But that is not a scandal. Every group that gathers on the Capitol Mall leaves trash, and it is hauled away by government workers as a matter of course.

So, they left 80,000 pounds of garbage. Friends, that works out to only about 3 ounces a man, depending on the crowd estimate you use. That's the equivalent of about a pop can and a napkin apiece. Therefore, the evidence shows many of them kept their pledge to fast. A few might have stuffed their faces with a hot dog or two, but let's cut them some slack - these guys were genuine promise keepers.

We really shouldn't care how much garbage they left if all those men returned home and became better husbands and fathers.

Now Bill ("Coach") McCartney, Promise Keepers' founder, wants to take the movement worldwide and he is busy contacting international leaders to see if they will stir up men in their countries and perhaps host events in sports stadiums.

If you've ever attended a Promise Keepers event, you know this international plan will face at least one problem. Here in the United States, the Promise Keepers gatherings have been modeled after football games where the coaches are constantly screaming at the players to hit harder, tackle lower and, in general, become a collective force.

But internationally, the big sport is soccer, a relative gentleman's game where coaches stand on the sideline intellectually watching teams kick a round ball back and forth until it accidentally falls into the big net.

McCartney, a former football coach at Colorado University, is the Promise Keepers' coach, too, and all the men sitting in chairs in the sports stadiums are the football team.

At the group's rallies, speaker after speaker tries to pep the players up for the big game, which will occur when they return to their families. Then Coach McCartney approaches the podium. This is the moment of truth. Suddenly, you're back in high school and it's halftime of the big homecoming game.

The team has entered the locker room in a funk because the score is 14-0, with the crosstown rivals ahead. You're the center of attention because you dropped the ball, did not carry out your assignment and failed to live up to all those promises you made to your girlfriend/wife who is faithfully waiting for you to pick up the ball and run for a touchdown.

Coach comes into the locker room. All the players sit with sweat running down their faces, hunks of turf hanging from their helmets and blood on their thigh pads. The team sits with heads between their knees, ashamed, beaten and looking for a spiritual jolt.

Coach paces for a couple of minutes, clipboard in hand, and then he turns and looks directly at you. "OK, men, we've dropped the ball, we've missed tackles, we're blocking like dorks and we haven't scored a touchdown. That's the truth.

"But we're not going to lose this game," Coach says with conviction. "Do you hear me? We're not losing this game. Are you going to let these punks punish you all night? Are you going to let them humiliate you on homecoming weekend? Are you going to look like a bunch of teddy bears or are you going to be men?"

Of course, the team starts to roar its approval, and before you know it, everyone in the locker room is on his feet ready to tear flesh from the faces of their opponents.

He has motivated millions of men to return to the big game after a string of losing seasons, confront the opponent and win the big one for Jesus Christ. There is no question the ploy works with many men in the United States, particularly those who played football.

But what about the world's soccer players? Will they hear the same clarion call to stay out of the pubs and go home to the family and be responsible?

Time will tell, but my guess is that somebody will need to translate the message.

Clark D. Morphew
October 11, 1997