Bell: Leaders such as Romeo Crennel should be in loop

In a time of crisis, Romeo Crennel is the perfect coach for the Kansas City Chiefs.

One of his starting linebackers, Jovan Belcher, killed his live-in girlfriend, Kasandra Perkins, then drove to team headquarters and took his own life. A 2-month-old baby was orphaned. And the day after the tragedy unfolded, the Chiefs played a football game.

Now comes the next game, in Cleveland — where Crennel previously coached and Chiefs starter Brady Quinn used to play quarterback — after a week of memorials, intense questions and soul-searching.

Through it all, Crennel has seemed as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar. The rest of the players need a strong leader, and even-keeled Crennel, with his military upbringing, has been a model of resilience.

This figures. If you know Crennel, it would not surprise you if he is described as the coolest person in the room when there is chaos about. He is the type that you can't tell whether he has won or lost a game at first glance because he always comes off as the same, consistent person.

He's the father-figure coach Chiefs players lobbied for last year after Todd Haley was dumped, his appeal undoubtedly coinciding with his reputation around the league. He's trustworthy.

Yet despite this, it's what happened before the crisis that is unsettling.

Crennel said this week he had no inkling Belcher had underlying issues with Perkins that undoubtedly factored into last weekend's horror.

According to The Kansas City Star, Belcher and Perkins were engaged in counseling through the Chiefs. Police told The Star the Chiefs "were bending over backwards" to help Belcher and Perkins, although there is no public record of domestic incidents.

That revelation fuels so many questions.

What issues? Why did the Chiefs become involved? Who initiated the counseling? Was there a precipitating event? Should Belcher have been allowed to keep weapons?

Crennel provides no answers for this. He explained that counseling services provided by the team's player development department are separate from the football operations, essentially maintaining there was an information wall that prevented him from knowing.

That's a problem. The coach needs to know.

The Chiefs have not commented on the reports; the team's player engagement director, Katie Douglass, has not been made available for interview requests.

It's a sticky issue, for certain, flirting with the fine line that involves an employee's right to privacy and the confidentiality that is at the foundation of counseling services.

Players in such a competitive environment as pro football might not be as willing to engage in counseling if they suspect their issues could be a factor in determining their status on the roster. A stigma could be attached.

Of course, it's possible the coach can help if aware of issues.

While the league provides voluntary counseling and other services for players and families provided by its player engagement department, the teams in the league operate the player-support systems independently.

And the philosophies of how to implement those programs vary.

The Dallas Cowboys, for instance, have been so involved with the personal lives of some troubled players over the years — Michael Irvin, Adam "Pacman" Jones and now Dez Bryant — the club provided round-the-clock security. In those cases, however, the players had legal issues that surfaced publicly that prompted the team to implement a hand's-on approach.

A little more than a week ago, Crennel was considered a coach on the hot seat — along with general manager Scott Pioli — amid a disastrous season.

If he returns, the tragedy might have demonstrated that to be an even better coach, Crennel needs to be a lot more in the loop.