THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: 'The Shark' was so much more than the Air Raid offense

Mike Leach was insistent that he explain the nuances of quarterback play.

“People think the difference between a three-step drop and a five-step drop are just two (expletive) steps,” he said.

“But it’s more than that. Watch my feet.”

Leach promptly grabbed an imaginary football, called signals, took a phantom snap and scuttled backward.

He said: “See, you take the snap and …

“Yee-aaaaaahhh!”

The coach had not seen a surprise blitzer — which happened to be my living room sofa.

He did a complete backflip which would have made Simone Biles proud.

There was no serious damage, to the coach or the furniture, which actually was pretty fortunate.

I should mention at this point that there were some adult beverages served to Mike and his brother, Tim, at the house that night.

Coach Leach, though, refused to take that excuse.

“I didn’t plant my feet properly,” he insisted, “claiming that he could have sidestepped the sofa.

“Seriously, what could the sofa run in the 40?” he said.

Somehow, that wacky night in Elk Ridge, Utah, sums up the unbelievably brilliant-but-crazy Mike Leach better than anything I’ve seen or heard.

Before or since.

THE COACH died Monday night of complications of a heart condition — only 61 years old but, as he no doubt would have pointed out, he was just coming off his first win at Mississippi State over rival Ole Miss in three tries.

“I think they should keep inventing trophies so we can keep winning them,” he said when accepting the Egg Bowl trophy.

Mike will be painfully missed by family and friends, of course, but he also was that rare coach — in a fiercely competitive business — who will be missed by an entire sport.

Yes, he could be abrasive.

Yes, he could be insulting.

After Mississippi State relaxed and let Auburn back to force overtime (in a game this year that MSU eventually won), Leach gave his players the full treatment.

“Instead of playing hard,” he ranted, “you want to sit behind a shade tree, eat a fish sandwich and drink a lemonade with your fat little girlfriend.”

No question, it was brutal.

However …

The guy was a genius who had breezed through BYU and Pepperdine Law School, and if you truly looked behind most of the seemingly insensitive things he did, you’d find a motive.

He was trying to push people, mostly to help them succeed.

Mike did it, too, winning regularly and taking teams to bowl games most every year at Texas Tech, Washington State and then Mississippi State — not exactly a murderer’s row of football powerhouses.

Players (and school administrators) who bought into Leach’s sometimes-outrageous personality also learned worlds about football.

Several are coaching in college or the NFL.

At Tech, where he ultimately got fired after producing 10 straight bowl appearances, he recognized that walk-on Lincoln Riley didn’t have the arm to play quarterback, but that the kid was a savant in the area of offensive football.

He gave Riley a job as a student assistant, which became a gig as receivers coach — and ironically, Riley wound up calling players in the bowl game right after Leach was fired.

Riley just produced a Heisman Trophy winner, Caleb Williams, in his first year as head coach at USC.

About Leach’s firing, though …

By now, you’ve probably heard that Mike had Adam James — son of former pro and then-ESPN commentator Craig James — locked in a closet because he had a concussion and couldn’t practice.

Testimony in various lawsuits proved the tale to be false, and Leach — who admitted routinely that he could be harsh and even vindictive — publicly hooted when Craig James later had financial problems.

FOR ALL of the insults and occasionally profane comments about various people and subjects, Leach was a fascinating individual — and believe it or not, he could be incredibly kind.

He had the most varied and eclectic interests of anyone I’ve ever met.

How many football coaches wind up writing a book about Geronimo?

And there’s this …

Tim Leach called his brother “The Shark” as a regular nickname.

“I’m not even sure how it started,” Tim said. “It’s not like a family nickname or anything.”

What Tim freely admits is that his brother was no real shark, gliding quietly through life while hunting his prey.

Mike Leach was just the opposite.

Right out front.

For instance, he saw no reason whatsoever to waste money — no matter how much you have.

“I visited him in Lubbock once, and he decided we should go down to the football office one morning,” Tim recalled.

“Now, I need coffee to get started, and I asked Shark to stop at a convenience store so I could get a cup to go.

“He said no. I’m like … what? No?

“Shark said they had a coffee machine at the office, so there was no reason I should spend any money. I’m saying, it’s just a damn 75 cents.

“It’s MY 75 cents.

“But he wouldn’t stop the car, and we just drove on to the office.”

TIM ALSO found it totally in character that Mike had a huge house in Lubbock — Texas Tech boosters insisted he live in a fancy neighborhood — but that several rooms had no furniture at all.

“Shark just figured it was stupid to put things in a bunch of rooms you’d never use. Why waste the money?

“That was him.”

The football world will remember Mike for the Air Raid offense, and all the offshoots it has spawned at every level of the game.

Fair enough.

But there was so much more.

So much …

Most of the time, statements from school presidents and other administrators are such boilerplate nonsense, they put you to sleep.

Credit, though, to Mississippi State prez Mark Keenum, who concluded his statement about Mike’s passing this way …

“I will miss Mike’s profound curiosity, his honesty, and his wide-open approach to pursuing excellence in all things.”

Me, too, President Keenum.

Email: [email protected]

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press four times each week, normally Tuesday through Friday.

Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”