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The greatest old NFL coach doesn’t act his age.

The key was to see how Dick Vermeil responded to Minnesota. That day up north was his nightmare scenario. His Chiefs were humiliated. Some of his players caved in. The locker-room harmony he had worked so hard to build was shattered by a shouting match.

A brilliant season–three long years of intense, draining labor–seemed headed right down the tubes. The key was to see what he would do.

Here’s what Vermeil did. He gave his players the day off for Christmas.

And the next Sunday, in what could have been a mail-in game, his players looked refreshed and alive. They steamrolled the Bears 31-3 and played with more passion than they had shown in a month. They hugged afterward. They go into the playoffs with life.

“I’d never had a coach give us off Christmas before,” Chiefs defensive end Vonnie Holliday said with wonder in his voice.

A little thing? Sure. But that’s Vermeil. He constantly does little things like that. He goes up to Dante Hall every week and says, “I had a dream last night that you broke one for a touchdown.” He goes up to Trent Green every week and says, “You are my leader.” He goes up to his defensive players every week and says, “I believe in you.” He makes sure that Priest Holmes gets the touchdown record that means so much to him.

He understands players’ hearts.

Vermeil said last week he would return for another season. He’s not ready for retirement. He proved that with his brilliant coaching this year. He took a team that had not made the playoffs in five years and won 13 games with them. And he’s 67 years old.

Pro football is normally no place for old men. The game is brutal on our senior citizens. Many of the giants of coaching–Tom Landry, Chuck Noll, Don Shula, Curly Lambeau and others–were either fired or asked gently to step aside at the end.

Tough coaches lose their willpower and their edge. Players’ coaches lose their patience and their passion. They all stop wanting to make the hard decisions. They all start letting little things go.

That’s what makes Vermeil such a marvel. Sure, he gets tired. Sure, there are times he has thought of quitting. But somehow, he finds a reservoir of energy somewhere. Somehow, he finds his enthusiasm after a loss. And that’s what makes him remarkable.

He still works most days until 1 a.m. even as his friend and boss Carl Peterson begs him to let assistant coaches do more of the work. But Vermeil says you can’t change who you are.

Vermeil wanted to come back only if he believed he could win again. He had to settle in his mind what he would do with his assistant coaches. He had to decide whether he could go through the Space Needle highs and Grand Canyon lows of an NFL season one more time.

Now, he seems to have the answers.

He doesn’t keep up with iPods and plasma TVs, he doesn’t know Jay-Z or Outkast, he doesn’t play Madden 2004. He’s not young that way. He probably can’t work a DVD player either.

But he connects. When he gave his players Christmas Day off, it worked. But maybe that’s how Dick Vermeil stays young. He knows the power of little things.