Monday, January 31, 2011

Elway's Redemption



Since the Packers are going to play in this weekend's Super Bowl, it seems only fitting to reflect a little on the career of the only quarterback to defeat Green Bay in one — John Elway.

I was never really sure how I felt about Elway the football player, but I know I didn't care much for him as a person through most of his playing career.

In a way, I guess, I felt that he was an elitist, a pretty boy, that he had always had things handed to him — and, when it wasn't handed to him, he pitched a fit until he got his way.

Put it all together, I suppose my conclusion was that he was overrated.

That wasn't fair, but consider my reasoning:
  • He played his college ball for Stanford, one of the most prestigious private research universities in the nation.

  • He was the #1 draft pick in 1983, but he didn't want to play for the team that picked him — the Baltimore Colts — so he was traded to Denver.

    He had lobbied for that trade, and the Colts capitulated.

  • Many players have to toil for years in the NFL before they make it to a Super Bowl. Some never make it at all.

    Others are far more fortunate. They get that far early and often in their careers, and Elway was one of them. He played in three Super Bowls before he was 30.
But he lost all three, and each loss was more spectacular than the one before.

Elway's first Super Bowl was against the New York Giants after he had led the Broncos in "The Drive," an epic 98–yard, game–tying drive in the fourth quarter of the AFC Championship game.

The margin of that Super Bowl was crushing (19 points), but the truth was that, of the two starting quarterbacks who played in that game, Phil Simms of New York was much better than Elway. How could anyone conclude otherwise? Simms completed nearly 90% of his passes.

You could debate which one had the better career — but, on that day, it was no contest.

But that was nothing compared to what awaited Elway and the Broncos the following year.

Denver actually jumped to a 10–0 lead in the first quarter, but the wheels came off in the second quarter as the Washington Redskins scored five unanswered touchdowns and went on to win the game by 32 points.

Once again, it was another quarterback who had the better day by far — Doug Williams of the Redskins.

Denver didn't return to the Super Bowl the next year, but the Broncos were back the year after that. I remember thinking during those playoffs that, if Elway did return to the Super Bowl, it couldn't possibly be any worse for him on that day than it had been against the Giants and the Redskins.

But I was wrong — because waiting for Elway and the Broncos was none other than the juggernaut of the 1980s, the San Francisco 49ers and their all–everything quarterback, Joe Montana.

Montana surgically took apart the Broncos and handed them the worst Super Bowl setback ever.

I remember watching that game and actually admiring Elway's gumption.

Have you ever noticed how some players cease to become factors in the game when something goes wrong? On that day, I saw several Broncos who seemed to check out mentally as the avalanche began.

Many of them had been through those losses to the Giants and Redskins, and they were conditioned for defeat on the big stage. When signs of it seemed to be popping up, they accepted their fate.

That isn't how Elway was wired.

Long after it was clear to just about anyone who had eyes to see that the game was done, he was giving everything he had — as if the Broncos still had a chance to win.

By that time, I had mostly given up on the game and I remember watching the commercials with a lot more interest. An ongoing commercial theme that day centered on a small town in Alaska. The residents of the town, as I recall, had been divided into 49ers supporters and Broncos supporters by McDonald's, which had promised special prices on its hamburgers to the winners.

It was all a gimmick, of course, intended to promote temporary hamburger prices. But there was nothing temporary about the wandering in the wilderness that Elway and the Broncos did for the next eight years.

I am not a Broncos fan, and, I must admit, I seldom gave Elway much thought in those years. But, when I did, I tended to wonder if he would ever return to a Super Bowl.

He came close a few times. But he didn't return until Jan. 25, 1998, when he was 37 years old and everyone watching the game knew he was nearing the end of his career.

Elway had quite a challenge facing him that day — the defending Super Bowl champion Green Bay Packers, who were led by one of the younger breed of quarterbacks in the NFL.

Elway was part of the old guard, and this, many people felt, might be his last chance. He was determined not to waste it, and he showed his desire on a scamper near the end zone late in the game. He didn't score on the play, but he got the first down, and the Broncos went on to score shortly thereafter — and won the game.

(Ain't it funny how things turn out? That wasn't Elway's last Super Bowl after all. But it did turn out to be the last one for that young gunslinger for the Packers, Brett Favre.)

Elway returned to the Super Bowl the following year, leading Denver to another triumph, securing his only Super Bowl MVP Award and capping a memorable career. He retired a few months later, leaving behind a considerable legacy.

In addition to his many single–season and career achievements:
  • He is the only quarterback to start in five Super Bowls.

  • He is one of only two men to score rushing touchdowns in four different Super Bowls.

  • And Elway, who was 38 years old when he played in the 1999 Super Bowl, holds the record for being the oldest quarterback to win one.
I probably wouldn't have said this when he was still playing, but he showed me a lot during his career.

He showed me that he was more than a pretty boy. He was a talented quarterback who wanted to win but didn't always have all the weapons he needed.

I don't think Elway was the greatest quarterback ever to play the game. There are a few others I would pick before I would pick him.

But he deserves to be mentioned in the conversation.

Friday, January 28, 2011

A Rivalry Like No Other



This year's Super Bowl is a little more than a week away.

The Super Bowl has been played every year for nearly 50 years, usually in southerly, sun–splashed climes. It's been played often in California, New Orleans, Miami, and it is not a complete stranger to Texas. It was played in Houston twice.

This year, however, it will be played in Dallas — for the first time.

Lately, the folks in Irving and Dallas have been unrolling all their new facilities and vehicles and gadgets that are intended to accommodate the needs and desires of visitors in town for the big game — and earn local entrepreneurs a neat profit in the process.

Back in the summer and into the early fall, North Texans harbored hopes that the Dallas Cowboys might host their own Super Bowl, but those hopes were dashed rather rapidly.

I figure that, in the long run, that will be good news for local merchants, who are counting on the revenue from visitors from two cities. If the local team had made it to the Super Bowl, logic tells me that approximately half of the out–of–town visitors would have been eliminated.

So it's a good thing for all those folks who want to make money from this — especially the ones who run the hotels and the motels, who would have lost the income from all those out–of–towners who will need rooms for several days.

People are always going to have to eat, even if they're from a nearby community and only in town on the day of the game, so restaurateurs wouldn't have been affected quite as severely, but they, too, would have had to lower their expectations.

But the Cowboys went into a tailspin early. Between the Cowboys' and the Longhorns' declines, football dropped from sports fans' radars around here, and, remarkably, the sports talk in this area in October did not focus on football but on baseball, as the Rangers advanced to their first–ever World Series.

I grew up in Arkansas. I have lived in this area for most of the last 25 years. Until a few months ago, I never thought I would see a time during football season when baseball was the leading topic of conversation, but that is exactly what happened here.

It was gratifying for baseball fans, but it often felt, to me, as if the natural order of things had been disrupted.

There have been times when it's felt like one of those alternate reality episodes from the Twilight Zone. It was astonishing to witness the vacuum that was created when the Cowboys and the Longhorns crashed to earth. Talk about tumbling into a black hole.

Only recently, it seems, have people around here remembered that they were going to have a Super Bowl here in early February. It is almost as if the plan to host a Super Bowl locally depended upon whether the Cowboys would be in it — and, when it became clear that the Cowboys would not be in the playoffs, the right to host the Super Bowl defaulted to some other city.

It's probably going to be a good thing for the economy that Cowboys Stadium (known locally as Jerry World for Cowboys owner Jerry Jones) will host two cities, but I can't help thinking of what might have been.

Assuming that everything else would have been unchanged — if the Cowboys had been the NFC's representative in the Super Bowl, who would have been waiting for them from the AFC? None other than the Pittsburgh Steelers — and, if you've been following football as long as I have (or longer), you know what magic that matchup conjures up in one's mind.

There are all sorts of rivalries in football, but the Dallas–Pittsburgh rivalry in the Super Bowl is unique. I guess you could say it's been a rivalry of milestones.

It began 35 years ago, on Jan. 18, 1976, when the teams met in Super Bowl X. The Cowboys, as I mentioned earlier this week, became the first wild–card team to play in a Super Bowl on that day, but the Steelers won the game, 21–17.

Even if you aren't old enough to remember that day, if you've watched any Super Bowl highlights shows in the last 35 years, you're all but sure to have seen Lynn Swann's amazing acrobatic catch from that game.

Some folks will tell you it was the greatest catch ever made in pro football.

Then, three years later, on Jan. 21, 1979, the teams met in the first–ever Super Bowl rematch.

Superstitious people tend to be wary of the number 13, but Super Bowl XIII was far from unlucky for football fans. Not only was it the first rematch of a Super Bowl, but it would also mark the first time that a team won its third Super Bowl title, no matter who won the game.

Once again, the Steelers were victorious. The final score was 35–31, and, as one weekly newsmagazine declared in its headline on its game story, "This one really was Super."

Part of what made it super was a fantastic fourth–quarter comeback by Dallas that was brilliantly captured in NFL Films' wrapup, which can be seen above.

In hindsight, that game featured many of the greatest football players of my youth — Terry Bradshaw, Roger Staubach, Tony Dorsett, Franco Harris, etc., etc. But the play that will always stand out in my memory is of Jackie Smith, a tight end who played much of his career for woeful St. Louis Cardinals teams, dropping a pass in the end zone that could have altered the outcome.

I think everyone watching the game, whether they were pulling for the Steelers or the Cowboys, felt bad for Smith, writhing in agony in the Orange Bowl end zone after dropping that pass.

"Bless his heart," I remember an announcer saying, "he's got to be the sickest man in America."

It took nearly 20 years, but the Cowboys finally got their revenge in Super Bowl XXX, which was played 15 years ago today. It really wasn't a surprise. Dallas went into that game favored by nearly two touchdowns.

With that victory, the Cowboys pulled even with the San Francisco 49ers in total Super Bowl victories with five. At that time, the Steelers had won only the Super Bowls in which they played in the 1970s — their two wins over Dallas along with wins over Minnesota and Los Angeles. Pittsburgh has won two Super Bowls since that time and now leads all other teams in that category with six Super Bowl titles.

It was also the first time that a football team won its third Super Bowl in four years. That's an accomplishment that has been matched only by the New England Patriots.

Steeler fans probably don't like to think about that game too much. Pittsburgh has been to seven Super Bowls, more than any other team, and the one they played in 15 years ago today was their only loss — so far.

As a Packer fan, I hope that will not still be the case a week from Sunday.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Wide Right



In terms of food consumption in America, only Thanksgiving tops Super Bowl Sunday.

And that makes sense, when you consider how many Super Bowl parties are held every year all across the country. People get together and eat chips, dip, wings, burgers, pizza, brats, nachos, you name it. One year, I went to a co–worker's house to watch the game, and he served brisket to his guests. Man, was it good!

For some people, Super Bowl Sunday really is about crowning a pro football champion. But for many, I fear, it has become a de facto holiday for gluttony.

Only two cities are directly involved in a Super Bowl, of course, but the game has transcended the boundary of sports championship and become an event.

I know some people who don't care for football, but they watch the Super Bowl for the commercials. I even have one friend who records the game every year. He and his wife go out for dinner, maybe see a movie, while the game is being played. Then, after they return home and the game is over, he fast–forwards through the game and watches the commercials.

How many other things can you think of — for that matter, is there anything else — that some people watch strictly for the commercials?

I'll have more to say about the Super Bowl, I'm sure, when this year's edition, in the still–so–new–you–can–probably–still–smell–the–paint Cowboys Stadium in nearby Arlington, is about to kick off.

But today I just want to reflect on one — the Super Bowl that was played 20 years ago today in Tampa Stadium, known as "The Big Sombrero" for its shape, which was demolished more than a decade ago.

(I say that, incidentally, just to give you an idea of where the game was being played. The location doesn't really play any other kind of role in this story.)

I don't know when the Super Bowl became the occasion for massive social get–togethers that it has become. Until I was in high school, I watched most Super Bowls at home with my family, sometimes with a few neighborhood friends. Since my college years, I have been to a few Super Bowl parties.

There have been several reasons why I haven't been to very many Super Bowl parties in my life.

In some years, I didn't go to Super Bowl parties because I was working on the sports staff of a metropolitan newspaper, and most of us had to work on Super Sunday.

Ordinarily, there isn't much else going on on Super Bowl Sunday, and we usually tried to transform the office into a modified football party. Folks brought in dip and chips, other snack foods, soft drinks, and we would watch the game. No cold beer, of course, which might have made the experience more memorable — or perhaps not.

But I remember attending a Super Bowl party on this day 20 years ago — and what was noteworthy about that occasion, what makes it stand out in my memory, is not the fact that I went to a party but the fact that it was one of the most exciting Super Bowls I've ever seen.

Of course, the company with whom I shared that experience was special, too. But what happened on the field is what everyone remembers today.

I've seen most of the Super Bowls, even going back to the time when they didn't call it the Super Bowl. Much of the time, unfortunately, the Super Bowl hasn't lived up to its hype. Most of the time, it's been over by halftime. There was just that formality of playing the final 30 minutes.

But a few Super Bowls have been exciting, and the one that was played on Jan. 27, 1991, certainly was.

I was in graduate school, and Kyle, my classmate, friend and co–worker at the local newspaper, invited me to a Super Bowl party at his house. He, his wife and a friend of theirs had invited me to join them in their annual ritual of predicting weekly NFL games that season, and Kyle's wife and I were tied for the lead going into Super Bowl Sunday.

(By the way, I don't think Kyle and I have ever watched another Super Bowl together, either before or since. But even though we're separated by nearly 1,000 miles now, we'll share a bond or two in this year's Super Bowl. We lived, worked and went to school a short distance from where this year's Super Bowl will be played — and our favorite teams are facing each other. Kyle, you see, is a Steeler fan, and I have always been a Packer fan.)

That party was a fairly intimate gathering, as I recall. Only a handful of us, really. Lynn served a multi–layer Tex–Mex kind of dip — one of those dishes with lots of beans and olives and onions and peppers and cheese and sour cream and salsa and all that tasty stuff — and we all nibbled on it while we watched the game.

Anyway, since we were tied for the lead, Lynn and I decided to use the Super Bowl as our tiebreaker. One of us would take one team, the other would take the other team.

Lynn asked me which team I wanted.

I decided to be chivalrous, and I told her to choose.

She took the Buffalo Bills, who were the seven–point favorites. That left me with the New York Giants.

I figured she would be on the winning side. A lot of people did. I don't think anyone — maybe not even the Giants themselves — believed they could stop the Bills' no–huddle offense.

And the Giants' offense, with backup quarterback Jeff Hostetler filling in for the injured Phil Simms, was suspect as well. They were often criticized for failing to score a touchdown in the NFC Championship game — but it was seldom mentioned that the Giants had to beat the two–time defending Super Bowl champions on the road in that game.

Five field goals had been enough to win on that occasion, and that was what it was all about. Winning.

It was ironic, really, that field goals figured so prominently in the Giants' victory in the NFC championship game — because a field goal attempt is what people always remember about Super Bowl XXV.

Buffalo's Scott Norwood came on to attempt a 47–yard field goal in the final seconds that would have won the game for the Bills. But he famously missed the kick and the Giants prevailed.

Last year, just before the Super Bowl, I wrote about an article that I had been reading in TIME about the top 10 Super Bowl moments of all time.

It mentioned Norwood's kick — and I agreed then (and I still agree today) that it belongs on such a list. But the author called it "a kick to forget."

I took issue with that.

"Unless you were a fan of the Buffalo Bills," I wrote, "I don't think I would say that Norwood's kick was one to forget. It was a dramatic moment. The snap was good. It didn't sail over the kicker's head or anything like that. The kicker made a clean kick. No one blocked it. It was long enough. It just didn't go through the uprights."

I can still remember ABC broadcaster Al Michaels exclaiming, "Wide right!" as Norwood's kick sailed a few inches outside the goal post.

That's about the size of it. I've watched replays of that kick many times in the last 20 years. I have yet to see anything that was amiss on that play.

The snap still looks good to me. The kick still looks normal. I haven't even seen anyone on the defense commit a penalty that could have allowed the Bills to try it again.

He just missed it. S**t happens.

I'm sure Norwood doesn't like to be reminded of that kick. He had other achievements in his career. He helped the Bills get to the Super Bowl for the first time. He became their leading scorer, eclipsing O.J. Simpson.

But he is remembered for that one field goal attempt in Tampa 20 years ago today. It truly lives in infamy.

It has become a cultural flash point, of sorts. It served as the inspiration for an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond in which Raymond and Debra, while celebrating their wedding anniversary, decided to watch the video tape of their wedding — only to discover that Ray had accidentally taped over it.

He had taped Super Bowl XXV.

Debra sat there, stunned. "Did you hit something?" she demanded.

"No, it's still going," he replied.

"Then why am I seeing football?" she asked.

And a fight ensued that seemed to mark the beginning of the end for their marriage. But Ray wasn't giving in that easily.

To make it up to her, Ray went to elaborate lengths so they could renew their vows. Naturally, some people were curious about why they were renewing their vows, and Ray confessed that he had taped over their wedding video.

After the ceremony, Ray, the priest and most of the men sat down to watch the tape of the game. Some of them ranted about what a great game it had been.

As I recall, one of the characters — it might have been the priest — said he had never seen the ending. He had only heard about it, and he was excited to finally be seeing it.

The punch line was that somehow Ray's recording of the game stopped just before Norwood's kick — and the tape was showing the wedding footage again.

(That was funny but bewildering — for a couple of reasons, which I will explore briefly. For one, most football games take more than three hours to play, and Super Bowls usually go longer because of the lengthy halftime shows and the additional commercial time that is sold. When was the last wedding ceremony you attended that went for 3½ hours?

(Second, it was never really explained how the recording stopped. Perhaps the writers should have had Ray say something like, "Oh, yeah, now I remember. So–and–so accidentally hit the button on the VCR, and it stopped taping just before Norwood's kick!")

I'm sure Norwood wishes he could erase the memory of that kick as easily. But he's linked to it forever now. I predict that, whenever he dies, the first paragraph of his obituary will say, "Scott Norwood, whose missed field goal in Super Bowl XXV cost the Buffalo Bills a world championship, died ..."

It will be that way even if he wins the Nobel Prize. That might not be mentioned until the second paragraph.

S**t happens. Kickers miss field goals. Some husbands accidentally erase wedding videos.

Deal with it. Have some dip.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Ditka's Disgrace



Yesterday, I wrote about the 30th anniversary of the first wild card to win a Super Bowl — and I suggested that it might have been appropriate if the Jets had won the AFC title on Sunday because that would have put two wild–card teams in this year's Super Bowl.

But it might have been more appropriate if the Chicago Bears had beaten the Green Bay Packers for the NFC title.

(That isn't an easy thing for me to say, being a lifelong Green Bay fan. But hear me out on this one.)

It was a quarter of a century ago today that the Chicago Bears played in their first Super Bowl. Their opponents were the New England Patriots — and, while it is probably hard for the current generation to believe, that was the Patriots' first Super Bowl, too.

Football fans had rarely seen two teams playing in their first Super Bowl at the same time. Granted, the most recent such game had been only a few years earlier, when the San Francisco 49ers faced the Cincinnati Bengals. But it had only happened twice before that — when Broadway Joe followed through on his famous "guarantee" in Super Bowl III and in the very first Super Bowl (when it was a sure thing that both teams were making their first appearance).

There was never a chance of a team appearing in its first Super Bowl this time. But, until Sunday, there was a chance that the Bears might be able to celebrate the 25th anniversary of their first trip to the big game with a return trip.

It wouldn't have been the Bears' first trip back to the Super Bowl since that day in January 1986. They made it back to the Super Bowl a few years ago — and lost to the Colts.

Even so, it would have made an interesting story line — not that the Super Bowl ever lacks for interesting story lines. In fact, sometimes the story lines have been better than the games themselves.

For awhile, it was even possible that the Bears and the Patriots could mark the anniversary with a rematch. But that possibility ended when the Jets defeated the Patriots in the divisional round.

It remained possible — for a week — that the Bears could observe their silver anniversary with an appearance in Dallas. The odds of that happening dwindled rapidly after Jay Cutler went down with an injury.

But, really, how could you commemorate that anniversary? It was Walter Payton's only Super Bowl after a career of toiling for mostly bad Bears teams — but he really did nothing special when he got there. He didn't even score a touchdown.

That would be understandable, I suppose, if the game had been a defensive struggle. But the only defense that struggled that day was New England's.

I felt it was disgraceful that Payton didn't score on a day when the Chicago Bears set a Super Bowl scoring record with 46 points.

I guess you could call Payton the consummate professional. While no one could have known that Super Bowl XX would be his only Super Bowl, he had been in the NFL for a decade, and that is a long time for a running back.

Seems to me that any reasonable football fan would have to at least suspect that it would be his only one. And, in fact, Payton only played two more seasons after he went to the Super Bowl. The Bears made the playoffs both years, but they were one and done both times and Payton never scored a touchdown in either of his last two playoff games.

He should have scored a touchdown in Super Bowl XX.

The Bears were deep in New England territory late in the third quarter. Realistically, the game had been over for a long time. Chicago led New England, 37–3.

With the ball at New England's 1–yard line and what amounted to a five–touchdown lead, the Bears were imposing their will. But instead of calling for quarterback Jim McMahon to give it to Payton, coach Mike Ditka chose to go with the novelty act he had unveiled earlier in the season in a Monday night game — in which 300–pound defensive lineman William "The Refrigerator" Perry came in, took the handoff and made his roly–poly way into the end zone.

For a time there in the mid–1980s, the "Fridge," as he was known, became something of a cult hero.

But not to me.

I felt it was shameful that someone like Payton was denied the satisfaction of finally scoring in a Super Bowl. His team was about to do something no team had done before — exceed 40 points in a Super Bowl — and Payton's touchdown would have been the one that made that a reality.

Ditka told a Payton biographer that Payton was the greatest football player he ever saw but an even better human being.

It was too bad he didn't give him the ball from a yard out and let him get his name in the Super Bowl history books for doing more than averaging 2.8 yards per carry that day.

Payton achieved many things in his life, which ended far too soon. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame several years before his death. He ran for more than 100 touchdowns in his professional career, but he refused to celebrate when he scored; he just handed the ball to an official or a teammate and went back to the sideline in his quiet, low–key way.

He was over 30 when he got to the Super Bowl. He had given everything he could to help the Bears get there. He ran for more than 1,500 yards that season but stood back and allowed the others to take the credit.

There were many stars on that team, to be sure. And most of them were given their moment in the spotlight.

But not Payton.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The First Wild Card to Win It All



It might have been appropriate if the New York Jets had won the AFC championship on Sunday.

Why? Well, because it was 30 years ago today that a wild card team first won a Super Bowl.

If the Jets had beaten the Steelers on Sunday, the Super Bowl would have been played between two wild–card teams. I don't think that has ever happened before.

Four other wild–card teams have won Super Bowls since the Raiders did it 30 years ago, and three of them have done so since the dawn of the 21st century.

But, even in 1980, wild cards weren't new to pro football. They had been part of the playoff landscape for a decade by the time the Oakland Raiders defeated the Philadelphia Eagles in New Orleans on Jan. 25, 1981. And a wild card made it to the Super Bowl for the first time five years later.

But until this day 30 years ago, no wild card team had ever won a Super Bowl. The Dallas Cowboys came close back in Super Bowl X (which was also played in New Orleans), but they eventually lost to the Pittsburgh Steelers.

What seemed to surprise people the most about the Super Bowl that was played 30 years ago today was not necessarily the fact that the wild card won it — although that was surprising.

It was the relative ease with which the Raiders cruised to a 14–0 lead at the end of the first quarter — and ultimately prevailed, 27–10. When you consider who they were playing, that was positively stunning.

The Eagles had been one of the NFL's elite teams in the 1980 season, racing to an 11–1 start. Ron Jaworski was the top–ranked quarterback in the NFC. The Eagle defense kept all its opponents from scoring more than 24 points (and held most of their foes under 20) until Dallas scored 35 against Philly on the final day of the regular season.

The Raiders, on the other hand, caught just about everyone by surprise. They had made a lot of changes during the offseason, and I think most observers just wanted to wait and see how all the new parts would function together. They got off to kind of a sluggish start (2–3) and had to deal with the loss of their starting quarterback to a broken leg, but then Jim Plunkett came in, the Raiders won six in a row, and Oakland actually finished tied with San Diego atop their division.

But San Diego was awarded the division crown on a tiebreaker — which meant that, when the teams played for the AFC title, the game was played in San Diego. When they played there in the second week of the season, the Raiders lost in overtime. When the AFC title was on the line, however, Oakland surged to a 21–7 lead in the first quarter and never looked back.

It was more of the same two weeks later when the Raiders and Eagles faced each other in the Super Bowl.

The Eagles came into the game favored by three points. That surprised me because I really felt that most people believed the Eagles would win by a wider margin.

But that, of course, was not what happened.

When the game was over, everyone praised the Raiders' performance — and the Raiders did deserve that praise — but I recall less attention being given to what may well have been Jaworski's worst performance as a pro.

It was certainly his worst performance on a postseason stage. He completed fewer than half of his passes and was intercepted three times.

And by the time he threw his only touchdown pass in a Super Bowl, the Raiders had built a 24–3 fourth–quarter lead.

It was the greatest defeat, I have no doubt, of Jaworski's career.

But the flip side was that it must have been the pinnacles of the careers of the many castoffs whose careers were revived by Al Davis. The Raiders' bombastic owner picked up guys like Plunkett, Kenny King, John Matuszak and many others who asked only to be given a chance to prove that they could still contribute.

Plunkett threw three touchdown passes — two to Cliff Branch and one to King that covered 80 yards, a record that still stands. He was named the game's MVP.

What became of the team that cut Plunkett earlier in 1980? Well, I guess you could say they did all right.

That would be the San Francisco 49ers, An up–and–coming quarterback named Joe Montana emerged as their quarterback in 1980 and wound up taking San Francisco to — and winning — four Super Bowls in the '80s — starting the next year.

But that's another story.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

The Renewal of a Passionate Rivalry



Tomorrow afternoon, the Chicago Bears and the Green Bay Packers will face each other in Chicago with the NFC championship on the line.

Now, there are many rivalries in the NFL. None are as old as the Bears and the Packers, who have been playing each other twice a year for the last 90 years. Given their history, you might think they had faced each other in the playoffs several times, but this will be only the second time they have met in the postseason.

To remember that other playoff game, you would have to be old enough to remember Pearl Harbor.

I was talking with my father on Thursday, and I observed that it was the 50th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's inaugural address, in which Kennedy uttered his famous line, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country."

We talked a little about famous presidential speeches, and Dad mentioned that he remembered listening to FDR's "day of infamy" speech the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor. That speech was given the Monday before Green Bay and Chicago last met in the postseason.

In those days, as I wrote last month, NFL championships were played between the teams who won their respective divisions (or conferences, as they were called for a time).

Usually, there were no other playoffs — unless there was a tie atop one or both of the divisions. Then there would be a playoff game between the teams who tied for a division title (even if one of the teams had swept the regular–season series between the two), and the winner would advance to the championship game.

That was how Green Bay and Chicago, always members of the same conference/division, wound up playing each other following the conclusion of the 1941 season. Both teams went 10–1, splitting their regular–season series, so they met on Dec. 14, 1941 at Chicago's Wrigley Field to break the tie.

At the time, there was no such thing as a "wild card" in the playoffs. That was a concept that wasn't really introduced until nearly 30 years later.

Even so, wild cards have been a part of the postseason in pro football for the last 40 years — ever since the merger of the AFL and NFL. In some years, the playoff structure has allowed two wild card teams in each conference.

Both Green Bay and Chicago have been in the playoffs as divisional champions and wild cards. But in all those years, this is only the second time that both teams have qualified for the playoffs in the same season.

That other time was nine years ago, when the New England Patriots upset the St. Louis Rams in the Super Bowl. Both the Packers and Bears lost in the divisional round of the playoffs. If both had won, they would have faced each other for the NFC title — 60 years after their last playoff meeting.

But that did not happen.

Even though the teams have not played each other for a championship before, the rivalry is as heated as any you'll find in the NFL. The mere mention of the Packers and the Bears to a true pro football fan ought to conjure up images of Vince Lombardi and George Halas prowling the sidelines, Dick Butkus sacking Bart Starr before the NFL was even keeping track of that particular statistic, Ray Nitschke tackling Gale Sayers, games played in the mud and the snow and the bitter cold.

This isn't your father's football. This is your grandfather's football, played the way it used to be played. Leather helmets, I heard someone say this week, will be optional.

I remember hearing a story from one day in the 1960s when the Bears and Packers faced each other. Halas came to the Packers' locker room door prior to kickoff and was stopped by security. He protested that he had to see Lombardi. It was urgent.

The message was relayed to Lombardi, who came to the door to see what Halas needed to talk to him about.

Halas said, "Vince, I just want to tell you that you'd better have your boys ready to play. Because we're going to kick your ass!"

And Halas turned around and walked back to his locker room.

I don't know what, if anything, was on the line that day — other than pride and bragging rights. In the Bears–Packers rivalry, that's usually enough.

When they started calling the division in which the Packers and Bears compete the "Black and Blue Division," they really knew what they were talking about. It's a rivalry that has always been capable of stirring fierce passions.

Oddly, though, the newspapers in the two cities seem to have been falling all over themselves to be respectful of each other. Even when they're teasing.

Frankly, I'm a little disappointed. I expected more, I guess.
  • Mark Konkol of the Chicago Sun–Times tells readers that the Bears' quarterback's father is a "cheesehead" — which is, of course, the nickname that is often used for Packer fans.

    "Don't worry," he tells his readers. "It's not what you think." And it isn't.

  • Cheryl Jackson reports in the Sun–Times that Chicago watering holes anticipate the kind of business they normally don't enjoy at this time of year.

    And it's hard to argue with that. With daytime highs expected to be in the teens and Chicago's legendary fickle, swirling winds on hand as always, you need something to get people to brave the elements — assuming they don't have tickets to the game.

  • Rex Huppke and Gerry Smith, using some clever wordplay in the Chicago Tribune, manage to capture some of the animosity — but none of what Hunter Thompson might have called the fear and loathing — that exists between Chicago and Green Bay.

    "Chicagoans stand united," write Huppke and Smith, "Packtose intolerant, loathers of cheese in all its forms, sneering as often as possible in the direction of those green and gold neighbors to the north."

    It is truly, as they observe, a rivalry like no other. Actually, it's a way of life.

  • Maybe the most critical thing I have seen from journalists in either town in the last week has come from Pete Dougherty of the Green Bay Press–Gazette, who asserts that the pressure to win now is on the Bears because of their age.

    But that's simply a statement of fact. "[L]ooking to the future," he writes, "Chicago Bears General Manager Jerry Angelo needs to draft unusually well starting this year to remain a title contender."

    The Packers, on the other hand, are locked and loaded for the next several years, Dougherty says, and I think he is right.
But ...

C'mon, guys! This is football! This is Green Bay–Chicago!

Where's the contempt?

Monday, January 17, 2011

The Stupor Bowl



In the early years of the Super Bowl, the winner tended to be known pretty early in the game.

Sometimes the score alone told you how lopsided the game had been. Sometimes the score appeared to be competitive, but if you had watched the game, you knew how deceptive that kind of appearance could be.

Super Bowl V, which was played between the Baltimore Colts and the Dallas Cowboys on this day in Miami 40 years ago, went right down to the wire.

I don't remember if I knew the Super Bowl would be played that day. I probably did. I was collecting football cards in those days, and I may have known.

But if I did know it was Super Bowl Sunday, I probably expected to watch the game with my father and maybe a few of the neighborhood kids, with whom I recall playing a game of touch football on our country road upon my family's return from church.

In those days, Super Bowls, like more than 90% of pro football games at that time, were played during the daylight hours. I don't remember what time the game began, but you can tell, in the attached clip, that the sun was shining brightly when Jim O'Brien's last–second field goal won the game for Baltimore so my best guess is that the game must have kicked off around 1 or 2 p.m. Central time.

My father was a college professor, and on that day, some of his students came over. In hindsight, I can only presume that my parents invited them over. My father had recently purchased a color television, and I guess he wanted to show it off a little.

At the time, though, I'm not sure what I thought. My brother and I were acquainted with many of my father's students. They had been to our home before to help my father landscape our property.

My father taught religion which required him to be ordained; as such, he sometimes performed the marriage ceremonies for his students, and it seems to me that perhaps one or two of the couples he married were there that day.

Perhaps my mother served snacks to the visitors, but I have no memory of that. I certainly don't remember anything like a party, just a group of people gathered in our living room to watch the football game. It wasn't a terribly large living room, either.

The neighborhood kids and I joined my parents and the guests to watch the game, which was sloppy but close. How sloppy was it? The two teams combined for nearly a dozen turnovers, setting a Super Bowl record. Seven of those turnovers were made by the winning team, setting a record for a winning squad. The Cowboys committed 10 penalties, yet another record.

Most of the time, the Super Bowl MVP award goes to an offensive player — often a quarterback although it has sometimes gone to a running back or a wide receiver. In fact, the first four Super Bowl MVPs were all quarterbacks.

But Super Bowl V was an exception. It was the first of only seven times that a defensive player won the award.

And it is the only time that a member of the losing team won the award.

Maybe that's the real penalty you pay for committing seven turnovers and still winning the game. You must forfeit the MVP. But the truth was that no one on the Colts, not even the great Johnny Unitas, played well enough to be recognized as the most valuable player.

Not surprisingly, some folks dubbed the game the "Stupor Bowl."

Mom might well have served something that afternoon. She often entertained guests in our home and frequently served things she had prepared herself. I was particularly fond of mini–meatballs she made and served in a kind of barbecue sauce.

Cooking was just one of her many talents — but that's another story.

I can't say that I remember if there were any such snacks in the house that afternoon. If there were, I probably gave them no more thought than I did on any other occasion when there were people in the house.

And, in four decades, I can't really say I've given much more thought than that to Super Bowl V. Today, I remember only two things clearly about that game — Jim O'Brien's last–second, game–winning field goal from a rather pedestrian distance of 32 yards, and the Cowboys and Colts swarming after a loose football that kept squirting away from everyone in a play that looked more like a slapstick routine than a clip from a champioinship game.

As I understand it, the Colts' Bubba Smith still refuses to wear the ring he won that day because he was so embarrassed by the team's performance. It's the only Super Bowl ring he won during his playing days, but he won't wear it. I doubt that anyone has argued with him about it. He's a big man. Maybe they'll slip the ring on his finger when they're about to bury him.

And Chuck Howley, the only man from a losing team (so far) to win a Super Bowl MVP award, turned it down. I don't know what they'll do with that after Howley passes.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

The 12th Man

Some 24 hours ago, I wrote that the best NFL playoff games this weekend would be played yesterday.

I still feel that was true, and that won't change, even if today's games turn out to be classic cliffhangers.

That Pittsburgh–Baltimore game was a real cliffhanger, wasn't it? And, while the Green Bay–Atlanta game didn't turn out to be close, I think it was a real milestone in the relationship between Green Bay Packer fans and Aaron Rodgers.

When his career is over, I believe football historians will look back on the events of Jan. 15, 2011, and say that was when he really began to assume the role of elite NFL quarterback.

As I have mentioned here frequently, I have been a Green Bay Packers fan since I was a child collecting football cards, and Vince Lombardi was coaching the team.

In hindsight, I suppose I wasn't so different from those who came of age as football fans some five years later, when Miami was the king of the hill. Or a few years later, when the Pittsburgh Steelers were dominating. Or the following decade, when the dynasty was in San Francisco.

And I guess that many of today's young NFL fans have been conditioned to think of the New England Patriots as the modern dynasty — even though it has been a few years since they won it all.

There have been lots of popular teams over the years. Usually, they have been led by the greatest quarterbacks of their era.

And frequently — not always but often — those quarterbacks have worn number 12.

As I watched Rodgers pick apart Atlanta last night, I couldn't help thinking of the great players I remember watching who wore that number.

Sure, number 4 was unique, like Brett Favre, but 12 has always signified a certain steadfastness to me. Roger Staubach wore that number. So did Joe Namath and Terry Bradshaw and Bob Griese and Jim Kelly. The Patriots' fans know Tom Brady wears number 12.

That number almost seems magical to a football fan. Twelve, of course, is only one more than the number of players on each side in a football game. Consequently, there is a tendency to speak of one's home fans as the "12th man" in recognition of their efforts to boost their team's morale.

It's a tradition that goes back nearly 90 years, and it originated at Texas A&M. Various NFL teams have used it over the years, but most don't use it anymore. They were discouraged primarily because A&M owns the trademark on the phrase, and they were concerned about litigation.

Ironically, two teams who will meet today — the Chicago Bears and the Seattle Seahawks — were among those who used it in the past and still use it — or a variation — today.

The Seahawks continue to use it. They settled out of court with A&M, and, if next week's NFC championship game is played in Seattle, you will undoubtedly hear references to Seattle's "12th man."

The Bears, on the other hand, stopped referring to their fans as the "12th man." They call their fans the "Fourth Phase." The logic is that the first three phases of football are offense, defense and special teams.

It's kinda the same thing. Anyway, if you hear "Fourth Phase" mentioned this afternoon, that's the background — in a nutshell.

There was a time, I have been told, when the Packers, like several other NFL franchises, used the "12th Man" reference. It was kind of the hot football–related phrase for awhile, sort of like "friendly confines" in baseball.

And I guess that was OK by Packer fans. Since the Lombardi days, it always seemed to Packer fans that number 12 was worn either by backups or starters who never seemed to live up to their hype. Bart Starr wore number 15, then a couple of decades went by before Favre arrived.

They are the only two quarterbacks to lead the Packers to the brink of a Super Bowl. There have been other quarterbacks who came to Green Bay and much was expected from them — guys like Lynn Dickey and Don Majkowski come to mind, but there were others. They all fell short. I guess there was a considerable gap between the potential and the reality.

But that will change next Sunday. There is no such gap with Rodgers.

The Packers will be led this time by an honest–to–god "12th Man" — and he seems to be at the top of his game.

It ought to be fun.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Weekend's Best Games Set for Today

It seems to be this way every year.

Once we get past the wild–card playoff weekend and the top two seeds in each conference rejoin the rest of the postseason field for divisional playoff weekend, there is always one game — or one day — that stands out.

Last year, the high point on divisional playoff weekend — at least before the weekend began — probably was the Dallas–Minnesota game. But I guess Dallas didn't show up that day. Minnesota rolled to a 34–3 victory.

The year before, it seems to me the marquee matchup was Philadelphia against the defending Super Bowl champion New York Giants. In January 2008, there were two big attractions, one in each league — Colts–Chargers in the AFC, Cowboys and Giants in the NFC. A year earlier, it was the Colts–Ravens.

Sometimes these games lived up to grand expectations and produced Super Bowl champions or runners–up. Other times, the winners didn't amount to much. They just went on and collapsed in the next round.

But, on that second weekend of the playoffs, those games stood out from the rest.

This year, I see two games on divisional playoff weekend that look like they have the potential to produce Super Bowl teams — and they're both today.

Neither matchup on today's schedule holds any surprises for either participant. The Ravens and Steelers will be meeting for the third time. The Packers and Falcons will be meeting for the second time. All three of those games were decided by a single score.
  • Baltimore (13-4) at Pittsburgh (12-4), 3:30 p.m. (Central) on CBS.

    There are so many variables in this game.

    Peter King of Sports Illustrated thinks this one could come down to the kickers, and he makes a good point. He observes that five of the last seven games between these two teams have been decided by a field goal, but Heinz Field in Pittsburgh is "a Bermuda Triangle for kickers."

    Clearly, something has gotta give.

    This is a pretty heated rivalry — in its current incarnation — but a lot of people seem to forget that this rivalry is a lot older than the decade or so the Ravens have been competing.

    Before the Ravens played in Baltimore, they were called the Cleveland Browns. That team that's been playing in Cleveland lately and calling itself the Browns? It's a substitute, not the original.

    I guess I could write an entire article — or two or three — on how absurd I think it was for the NFL to shift an entire franchise from a city only to award it a new one a few years later — with the same name and uniform and everything.

    But, in the end, the NFL really had no choice, did it? Owner Art Modell wanted to relocate the Browns to Baltimore. Preventing him from doing so would amount to restricting free enterprise, wouldn't it?

    Now, I was always a little peeved about how the Colts slithered away in the dead of night, leaving football fans in Baltimore high and dry. I felt those fans deserved a team, but I never wanted Baltimore to be given another city's team in compensation.

    In the interest of fairness (as well as perhaps trying to avoid a repeat of the Colts episode), giving the football fans in Cleveland a new team to replace the one it had lost was the only thing the NFL could do, I guess.

    And it is worth remembering that the NFL didn't "take away" Cleveland's franchise, either. That was Modell's doing.

    Anyway, once the NFL restored a franchise to Cleveland, the rivalry was renewed. But it's never really been what it was. I guess the folks in the two cities have remained rivals; they're only a couple of hours apart, anyway. But they have met 24 times since a team calling itself the Browns returned to the city, and the Steelers have won all by four, many by ridiculous margins.

    It's been a different story against Baltimore. The teams split their two games this season. The visiting team won both games, and the winning margin in both instances was three points.

    They split their games last year, too, and Pittsburgh swept the season series in 2008. The Steelers made it 3–0 against the Ravens that year when they beat Baltimore for the AFC title.

    But the two teams split their games in 2007, and the Ravens swept the Steelers in 2006. The teams split their series in 2005, 2004 and 2003.

    It is one of the most competitive rivalries in the modern NFL. Sometimes the games have gone into overtime; often, they have been decided by a single score.

    Based on the outcomes of the two regularly scheduled games this season, it is reasonable to think that today's rubber match will be decided by a single score as well.

    I'm sure that would be just fine for the Ravens, who have won six in a row since they lost to Pittsburgh at home in early December and would no doubt like to repeat their October victory in Pittsburgh.

    And, if the season pattern is duplicated this afternoon, the visiting team will beat the home team by a field goal. But, on what figures to be a windy and snowy afternoon, the kickers for both teams might be struggling.

    Can the Ravens do it?

    Well, let's see.

    When Baltimore has the ball: The Ravens were 14th in the NFL in rushing yards and 17th in passing yards, which might give you an idea of their strategy for acquiring yardage, but they might shift gears when they're in scoring range. Baltimore was more effective scoring through the air than on the ground this season.

    Consequently, you might see Ray Price pounding away in the middle of the field, but you might see Joe Flacco throwing to Anquan Boldin, Derrick Mason or Todd Heap whenever the Ravens are in the red zone.

    In fact, JJ Cooper over at Fanhouse writes that pressuring Flacco is the key for Pittsburgh today. Cooper observes that the Steelers dramatically reduced Flacco's yards–per–pass average "when the Steelers got a man into Flacco's face" in those two earlier games.

    Is it necessary for the Steelers to sack Flacco a lot? I don't think so. It's important for the Ravens to protect their quarterback, of course, On average, he was only sacked twice per game this season. And it could only help Pittsburgh's cause if Flacco is sacked several times.

    But the pressure alone seems sufficient to me.

    When the Steelers weren't putting pressure on the Ravens, Cooper points out, they were getting nearly 10 yards per pass. And when your air defense is that vulnerable, you may try to compensate by redeploying players who ordinarily would be guarding against the run.

    That's when Price, a solid but not always spectacular runner, could be quite dangerous.

    As far as some people are concerned, Baltimore's offense holds the key to the game. Joe Starkey of the Pittsburgh Tribune–Review points out that the Ravens have long had a reputation for a great defense, but their Super Bowl dreams in the last 10 years have been thwarted by their offense.

    Part of their problem is turnovers, but that is nothing new. Football coaches have worried about turnovers from the beginning, and the Ravens . But it is especially crucial against the Steelers. Only New England was better at the takeaway/giveaway differential this season

    It's going to be challenging for Dick LeBeau, Pittsburgh's defensive coordinator.

    When Pittsburgh has the ball: I think the key for the Steelers is Ben Roethlisberger. He was completing his suspension when Baltimore came to Pittsburgh and pulled out a come–from–behind victory.

    Big Ben has a six–game winning streak against Baltimore, and he is 8–2 against the Ravens all time. That tends to make a guy confident.

    The Ravens' winning streak, which dates back to Big Ben's last win over them, should give them some confidence, too. But it is critical for them to make some defensive statements — preferably early — if only to provide some cushion against whatever offensive collapse may be in store.

    They might be able to do it. Linebacker Ray Lewis was fifth in the NFL in tackles. Linebacker Terrell Suggs was tied for 10th in sacks. Safety Ed Reed led the NFL in interceptions.

    If you like defense, I think you'll like this game. These two teams were in the top 10 in the NFL in preventing opposing offenses from accumulating yards — and they were #1 (Pittsburgh) and #3 (Baltimore) in preventing opponents from scoring.

    Look for a low–scoring game, and don't be surprised if it is decided by ... a field goal.

  • Green Bay (11–6) at Atlanta (13–3), 7 p.m. (Central) on Fox.

    The Falcons have had a great season. They've won nine of their last 10 games, and that loss came two days after Christmas, when Atlanta's postseason position was more or less assured.

    The Falcons also have the knowledge that they beat the Packers on their home field at the end of November, 20–17.

    But I'm inclined to think Green Bay is going to win this one.

    I've heard a lot of talk about Atlanta's Matt Ryan and Green Bay's Aaron Rodgers, how they are the NFC's quarterbacks of the near future, this generation's elite.

    In today's game, I have heard, both quarterbacks are looking to break through that playoff barrier and join the list of quarterbacks who have been successful in the postseason. This game will be the "next step"

    But I would argue that Rodgers has already achieved that. Actually, he did just about everything but win in his epic postseason debut last year against the Arizona Cardinals. Last week, he finally got postseason victory #1 under his belt when the Packers defeated the Eagles.

    It could also be argued that the Packers as a team have been in playoff mode since before Christmas, when every game became a must–win for them just to make it to the playoffs. The Packers are past the jitters stage.

    The Falcons, on the other hand, are coming in following a bye week. A bye week can be a good thing if a roster is filled with older players, some of whom may be banged up and need a little time to heal. But it can be a bad thing if a team is young and resilient — and Atlanta's three offensive stars (Matt Ryan, Michael Turner, Roddy White) are under 30.

    I'm not sure a week off helps these guys. Staying in their routine, remaining active and in their rhythm is probably what they need.

    If they were rookies, a week off might help. A rookie can get pretty tired when a 16–game season is wrapping up, and a week off can be just what he needs. But Atlanta's offensive trio are all past their rookie years.

    I wonder if the week off won't hurt Atlanta, at least in the early stages.

    If there is one thing that was clear from playing Green Bay this season, it was that you don't want to spot them a couple of scores. The Packers' defense was second only to the Steelers in preventing opponents from scoring, Clay Matthews was third in the NFL in sacks. Tramon Williams was tied for third in interceptions.

    Green Bay's defense will pose a challenge for Ryan as he looks for his first postseason win.

    The objective will be a little different for Rodgers. In fact, I look at this as Part 2 of his attempt to be fully embraced in Packer lore as Brett Favre's successor.

    Last week was Part 1, and it really called upon Rodgers to accomplish two things that Favre could never do in his career in Green Bay — beat Michael Vick in the playoffs and beat the Eagles in the playoffs. Those things he did.

    Tonight, he will be trying to avenge a playoff loss to the Falcons in Green Bay from January 2003.

    On that night, the Packers entered the game with a perfect record at home for the season, and Green Bay was a perfect 11–0 all time in home playoff games. But Vick and the Falcons prevailed in the snow.

    Rodgers can turn the tables on Atlanta and go his predecessor one better, in a sense, by winning tonight. The Falcons aren't unbeaten at home, but they're close enough (7–1). The Packers, meanwhile, are 3–5 on the road (well, 4–5 now, I guess, since last week's win was on the road).

    Based mostly on that — and the fact that the Falcons beat Green Bay in Atlanta earlier in the season (although the Packers came closer than anyone other than New Orleans in the waning days of the season) to winning at the Georgia Dome — the Packers come into tonight's game as the underdog.

    But remember ...

    Rodgers was the third-best QB in NFL this year, and Greg Jennings was fourth in the NFL in receiving yards. The Green Bay defense was one of the NFL's best.

    Paul Newberry of the Associated Press says the Falcons are hoping to prove themselves.

    By overcoming the Giants, Bears and Eagles in succession, the Packers have already proven themselves.Rodgers certainly has. Now he needs to make a statement.

    And I think he will do that tonight. My prediction — Green Bay 24, Atlanta 14.
Incidentally, if the playoff games get out of hand, there are some good movies on Turner Classic Movies.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Eagles-Packers Revisited



It is ironic, I suppose, that the Green Bay Packers and Philadelphia Eagles will meet in the first round of the playoffs this afternoon.

Those with little appreciation for NFL history may only realize that it is a rematch of the season opener, but, as Gary D'Amato of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel writes, neither team is really the same as it was back in September.

It was also a little more than 50 years ago — on Dec. 26, 1960 — that the two teams played for the NFL championship. Sports Illustrated called that game one of the greatest moments in Philadelphia history.

It was also the only championship game Vince Lombardi ever lost.

If a football fan from 2011 could be transported back to that time, he might find little about the game that he would recognize. It is safe to say that things were different half a century ago.

That game was played in the same city — Philadelphia — as today's game will be, but it won't be played in the same stadium.

The place where the 1960 title game was played — Franklin Field — still stands, as it has for more than 100 years. The University of Pennsylvania plays its football games there, as it did then, but no professional football team has called Franklin Field home since the 1970s.

The teams that met on Franklin Field in 1960 looked very different than the teams that will face each other on Lincoln Financial Field today. Their recent histories are different, too. The Eagles and Packers of 1960 were making their first postseason appearances in more than a decade while their counterparts in 2010–11 are fixtures in the playoffs.

In 1960, of course, the nation was on the brink of political and societal upheaval that no one could anticipate. For that matter, the NFL was about to embark on a decade of change that would bring serious competition from the upstart American Football League and lead, ultimately, to first the expansion of the NFL's playoff field followed by the establishment of a Super Bowl to crown an overall champion and, eventually, the merging of the leagues.

That was still in the future in 1960, though. In 1960, things were still being done the way they had almost always been done in the NFL. The two conference winners in the NFL, the Packers and the Eagles, advanced to face each other in the championship game.

The Sunday on which the game would have been played was Christmas Day, and the NFL did not want to play a game on Christmas Day so it was played instead on Monday, Dec. 26.

Franklin Field did not have lights in those days so the game began at high noon Philadelphia time. Television wasn't as prevalent as it has become, and the phenomenon of night games was still years away. For that matter, Monday Night Football didn't come along for another decade.

The underdog Eagles trailed, 6–0, thanks to two Don Chandler field goals, then took the lead at halftime on a Norm Van Brocklin–to–Tommy MacDonald touchdown pass and a Bobby Walston field goal.

The Packers retook the lead on a Bart Starr–to–Max McGee touchdown pass in the fourth quarter, then the Eagles took the lead for good on a touchdown run by Ted Dean.

The Packers, who outgained the Eagles by more than 100 yards, weren't done. With time running out, Philly's Chuck Bednarik tackled Green Bay's Jim Taylor just short of the goal line to preserve a 17–13 win.

The Eagles have been to a couple of Super Bowls in the half century that has passed, but they have never finished a football season as undisputed champions since that day.

This will only be the second time the Eagles and Packers have faced each other in the playoffs. The teams did not meet in the postseason again until January 2004, when Philadelphia beat Green Bay, 20–17 in the divisional playoffs. That game, too, was played in Philadelphia.

History suggests it will be a close game, but I'm inclined to think it may be high scoring. This afternoon, I have no doubt that Green Bay's Aaron Rodgers and Philadelphia's Michael Vick, who are probably the best two quarterbacks still standing in the NFC, will combine for more than the 30 points that the Eagles and Packers put on the board back in 1960 — or the 37 points they produced seven years ago.

But I think it will be the best game of the weekend — Nick Folk's game–winning field goal for the Jets notwithstanding.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Aggies Seek Reversal of Fortune



I don't know if you've noticed, but — with a few noteworthy exceptions — this year's crop of bowl games has turned out to be somewhat disappointing.

Oh, there have been a few games that lived up to whatever hype there was prior to kickoff — but let's be honest, there really hasn't been much to hype, beyond the still–to–be–played BCS championship game.

Frankly, that hasn't surprised me. When this year's bowl lineup was announced, I pinpointed a handful of games that intrigued me — and decided I might watch parts of the others if I had nothing better to do.

If you knew how long I have been a fan of college football, you would be astonished by that.

One of the games that intrigued me from the start, though, is the one that will be played here in north Texas tonight — the Cotton Bowl between Texas A&M and LSU.

It's an old rivalry that has lain dormant since 1995, when the Aggies opened the season with a 33–17 win over LSU at College Station, Texas. (Since that day, by the way, A&M has lost five straight games to Southeastern Conference schools.)

That was totally in character for this series. If one of the teams is playing on its home field, that team usually wins. When the game is played at a neutral site, as it has been seven times (including their only previous bowl game encounter, the Orange Bowl that was played on Jan. 1, 1944), it's been even. Literally. Their record at neutral sites is 3–3–1.

This will be their 50th meeting so, clearly, most of their games have been played at College Station or Baton Rouge. In fact, you have to go back more than half a century to find the last time the teams played on a neutral site.

It was right here, in Dallas, on Sept. 24, 1955 (the same day that President Eisenhower suffered a heart attack), and the Aggies won, 28–0. Bear Bryant was coaching A&M in those days.

It was also the first season that Paul Dietzel was LSU's head coach. Modern football fans may not recognize that name, but, in the next few years, Dietzel led the Tigers to their only national championship in the 20th century, and he coached the school's only Heisman Trophy winner to date.

Before that, their last neutral–site meeting was that Orange Bowl game on New Year's Day 1944. That 1943 season was an anomaly in the history of this series. The teams met during the regular season, too, in Baton Rouge, and the visiting Aggies won, 28–13. But the Tigers won the rematch in Miami, 19–14.

The other five neutral–site games were played before or during World War I.

At various times, LSU has been a fixture on A&M's schedule, most recently in the decade covering the late 1980s and early 1990s. The Aggies lost four of five games between 1986 and 1990, but they won all five games played between 1991 and 1995, which also happened to be a period of virtually unparalleled success for the A&M program.

LSU, on the other hand, went from being a perennial SEC contender in the mid– to late 1980s to enduring a string of sub–.500 finishes from 1989 to 1994. The Tigers' loss to the Aggies in September 1995 did not prevent them from eventually earning a bowl bid for the first time since 1988. By that time, they were on their way back to the top.

In the last decade or so, both schools' fortunes have been reversed from what they were in 1995. LSU hasn't had a losing season since 1999; in fact, the Tigers have posted 10 wins or more in six of the last 10 seasons (including this one).

But the last two years were not particularly good for the Tigers. After beating Ohio State for the national title, LSU slumped to 8–5 in 2008 and rebounded slightly to 9–4 in 2009 — numbers that many programs would envy but hardly what LSU fans have been accustomed to.

Meanwhile, 2010 has been, by far, the Aggies' best year since they lost the 1999 Sugar Bowl to Ohio State and finished 11–3.

The numbers will tell you that the 9–3 Aggies have only matched their best single–season victory total since that time, but that isn't the whole story.

They went 9–3 in 2006 as well, but their reward for a campaign in which their only significant win was against Texas was a trip to the Holiday Bowl.

Don't get me wrong. Beating Texas always means something, and it did have more value in 2006, coming less than a year after Texas won the national title, than it did this year, when Texas was coming off a loss in the national championship game last January and, more recently, had been beaten to a pulp in six of its last eight games.

But the Aggies of 2006 didn't have any other truly quality wins (or "statement games") that year. They lost to the three best teams they faced other than Texas — Texas Tech, Oklahoma and Nebraska. Besides UT, the only winning teams the Aggies beat were Missouri and Oklahoma State — and, when they took the field in San Diego for the Holiday Bowl, they were hammered by 9–3 California.

(If you're an aficionado of A&M trivia, that was Dennis Franchione's last bowl appearance with the Aggies. He was gone after the 2007 season.)

A finish like the one Texas endured this year was probably the kind of finish that most people envisioned for the Aggies when they went 3–3 in the first half of the season, but then wide receiver Ryan Tannehill was switched to quarterback and the Aggies averaged 30.6 points in the five games he started (which included victories over Oklahoma, Nebraska and Texas Tech).

And their reward is a trip to the Cotton Bowl.

Longtime A&M fans — the ones whose memories go back to when the Aggies competed in the old Southwest Conference — remember when going to the Cotton Bowl was the prize for a great season. For those of us who were raised in the Southwest Conference, I guess it always will be.

Personally, I feel the city of Dallas made a serious mistake in not actively promoting the Cotton Bowl for BCS status when it had the chance. Yes, the Cotton Bowl stadium has been around for 80 years. Yes, the city would have needed to make a substantial financial commitment to make it acceptable to the BCS.

But I believed then — and I believe now — the investment would have been worth it.

Well, that's really a topic for another time, I suppose.

This will be the Aggies' 12th Cotton Bowl, but it's been nearly a quarter of a century since they've won one. They've lost five straight since.

In all, they have played in 15 bowl games since their last victory in the Cotton Bowl, and their overall record is 3–12.

Can they end their skid?

I think they can — and the reason is as simple as the old adage that "defense wins championships."

Well, in this case, defense can't win a championship — but it definitely could win a bowl game.

In the 1980s and 1990s, the defense was known as the "Wrecking Crew." In recent years, I've heard Aggie fans criticize the defense, saying — and not without justification — that it didn't meet the standards of the defenses that R.C. Slocum used to put on the field.

(That has always seemed like a rather odd criticism to me, given that Slocum was run off because he wasn't winning. Slocum is the winningest coach in school history.)

But, in spite of all the talk about Tannehill's exploits this season, coach Mike Sherman's achievement in reviving the Aggie defense might be the story of the year in Aggieland. They had the best run defense in the Big 12 (#15 in the country), and that could make for some interesting plays against an offense that had the 31st run offense in the nation.

The passing game really doesn't seem likely to play a prominent role in LSU's game plan unless the Tigers find themselves having to claw back from a deficit. LSU's aerial attack was 107th in the nation — and I'm guessing that suits the Aggies just fine. They were 93rd in the nation against the pass.

When the Aggies have the ball, of course, they will be putting it in the apparently capable hands of Tannehill, who was 33rd in the nation in passing efficiency despite starting fewer than half of the team's games.

He does figure to be challenged when he throws the ball — LSU's pass defense was ninth in the nation, and the Tigers had to face three of the country's top four passers so you know they've been tested — but if LSU emphasizes pass defense, its 40th–ranked run defense could well be rendered vulnerable to Cyrus Gray, the Aggies' top rusher.

Gray didn't have eye–popping numbers, but he contributed about what LSU's top rusher, Stevan Ridley, did on the ground — roughly 86 yards and one touchdown per game. He didn't carry the ball as frequently, though, so his per–carry average was much better (5.74 to 4.63).

The numbers tell me this could be a scrap, a real backyard brawl, and that always makes for interesting television.

But let's examine the motivations.

The Aggies are on a six–game winning streak, hungry to return to national prominence. To outsiders, they may seem to be taking baby steps in that direction, and the Cotton Bowl may not seem like much of a seaon–ending reward.

But, as someone who grew up in the Southwest Conference, I know the Cotton Bowl is hardly a consolation prize to the Aggies. It is certainly preferable to the Holiday Bowl. I know they relish the opportunity to end their Cotton Bowl losing streak, even if it isn't in the actual Cotton Bowl stadium.

And, for a team whose last bowl championship came nearly a decade ago in the Gallery Furniture Bowl, the label "Cotton Bowl champions" sounds pretty good.

The Tigers have enjoyed a lot of success in recent years. Coach Les Miles is wrapping up his sixth season at the helm, and the Tigers have won at least 10 games in four of them.

There may be a certain amount of motivation for LSU in that. If the Tigers win tonight, they will have their fourth 11–win season since 2005.

My thinking is that the Tigers and their fans may be complacent. They may be inclined to see the Cotton Bowl as a consolation prize after all their recent BCS appearances. They may not appreciate a trip to Dallas.

But the Aggies, even though their campus is only about 150 miles away, won't feel that way.

And I think they will not only cover the two–point spread the oddsmakers have given to LSU. I think they will win the game. Texas A&M 27, LSU 21.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Razorbacks' Lament



The Sugar Bowl was played last night. My alma mater, the University of Arkansas, came up five points short.

I am reminded of what Adlai Stevenson said in his concession speech on Election Night 1952 (he was actually quoting a story that had been told by Abraham Lincoln about a century earlier): "It hurts too much to laugh, but I'm too old to cry."

In case you didn't see the game, Ohio State raced to a 28–10 halftime lead, then held on as Arkansas closed the deficit to 31–26 before a late interception killed its hopes.

Up to that point, though, it was a marvelous comeback, the kind of thing that no doubt would have achieved legendary status in my home state if it had led to a victory. And who knows? It may yet achieve a kind of mythical status, a sort of a David–vs.–Goliath thing — but without the inspirational underdog–overcomes–all–obstacles theme.

If the Razorbacks had managed to pull off an astonishing comeback, no doubt the folks in Arkansas would have spoken of it in the same hushed tones they reserve for the 1978 Orange Bowl, when Lou Holtz suspended three of his stars only days before a game with already–heavily favored Oklahoma, then went out and beat the Sooners, 31–6, behind a sophomore running back.

Or the 1965 Cotton Bowl, when Frank Broyles led Arkansas to a 10–7 victory over Nebraska and a share of the national championship with Bear Bryant and Alabama. No suspensions in that one, just names of Razorback proteges like Jerry Jones, Jimmy Johnson and Ken Hatfield and assistants like Johnny Majors and Barry Switzer who went on to influence both college and pro ball.

Broyles and Holtz capped 11–win seasons with those victories. Arkansas' current coach, Bobby Petrino, could have become the third coach in school history to win 11 games in a season if the Razorbacks had managed to beat Ohio State.

Even though the Razorbacks did not achieve a comeback for the ages, I think this game will be talked about for awhile.

Less than two weeks before the game was to be played, the NCAA announced it was suspending five Ohio State players for the first five games of the 2011 season.

They were allowed to play in the Sugar Bowl, however — and, between them, they accounted for or made significant contributions to each of Ohio State's four touchdowns.

If Ken Gordon of the Columbus Dispatch is indicative of how garden–variety Buckeye fans feel, though, NCAA violations mean nothing — in January, at least. We'll see how they feel in about eight or nine months.

(We could still find out how they feel before the next football season draws nigh. I wrote last week about the possibility that some or all of the players might choose to declare themselves eligible for the NFL draft and avoid any punishment from the NCAA.

(The Ohio State coach insists that the players all promised they would return for their senior years and serve their suspensions as a condition for being allowed to participate in the Sugar Bowl, but, Coach Pollyanna notwithstanding, I'll withhold judgment until after the draft in the spring, thank you.)

"Whether their next game for Ohio State is in eight months, nine months or never again, the Suspended Five gave their school a tremendous parting gift last night," Gordon wrote. "And one of the most obscure of the group came up with the biggest play."

That would be Solomon Thomas, whose late interception snuffed out Arkansas' last hope of winning the game.

Denied victory by five players who really shouldn't have been permitted to play — and may wind up having the last laugh — the Razorbacks may have to content themselves with the knowledge that they came closer to winning the Sugar Bowl than any losing team since #8 Georgia lost to #11 West Virginia, 38–35, on Jan. 2, 2006.

The Ohio State Five committed no grievous offenses during the game. It was cleanly played and won. There were no bad calls upon which the outcome could be blamed. There were no serious injuries that kept anyone from starting.

Nearly a month ago, I wrote about Arkansas' woeful records in both the Sugar Bowl and against the Big Ten. I wish last night's game had been a reversal of fortune for the Razorbacks. But it wasn't.

It was an entertaining game, although not in the sense that momentum shifted with each possession. Ohio State won the first half. Arkansas won the second, but by a smaller margin. Consequently, Ohio State won.

It would be tempting to suggest that the better team won. And maybe, when one evaluates the talent that each school brought to the Louisiana Superdome last night, that is so.

But it's a matter of opinion whether all the talent on the field was there legitimately. The NCAA will tell you that all of Ohio State's players were, in fact, eligible to be there — and, by existing NCAA rules, that is probably so.

I still think it is wrong, though, for a punishment to be assessed in the next season, and I don't feel the Ohio State Five should have been allowed to play. But they were and they played honorably.

We shall see if they are as honorable about serving their suspensions.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Before There Was a Super Bowl ...



On this day in 1966, an NFL season came to a conclusion for the last time in the pre–Super Bowl era.

In the next two years, the Green Bay Packers and the Dallas Cowboys would square off for NFL championships that entitled the winner to advance to an AFL–NFL World Championship Game against the winner of the AFL title.

Within a few years, that game became known as the Super Bowl, the name by which it is still known today.

But, on Jan. 2, 1966, there was no Super Bowl yet. The NFL title was still the prize that waited at the end of the rainbow, and the Packers, having beaten the Colts in a conference playoff game the week before, and the Cleveland Browns met in Green Bay with the NFL title on the line.

It is ironic, I suppose, that the 2010 Packers will be playing on that same field later today. They will need a victory to assure themselves a spot in the playoffs, and they must defeat a long–time nemesis, the Chicago Bears.

They'll also have to overcome something else.

In spite of talk of global warming, I don't think winter weather in Green Bay, Wisc., has changed much in nearly half a century. If today's forecast is correct (sunny and windy with a high of 16°), the weather in Green Bay today is more likely to resemble the "Ice Bowl" that was played in December 1967 than the weather that greeted the Browns and Packers in January 1966.

On this day 45 years ago, it was actually a comparatively balmy 26° with a moderate breeze of about 12 mph (the wind is predicted to gust to around 20 this afternoon).

There had been a snowstorm before kickoff, but the field had been covered by a tarp so the field was clear when the game began.

Much like the Chiefs–Dolphins playoff game in 1971, of which I wrote last week, the Packers–Browns game that was played on this day in 1966 was a turning point in the history of the NFL.

Prior to that day, the Browns had been a dominant team. They were the defending NFL champions. They had won four NFL championships in the previous 15 years, and they had played for four others.

They were America's Team before the phrase was invented.

But the sun was setting on their dynasty. The great Jim Brown, who led the NFL in rushing that year and was named MVP by both AP and UPI, voluntarily retired after the game was played. (Brown is now in his 70s, but many of Cleveland's rushing records that he set during his playing days still stand.)

When the offense didn't get the job done, Gary Collins' 46.7–yards–per–punt average tended to pin foes deep on their own side of the field. The defense was getting old, but it still managed to get the job done most of the time, and, while the Browns have played for league championships since that afternoon in Green Bay, they have have never won one.

In hindsight, the Browns may have benefited from playing in a weak division, at least when compared to the one in which Green Bay played. The Browns had the best record in the NFL that year (11–3), but their closest competitors, Dallas and New York, finished four games behind them at 7–7.

For all intents and purposes, the Browns had wrapped up the division with about a month left in the season. They went 6–1 in the last half of the season, and it is safe to say they did not approach many of those games with anything approaching a sense of urgency.

(The fact that their only loss in the second half of the season came against the young and struggling Los Angeles Rams from the other division The Packers, meanwhile, were locked in a down–to–the–wire battle with the Colts and Bears, and, as I wrote last week, had to beat the Colts for a third time to qualify for a spot in the NFL championship game.

When they beat the Browns on this day in 1966, the Packers won the first of three consecutive NFL championships — an accomplishment that remains unique in NFL history. In the last 45 years, they have played in four Super Bowls. True, many of those years were mediocre for the Packers — after winning the first two Super Bowls, they spent the next 30 years trying to get back and, usually, falling far short of the mark — but the Browns have seldom been close enough to catch a whiff of the Super Bowl in all that time.

The outcome was far from certain when the teams went to the locker room at intermission.

The first half was tight. Green Bay led, 13–12, with the difference being a rare botched conversion by the ordinarily dependable Lou Groza, but the Packers' defense asserted itself in the second half, and the Packer offense, behind its famous power sweep, scored 10 unanswered points, winning the game, 23–12.

The weather may have played a role in the outcome. I've been told the second half brought snow, mud and fog — and, if either team had been particularly reliant on the passing game, that might have caused some serious problems.

But neither team was especially proficient at passing. It was still the era of the ground game

In fact, Cleveland, with Brown in the backfield, had the NFL's best rushing offense. The Packers weren't as potent as they had been earlier in Vince Lombardi's coaching tenure, but, with Paul Hornung and Jim Taylor in the backfield, they were still pretty good.

The real difference in the game probably was the Green Bay defense, ranked #1 in the NFL (Cleveland was ranked ninth of 14). The Packers allowed Brown to run for only 50 yards that day, while Taylor slogged it out for 96 yards (he never ran for more than eight yards on a single carry all afternoon) and Hornung gained 105.

Pro football would change in many ways in the years to come.

The running game gradually gave way to the passing game.

Equipment and rules were modified to eliminate some injuries and mitigate the effects of others.

Some say it is better. And maybe it is.

But sometimes I'm not so sure.