Even $54 steak can't coax lineman to rainy Seattle

“Get me out of here, man,” the jumbo-sized guard told his agent upon agreeing to remain with the Chargers. “I don't care where I'm sitting.”

Dielman had been whisked to Washington via private jet Friday, fawned over and fed like a visiting head of state. When he arrived at Qwest Field, a jersey bearing his name had been hung in the Seattle Seahawks' dressing room. His official welcome included a scoreboard salute and, later, a ponderous cut of beef at The Metropolitan Grill.

Yet he left the place as if he were being pursued by a posse, squeezing his 310 pounds into an exit-row window seat on a noon Alaska Airlines flight rather than wait for first class at 5 p.m.

“They didn't do (anything) wrong,” Dielman said of the Seahawks, “but I'm happy here. I just couldn't get myself to be happy there. Seattle, man, it's raining all the time.”

Nearly 10 weeks after the Chargers' soggy Christmas Eve comeback, Dielman returned to Qwest Field Friday to find the weather had not improved. Later, while swallowing some $54 steak with some prospective teammates, Dielman received a text message saying the Seahawks had met his price and were awaiting his signature. His response was to stall.

It was a done deal, except that Kris Dielman didn't want to do it. He had gone to Seattle not so much to seek his fortune, but to prod Team Spanos into competitive bidding, and he wanted to believe he was worth it. When he finally signed his new Chargers' contract yesterday afternoon, Dielman was almost as relieved as he was rich.

The six-year deal Dielman ultimately struck could be worth almost $40 million (of which $17 million is essentially guaranteed), but he left some money on the table for the comfort of continuing among friends. Despite the many dollars being dangled before him, Dielman had gone sleepless in Seattle.

“I was pacing the room pretty good, watched a little TV and was on the phone a lot,” he said, recounting his long night's journey into day. “All night, all week it's been like that. This is not a fun time. Free agency is no fun, man.”

Though it is hard to think of being the object of a bidding war as hardship, it is easy to see how it could be stressful. Kris Dielman knew going in he was in line for lifetime wealth, but he had no assurance he could get it without relocating. Chargers' General Manager A.J. Smith, normally as warm and fuzzy as an igloo, went to extraordinary lengths to express his desire to keep Dielman, but he had sounded almost resigned to replacing him.

“I thought we had a shot,” Smith said yesterday. “What I was nervous about was that there could be some (offer) so outrageous, that the gap could be so wide, that we (would lose Dielman). . . .

“You just can't chase rainbows. You have to be smart people and do the right thing.”

The deal the Chargers finally did indicates a new bull market for interior linemen and a welcome willingness from Dean Spanos to pay a premium to retain key players. “We stepped out of the box,” Smith said, “and even stepped out a little bit further.”

To stand still would have been to wave goodbye. Armed with Seattle's offer, and the market-moving deals of Buffalo guard Derrick Dockery and Cleveland tackle Erich Steinbach, agent Mike McCarthy had no difficulty showing that elite guards have become a commodity. The lobbying efforts of Chargers players – notably fullback Lorenzo Neal – only echoed Dielman's importance.

“When Lorenzo called me and started talking to me, he was adamant that he did not want me to leave,” Dielman said. “He said, 'Give me a chance. Let me get something done here.'

“I don't know what he did. I don't know what happened. But I'm a Charger now, so I'm thinking he made some phone calls or did something.”

Dielman spent much of Friday night on the phone, discussing his predicament with teammates and family members. Then, about 8:30 a.m. yesterday morning, McCarthy called to confirm a breakthrough with the Chargers. When Dean Spanos reached A.J. Smith with news of the deal, the GM was headed out of the house. He drove to work with a scratchy throat, but one less worry.

“Best Saturday I've ever had working in my life,” Smith said.

Except for his seating arrangements on the airplane, it was a pretty decent day from where Kris Dielman stood, too.