SAM DEAN The Roanoke Times

Coaching was never in Mike London's master plan. Once he was convinced he had given professional football his best shot, he had visions of becoming a Secret Service agent or United States Marshal.

London only turned to coaching when somebody put a gun to his head.

In some cases, that's an expression that is used flippantly. Not so for London, who is entering his first season as the head football coach at the University of Virginia.

He could easily have been killed before he ever donned a coaching whistle.

The actual date is a little fuzzy. It occurred sometime around 1988, when London was in his late 20s. His final season at the University of Richmond was in 1982 and he had a tryout with the Dallas Cowboys later that spring, followed by a brief stint with the Chicago Blitz of the United States Football League.

Legendary Washington Redskins coach George Allen had been named coach of the Blitz prior to that season and London thought he made the team as a defensive back. That is, until the team was working on out patterns one day and a receiver decided to turn upfield.

"I turned to go chase him and pulled my quad, hamstring, everything there was to pull," London said in a July interview. "It was ugly and Coach Allen walked up to me and said, 'London, can you get up? Can you go?' And, I was like, 'Can I go? I can't even walk.' So that was pretty much the end of that."

There are so many variations of counter-intelligence nowadays that all it takes is a bachelor's degree to enter the Secret Service or become a U.S. Marshal. However, when London inquired about those professions, he was told that he needed "law-enforcement experience."

So, London enrolled in the Richmond Police Academy and completed the program in 1984, at which point he was assigned an area close to his old University of Richmond haunts. One of his first duties was handing out parking tickets in an area affectionately known as the "pony pasture."

"Here I am, all buff and jacked up in my nice blue uniform, [with] my badge and everything, looking like a swollen-up raisin and writing tickets," he said. "About three months later, the captain in a street-crimes unit asked if I wanted to do some undercover work.

"He said, 'You can wear plain clothes, you can grow a mustache, you can [wear] an earring.' I said, 'I'm there.' So, boom, I became a detective. We targeted rapists, robbers, beating subjects, guys who had jumped bail. I mean the worst of the worst."

And, that's what London did for about three years. One night, he and his partner got a call that a robbery had taken place in south Richmond. Somebody had held up a Kentucky Fried Chicken and was seen driving off in a white van.

"Lo and behold, the van in the description was sitting right there in front of us at a light down on Midlothian Boulevard," London said. "We're like, 'Hey, we got the car,' and we called for more units."

London figured the occupants of the van knew they were being followed because they pulled into a private driveway and turned their vehicle so it was facing the road. London and his partner pulled their guns, flashed their badges and identified themselves as police officers. All of a sudden, the driver floored the accelerator.

"Maybe it was instincts," London said, "but, like an idiot, I jumped in the driver's side while he was trying to drive away. I'm fighting with him to get his hands off the steering wheel. And that's when he pulls a gun, points it at my face. Looked like a big ol' cannon.

"Pulled the trigger and it went click."

It may not have discharged at that point, but London let go of the wheel. Shots were exchanged as the van pulled off the road. An ensuing chase took place and the perpetrators eventually were located and charged, but they were successful in disposing of any weapons.

"You know how these things happen," London said. "People say, 'Hey, listen, you testify, I know where your family lives.' The people at the KFC weren't testifying. So, all of a sudden, the robbery case was dismissed.

"Then, it comes to me: attempted capital murder on a police officer, use of a firearm in commission of a felony. The lawyers say, 'Well if they weren't identified in the robbery, what's the probable cause?' And, if you have no gun, you can't have attempted capital murder on a police officer.' "

If not for the brush with death, London might be in the Secret Service, or at least, he would have been a detective for a little while longer.

"I was like, 'You know what?' There's got to be something better than this 'cause I just almost lost my life,' " London said . "And, you know what? These guys -- thank God they didn't get away with murder -- but they got away with robbery. That kind of started the whole mindset of 'I'm out of here.'"

London was married and, at the time, had three children. He continued to be haunted by the incident for years and clearly, from his vivid recall, has not forgotten it.

London's experiences as a police officer were largely unknown until he became the head coach at the University of Richmond and directed the Spiders to the Division I-AA national championship in his first season, 2008.

London got into coaching following his departure from the law enforcement field. He was hired as the linebackers coach at Richmond for the 1989 season.

Paul London, the youngest of four London brothers, said all he knows about his Mike's career as a detective is what he has read in newspaper articles.

"I'm 12 years younger than he is," said Paul, a UVa defensive back from 1992-1995, "so, I don't think I understood the gravity of a situation where anything can happen and any moment can be your last."

There has been a significant reduction in crime in Richmond over the past decade, but in 1995, Richmond ranked second nationally in homicides among populations of more than 100,000. And, things weren't much better in the '80s.

"That job comes with inherent dangers and our family worried from that standpoint," Paul said. "I'm almost glad I didn't know more about it. I'd never heard that story about the [gun] until a year or two ago.

"I never asked him about it. I felt, if it was something that he wanted to discuss or share with the family, he would have mentioned it. I think he'd be pretty uncomfortable talking [to family] about his life flashing before his eyes."

Mike London was a member of Al Groh's original UVa staff in 2001 and served four seasons before joining the NFL's Houston Texans as defensive-line coach in 2005.

When the Texans changed head coaches that season, London returned to Charlottesville as defensive coordinator.

On media day that year, reporters were surprised to see London wearing an earring -- maybe the same earring he had been given permission to wear as an undercover detective. He said that he was wearing it as a tribute to his daughter, Ticynn, who had battled Fanconi anemia, a condition that results in bone-marrow failure.

After being told that the odds of a parent being a match were 10,000-to-1, London was told he could be a marrow donor for his daughter. Once it was transplanted, Ticynn went into full remission.

"People say I'm energetic; they say I'm optimistic," said London, who has involved his players in subsequent blood drives. "I've been blessed with my life being spared and I've been blessed with my daughter's being spared, with me as a vehicle.

"With the opportunities I've been given, why not do the same?"