RIGHTING A WRONG; TOLEDO'S BOWL MATCHUP BITTERSWEET.

Byline: Jon Wilner Daily News Staff Writer

On Thursday, UCLA coach Bob Toledo will pace the Cotton Bowl sideline for the first time in four years, and he'll do it against his former employer, Texas A&M coach R.C. Slocum.

Toledo was Texas A&M's offensive coordinator in a 24-21 loss to Notre Dame on New Year's Day 1994. It was the Aggies' third consecutive Cotton Bowl defeat, and Slocum, a defensive specialist, fired Toledo a few days later. The news came the same day Toledo's mother had a heart attack.

Slocum and Toledo have said the right things since learning of this season's Cotton Bowl pairing. Slocum called the firing a mistake; Toledo deflected the revenge theme and defined the game as a matchup of players and programs.

No one believes him.

Thursday, Toledo is Paul Westhead returning to slay Magic's Lakers. He's Jim Harrick conquering Peter Dalis. He's John Robinson driving the stake into Mike Garrett. Rarely has vengeance come in such a neatly wrapped package. Toledo, with the nation's No. 5 team locked and cocked, has Slocum in the cross hair.

This is not a bowl game so much as a four-quarter tale of redemption, staged on a 100-yard field in a 68,252-seat theater. By denying UCLA the Sugar Bowl invitation it wanted desperately, the Bowl Alliance gods - with their twisted justice - have granted Toledo a chance he never thought would come.

Caesar is reborn, and Brutus has his back turned.

``Coach Toledo tries to downplay it, but it's a big game for him,'' UCLA senior safety Shaun Williams said. ``To play his old school, I'm sure it's big-time on his mind. He'll be a little more intense. You can always tell when coaches put a little more emphasis on a game.''

Slocum did not hire Toledo in 1988; Jackie Sherrill did. This is a crucial point, since coaches treat their own hires like brothers and someone else's hires like in-laws. When Slocum replaced Sherrill in 1989, his loyalty to Toledo was no thicker than the playbook.

With Toledo calling the plays, Texas A&M averaged 29.1 points in '92 and 36.7 in '93, eighth best in the nation. The Aggies had a top tailback, Leeland McElroy, but they lacked NFL receivers and had marginal passing quarterbacks.

NCAA-sanctioned Southwest Conference competition could not exploit the personnel weaknesses. But in the Cotton Bowl, when the Aggies faced national powers Florida State (1992) and Notre Dame (1993, '94), they lacked the run-pass balance needed to move the ball effectively. Toledo knew it. The Irish and Seminoles knew it. But Slocum didn't know it - or didn't care.

Texas A&M scored two, three and 21 points, respectively, in those Cotton Bowl defeats. Nothing else mattered.

``We reached a point where I thought it was in our best interest - and Bob's - to make a change,'' Slocum said a few months after the firing. ``We were in a situation where we were very successful on defense, and I think at one point Bob was resentful of the recognition the defense got.''

Toledo has a different view, of course. He believes Slocum sent mixed signals, talking tough about throwing with fans and media but stifling Toledo in close games then blaming him for the defeats. He believes Slocum, whose background is defense, gave all the credit to A&M's ``Wrecking Crew'' defense and treated the offense as a necessary evil.

``It's easy to blame me, but it wasn't my fault,'' Toledo said after he was hired by UCLA. ``We won a lot of games (49 in five seasons). We did a lot of great things. (Slocum) needed a scapegoat, and I was a scapegoat.

``(Slocum) didn't understand the passing game or the offense, in my opinion.''

A few days after Toledo was fired - he does not believe Slocum knew about his sick mother - Bruins coach Terry Donahue called, looking for a replacement for offensive coordinator Homer Smith. A California native who spent several years calling plays for Oregon, Toledo accepted.

He had no relationship with Slocum until the Cotton Bowl forced coexistence. At a luncheon in Dallas several weeks ago, with Toledo seated nearby, Slocum offered peace.

``I've expressed this to him privately, long before this year's Cotton Bowl game came up, that if I had it to do over again I would not have made that move,'' Slocum said.

``I was ambitious about us being better and the alumni were up in arms about the offense. I should have just said, `Back off, we're getting better.' In retrospect, we would have been a whole lot better off if I had done that. . . . We probably would have been better off if we had more talent. . . . It was probably unfair to Bob.

``It was not a good move on my part. We have not been as good on offense since that time as we were up to that time.''

Slocum had vindicated Toledo publicly for the first time. Toledo appreciated the comments and admitted things worked out for the best, since the dismissal led to his hiring as the UCLA coach in 1996.

Since the luncheon Toledo has said and done all the right things. He is not acting differently. He is not coaching differently. ``I haven't sensed a change,'' offensive coordinator Al Borges said. ``But as we get closer to kickoff, who knows?''

Clearly, though, Toledo has not resolved the issue internally. He mentions Slocum's name only when pressed and never in complimentary terms. Each time, his voice carries the distinctive tone, equal parts anger and frustration, of a man falsely accused of a crime - a man who has rebuilt his name and reputation and now stands on the brink of revenge, staring down at his accuser with proof of innocence in hand.

Two weeks ago, after practice at Spaulding Field, someone suggested that Slocum did Toledo a favor by opening the door to UCLA.

``He didn't do me a favor,'' Toledo snapped. ``Things have worked out, but he didn't do me a favor, believe me.''

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Photo

PHOTO (Color) UCLA coach Bob Toledo, left, listens to Texas A&M coach R.C. Slocum, who fired Toledo in 1994.

Associated Press