Giants" Coach Tom Coughlin Set in Ways, Because They Work EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. - The notion that coaches in the N.F.L. have job security has always been something of a misconception. Positions are few. Expectations are high. Careers are short. And, generally, one can expect the current prevailing sentiment about a coach's performance - whatever that sentiment might be - to have all the staying power of rent money. Tom Coughlin is only the latest example. Over the last month, he has been probed and prodded, his résumé laid bare for examination by fans and talk-show hosts and the news media. The scrutiny, at times, has bordered on hysterical, which makes it not all that different from any other moment during Coughlin's tenure. Such is life in New York show business, though, a fact that Coughlin, 65, has learned well over the past eight years. He knows that trying to keep up with the varying temperature changes of a coach's hot seat is an exercise in futility, and that was why, late Sunday after the Giants beat the Dallas Cowboys, he demurred when asked if he took any personal satisfaction in the Giants" latest N.F.C. East title. "It is not a time for reflection," he said. When pressed a second time by a reporter, who then laid out all the reasons why Coughlin might be pleased, he almost scoffed. "Thank you for recapping," he said. It was a telling exchange, a sliver of window into the vault surrounding Coughlin's psyche. For while Coughlin may refuse to acknowledge the personal significance of the coda to the Giants" regular season, that does not mean that none exists. It must. And it does. The Giants" second-half swoons under Coughlin have been well chronicled, and after the Giants lost their fourth game in a row on Dec. 4, there was little reason to think this season would be any different. All the ingredients were there. The Giants had injuries. They had inconsistency. As the final month played out, there was even a hint of locker-room unrest (though, to be fair, it was always more a passing head cold than the full-on flu that appears to have leveled the Jets). Still, Coughlin weathered it. One of the most common criticisms leveled at him is that as the oldest coach in the N.F.L., he has lost the ability to relate to players - that he cannot connect, on a visceral level, with the young behemoths who might see him as less an authority figure and more as a disconnected grandpa struggling to figure out when these dang DVDs replaced good old-fashioned 8-millimeter game film. But it has not happened. The Giants players still respond to Coughlin's techniques and often find a more personal connection with him, despite the knowledge that he is, in fact, a grandfather (10 times over). Even the loquacious safety Antrel Rolle - who a year ago essentially made the argument in a radio interview that Coughlin was living in the past - acknowledged as much, praising Coughlin for steadying the Giants before their season toppled over. Rolle added that hearing speculation about Coughlin's job status inspired the players because of their devotion to him. "He's the boss man and we are his soldiers," Rolle told reporters Monday. I have many different reasons why I play the game as hard as I do, and I'll be honest to say, one of them is Coach Coughlin. He added: "I know I'm not the only one feeling this way." Given that Coughlin and Rolle - who called himself "stubborn" and "not an easy cookie" - have butted heads more than once, Rolle's words had gravity. Coughlin's fanatical attention to detail (the clocks at the Giants" training center are set five minutes fast) and unyielding discipline (players who miss curfew are benched) have become famous around the league, but starting in 2007 Coughlin made a conscious effort to soften himself a bit around the edges. This year, he somewhat grudgingly modified his rigorous training camp schedule to allow for rust caused by the lockout. He did not shout down his more outspoken charges, like Rolle and Brandon Jacobs, when they vented in the news media. He smiled more. He also showed a self-deprecating side. After being knocked down by a pile of players on the sideline during the victory over the Jets, Coughlin limped into the locker room and told the players he would be in for treatment right along with them the next afternoon. "No toughness, no championship," several players said, repeating a well-worn piece of Coughlin hickory, and the coach laughed along with them. Ultimately, it is impossible to know the exact amount of credit Coughlin deserves for the fact that the Giants are playing some of their best football of the season at the most important time. All that can be known for sure is that they are: the offense, which averaged 24.6 points per game all season, scored 60 over the last two games. The defense, which allowed 24 points per game, yielded only 28 combined to the Jets and the Cowboys. Coughlin is the leader, which means - in this city and this league - he must wear an ever-changing label. Two weeks ago, he was in trouble, seen by many as a coaching geriatric. By Tuesday he was a genius again, his job security - such as it is - seemingly assured for another year, no matter the result of Sunday's wild-card-round game against the Atlanta Falcons. If that seems maddening and circular, it is because it is. But it is also reality. That was why Coughlin shrugged off the feel-good questions Sunday night and why he did it again Monday at his news conference, quickly pivoting the attention back to his players and to what they have accomplished. It is his way and always will be, even now, when the glow from Sunday's win is still warm. Coughlin will not linger, not even for a moment. He has been around. He knows better.