PHILADELPHIA _ Christmastime, Southern California, around midnight: A '69 Volkswagen coupe eases off the 405 and heads east through the quiet streets.
The man behind the wheel is chasing something, though he does not know what. At least, not concretely. What he does know is that the man who is waiting for him wants the same thing. And while the exact manifestation of this desire will not reveal itself for another seven years, both men will end the night convinced they were meant to chase it together.
And so the man behind the wheel heads east, and the man who is waiting for him heads downstairs to the parking lot where they will meet. They are young men, one more so than the other. Like most of their generation, they are fortunate to be so. That month, the newspapers would carry the story of a 32-year-old special-operations officer from Ohio gunned down southwest of Saigon.
In different circumstances, who knows? Even all these later, any thought of those days elicits thoughts of those who did not get to live them. Every generation is defined by its circumstances. These would be theirs.
Back home, Pepper Rodgers was leaving UCLA for Georgia Tech, and several members of his staff were hoping not to follow.
Carl Peterson had spent his life in Southern California, most recently as a graduate assistant for the Bruins. Dick Vermeil, an assistant coach with the NFL's Rams, had been hired as Rodgers' replacement. But the Rams were in the playoffs, and that meant time was scarce. The three hours he'd found for interviews happened to be the first three of the morning.
So that is where it begins: after midnight, in a parking lot, outside a makeshift office building, where the Rams share space with the local municipal golf course. Vermeil likes what he hears from Peterson, and later offers him a job. The year is 1973.
