Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

A businessman in Brainerd, Minn., will cross his thick forearms and smile when Miami coach Don Shula juts his square jaw ahead of George Halas as the first National Football League coach to win 325 games.

That historic game of leapfrog should take place Sunday against the Philadelphia Eagles.

When Shula eclipses Halas’ record, one image will come to Jim Langer’s mind.

“The film sessions would last for three hours, and Don would have one hand on the control, going back and forth, back and forth, while his other hand was on a flashlight with an arrow-pointing.”

Langer, an undrafted blocker out of South Dakota State, wound up in the Hall of Fame as the center of Shula’s universe during the Dolphins’ glory years in the 1970s.

Shula and Langer arrived in Miami in 1970, went 112-44-1 in the decade with a couple of Super Bowl triumphs and one perfect season. When Langer was inducted into the Hall of Fame six years ago, Shula introduced him, just as he has the other 11 enshrined Dolphins.

Langer ended his career with the Minnesota Vikings, settled in St. Cloud, Minn., and moved to Brainerd with his wife and four kids four years ago. November winds of Lake Gilbert are a long way from the balmy beaches of Miami, but Langer provides a direct link and a rare glimpse inside a coaching legend.

To him, Shula’s success emanated from those darkened rooms, the day after games, with film projectors whirring.

“We’d keep track, and he’d go back and forth an average of 25 times on each play,” Langer said. “His record was 72 times rerunning the same play. When you’d screw up on the field, while you were literally laying on the ground in the middle of the game, you be thinking: `Ugh, film sessions.’ “

They were more than the musings of an obsessed perfectionist. They were the soil from which the seed of Shula’s system germinated.

“He made it very, very clear what was expected in those film sessions, and therein lies the key to the man’s success-nothing was left unturned.

“He’d go over which step to take when pulling on a sweep and how your body position should be relative to the ballcarrier when you finished off your block. You could be 10 feet away from the ball after blocking your man, but if your position wasn’t right, your butt would get chewed out.”

Paul Warfield, Bob Griese, Larry Csonka-it didn’t matter.

“If their execution wasn’t there, they’d hear about it from Don in no uncertain terms,” Langer said.

Players such as Langer adopted Shula’s perfectionist philosophies and flourished. Players who failed to dwell on details were quickly jettisoned and replaced by those as obsessed as Shula.

“It sounds rather cold to those unfamiliar with the game,” Langer said. “But mediocrity can set in if you figured you blocked your man and he didn’t make the tackle, so what’s the big deal? At some point, that nonchalance will make a difference, and Don let everyone know that losing would absolutely never be tolerated.”

Only twice in 31 seasons as a head coach has Shula suffered a losing record. In 40 years, Halas had six.

Langer says Shula is not a tyrant. Rather, his ability to listen and adapt are as important as his loathing of losing.

“It wasn’t uncommon for Don to call a bunch of us linemen together and say: `OK, guys, which running plays do you think will work best against the Steelers?’

“We’d go to work, do our own film study and decide which plays we were best suited for. Don allowed that kind of exchange because he recognized he wasn’t an expert on how to block Joe Greene, and he certainly allowed input from those of us who were.”

Langer thinks two players sum up Shula’s brilliance: Bob Matheson and Scott Mitchell.

At the start of the 17-0 season of ’72, a couple of defensive tackles were injured.

“A lot of coaches would say: `Geez, we can’t change our scheme. We’d better pick up a couple of tackles,’ ” Langer said.

Shula was not like a lot of coaches. He put his head together with defensive coordinator Bill Arnsbarger and concocted a new defense centered around No. 53, Matheson.

On some plays, he would be a defensive lineman. On others, he would drop back and be a linebacker, leaving a three-man front, unheard of in the NFL 20 years ago.

“They threw their whole system out the window and came up with a new scheme in seven days,” Langer said.

Shula’s adaptability is just as evident today, at age 63. Langer points to Mitchell, the obscure quarterback from Utah recently thrust into the limelight when Dan Marino suffered a ruptured Achilles’ tendon.

Langer thinks it’s fitting that a quarterback no one ever heard of a month ago will lead Shula past Halas.

“Here’s a backup guy who walks out there and executes so well, he wins a few games, and it’s not by accident. The kid’s been prepared by Shula for four years, and he very clearly knows what to do.”

The biggest adjustment Shula had to make was getting used to a new generation. When he failed to win more than eight games four straight seasons in the late ’80s, many thought the game had passed him by the way it did Tom Landry and Chuck Noll.

“In the early days, he didn’t have to worry about player motivation-he’d just get rid of ’em,” said Langer. “Now he’s got more temperamental athletes and he’s had to mellow out and become less vocal.”