valley. Some players will sweat away 10 pounds in a day, if Holmoe's experience is a guide. The coach said players will weigh out and in so the training staff can head off unsafe changes.

``One thing that will come from this (Stringer's death) is that trainers will double their stores of water,'' Holmoe said.

Bob Toledo said UCLA weighs and measures players before and after practice sessions, and has trainers keep an eye on players who are prone to heat exhaustion.

``I've sent them in (to the locker room),'' Toledo said. ``Some guys want to tough it out. I don't give them that option.''

That's a step forward from Toledo's quarterbacking days, when coaches didn't want you to drink water and encouraged players to take salt pills.

``Any coach who's on top of it knows water breaks are mandatory,'' said Washington State's Mike Price, ``and allowing players to take their helmets off so they can breathe through the tops of their heads, and holding your longer practices early in the day when it's cooler.''

Price thinks the NCAA's policy of barring coaches and other staff from players' voluntary summer conditioning, strength and agility training is dangerous. The players should be monitored by experienced eyes.

``I can look at a kid and say, 'Whoa, you've had enough,' '' Price said.

After that, it's up to the kid, admitted Scott Peters, Arizona State's 290-pound center.

``They can give you water or Gatorade, but you've got to want to drink it,'' Peters said.

The All-Conference junior remembers ``two or three times'' when he couldn't stand the heat - always on 100-degree-plus days when the Sun Devils practiced in full pads.

``I started shivering. I was feeling dizzy, pretty much out of it,'' Peters said, describing one episode. ``I told the trainer I need some water.

``I didn't think a great deal about it then. But this (Stringer) tragedy makes you realize how important it is to take care of your body. ... You've got to think about your life.''

A coach has to think about dozens of lives.

``You get used to pushing, pushing, pushing,'' said Pete Carroll, the new head coach of USC. ``Sometimes you've got to take a step back.''

The problem isn't that coaches don't know, don't care or don't act. If that were the problem, it could be fixed. The problem is that coaches these days do seem to know, care and act.

And that sometimes that isn't enough.