Formula for 409 refreshing

Twenty-three conference titles.

Three national championships.

Highlight-film stuff. Inspiration for recruits who want to keep the legacy alive.

And then there is the topper, the climax of all of this hard work. There has been blood, sweat, and yes, a few tears over the years as the victories mounted, the legend of St. John's University football coach John Gagliardi reaching Bunyanesque proportions. Yesterday, a pulsating, come-from-behind, 29-26 win over archrival Bethel College gave Gagliardi college football's all-time record of 409 victories.

With a coating of snow on the ground, a game-time temperature of 18 degrees, and a record Clemens Stadium crowd of 13,107 coming out for the celebration, the latest act of this passion play that has played for more than 50 years ended the way everyone around Gagliardi had scripted it.

No one has won more games than Gagliardi. Not Knute Rockne. Not Paul "Bear" Bryant. Not Bobby Bowden. Not Joe Paterno.

Sure, it was done at the Division 3 level. And it was done in the heartland of America, in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, an hour and change northwest of Minneapolis, where winter arrives early and stays late, far from the bright lights of the BCS, reconfiguration, and the other trappings of major college football.

But that doesn't diminish it. Rather, it enhances it when you look at the way Gagliardi has gone about his business for the past 55 years, including 51 here at St. John's, a school of 1,800 founded by Benedictine monks in 1857.

In a profession run by control freaks, overcome with paranoia at times over secrecy issues, Gagliardi is the anti-coach. If he were a country-western singer, his signature song would be "No Shirts, No Shoes, No Problem."

Consider some of the tenets according to John, which is what everyone calls him up here in the frozen tundra:

There is no playbook.

There is no screaming at players.

There is no trash talk.

There is no practice if the gnats are bad.

There is no hitting in practice.

And there are no excuses.

"If you want to be great, you have to know what you want," says Gagliardi. "If you don't know what you want, we're in trouble."

When asked about the policy of no hitting in practice, Gagliardi's answer is filled with practical wisdom, fashioned over 50 years of on-the-job training.

"It's tough enough to win with your starters," he says. "It's more difficult if you lose any of those starters."

And then this: "It works for us. Our guys like it."

What's not to like this season? The Johnnies swept through their first eight games, including last week's win over St. Thomas, which tied Gagliardi with Eddie Robinson at 408 victories.

Yesterday's game against Bethel was the coronation march, highlighted by more national media attention, which had come in gentle waves throughout the season as Gagliardi closed in on Robinson.

"I think he was a little surprised at all the attention," said Gagliardi's son, Jim, the Johnnies' offensive coordinator.

For the Robinson family, the passing of the baton is bittersweet since Eddie Robinson is suffering from Alzheimer's disease and was unaware that Gagliardi was closing on a record he regarded with pride over his long and glorious career at Grambling.

What is particularly noteworthy about Gagliardi's accomplishment is that he has done it in such a low-key manner.

"He's getting paid for a hobby," said his son, as he stood in the hallway outside his father's offices and watched his father be ushered from interview session to interview session.

Gagliardi's mantra has been the same since he walked onto the St. John's campus in 1953 with a mission to make things better for the monks.

"They asked me, `Do you need scholarships to win?' " said Gagliardi, who has lived in the center of campus and raised a family within walking distance of his hobby or passion. "I said, `I don't think so.' The monks loved that. They said, `This is our guy.' "

His rich tapestry of success is based on things he tells his players each day: "Do the best you can. Don't worry about the past. Forget the future."

For much of yesterday's game, that was not hard to do. Bethel came in tied with St. John's for the Minnesota Intercollegiate Athletic Conference lead. Nothing less than a conference title and a guaranteed spot in the Division 3 playoffs was at stake.

And for the longest time, it looked as if the Royals were going to spoil St. John's party. They led, 26-22, with 4:57 left in the fourth quarter, and the sun was going down as quickly as the Johnnies' hopes of making this the ultimate 409 party for Gagliardi.

But as they have throughout the season, the Johnnies came marching home, led by quarterback Ryan Keating (32 of 45, 315 yards, 4 TDs), wide receiver Blake Elliott (15 catches, 163 yards, 2 TDs), and running back Josh Nelson (14 carries, 81 yards; 6 catches, 36 yards, 1 TD). Keating's 10-yard pass to Nelson with 2:03 left gave the Johnnies (9-0) the lead and allowed the celebration to start.

The crowd cheered. The Beach Boys' "409" was played on the public address system, and Gagliardi looked at it all with the same awe, amazement, and sense of humor that has carried him through a career that began as a high school player/coach during World War II at Trinidad Catholic High School in Southern Colorado.

"I want to thank you for all coming out on such a cold day," Gagliardi told the crowd. "It's so cold that if I didn't have to be here, I would have stayed home."

But he showed up as usual. And he knew from the start of the day it was special when he saw people lined up waiting to get into the stadium four hours before the game and two hours before the gates opened.

His players were aware of that. But it wasn't something they could talk about.

"There's been no 409 talk from that guy unless you are talking about a cleaning product," said Elliott.

At 77, Gagliardi knows what it's all about but says he has no interest in stopping. Besides, he says, his life hasn't changed much.

"I don't see the monks going out and buying me a Lexus," he said. "And I didn't get a pay raise and I still have to go home and take out the garbage."

He also understands how quickly things can change if he stops winning. He has watched the criticism that has fallen on Paterno as the Nittany Lions endure their worst season in 70 years.

"As soon as I start losing, they will be like they are with Joe Paterno," he said. `Saying I'm too old."

He also isn't hoping to acquire new disciples with his laissez-faire style of coaching.

"We're not looking for converts," he said. "We're not trying to change the world. We've got this little spot in central Minnesota and we're happy with it."

Which is just fine with everyone up here.