RUSHING RECORDS REFLECT DOLPHINS `NEW' STYLE.

Byline: Larry Guest Orlando Sentinel 

By galloping well past the 1,000-yard pole in the Wounded Pride Bowl over the New York Jets last Sunday, Miami Dolphins rookie tailback Karim Abdul-Jabbar provided franchise records for yards, 100-yard games, rushing touchdowns and - according to first-year Dolphins coach Jimmy Johnson - record hope for the immediate future.

Abdul-Jabbar, the quiet, focused newcomer, punctuated his first pro season after a college career at UCLA with a brilliant 152-yard performance - including a 17-yard score - that pushed him to Dolphins rookie-record totals of 1,116 yards, 11 touchdowns and four 100-yard games.

After a 31-28 escape from the Jets that allowed the Dolphins (8-8) to sidestep a losing season, Abdul-Jabbar purposefully circled the locker room and pumped the massive mitts of each Miami offensive linemen, thanking them for helping him past the 1,000-yard barrier.

``It's something that shows more what they (linemen) have done,'' said Abdul-Jabbar, who plans to treat those linemen to some yet-to-be-determined gift this winter. ``For me, mainly, it's just something I'll look back on after my career and say I got a 1,000 yards in my rookie year.''

Abdul-Jabbar is not one to toot his own oboe. Others were more than willing to fill that void, not the least of which is the man determined to force-feed offensive balance to the formerly Air Dolphins. ``I'm happy for Karim and the various records he set,'' Johnson said. ``Karim is not a big back, but he's going to get stronger and better. I think all of these rookies are going to get better. As I just told them, a lot of things that slipped through our fingers this year - with all the changes we made - won't slip through our fingers next year. We'll be a better football team.''

The sunny symbolism of Abdul-Jabbar's 1K season - the first by a Miami runner in 18 long years - was not lost on Johnson, the confirmed ground hog. ``It's a statement,'' he said. ``Here's what we're going to do, guys. We're going to run the football. This is the first time that the Dolphins have been positive on the turnover ratio (plus 12) since 1984. One reason for it is running the football. A lot of times, if you throw it every down, you get a lot of yardage and points, but you also turn it over. We won this game today because we turned it over once and they turned it over twice.''

Some scholars might argue it also had something to do with Dan Marino's 1-, 33- and 50-yard TD passes, the last to Randal Hill, who celebrated the game-winner with a bump-and-grind end-zone dance. ``I didn't see it,'' Johnson said of the choreography. ``But after a touchdown that big, it's amazing you didn't see me do a dance!'

The Dolphins were charitable in their post-mortem assessment of the Jets, but it goes without saying that a losing record would have been an extremely sour Christmas trimming - particularly if it had been finished off by the laughingstock of the NFL. As the Jets mercifully disappeared into the tunnel for the last time this year, a mocking New Yorker greeted them with a cardboard epitaph: ``End of an Error.''

Denied again, the star-crossed Jets posted their worst record (1-15) in franchise history and supplanted the Bucs as leading fodder for stand-up comics. David Letterman yukked the other night this Jets finale would be ``televised with a laugh track.'' For one of his trademark top 10 lists, Letterman jabbed that the No. 1 indication you won't be receiving a Christmas bonus was, ``You are the starting quarterback of the New York Jets.''

The Jets' starting quarterback, Glenn Foley, not only failed to earn a bonus, he failed to finish. Frank Reich, the old Buffalo backup, was summoned from the bullpen in the final frame and provided a flicker of hope with a 78-yard TD drive to pull the Jets within 3. But when they got the ball back with destiny in their own shaky hands with nearly 4 minutes left, Jets receiver Wayne Chrebet promptly fumbled at midfield on the first play and the few remaining customers headed to the exits - or to the players' tunnel, armed with cardboard signs and guttural bon mots.