It's Been a Long Time Coming

---

---

I grew up in Arkansas, and I got my B.A. at the University of Arkansas so I was indoctrinated into Razorback culture early.

Initially, my interest was exclusively football, but then Eddie Sutton came along, and I — along with hundreds of thousands of Arkansans — began following college basketball as a result.

He certainly made it interesting — and it wasn't as if we fans were doing much between football seasons, anyway.

A couple of years after his arrival, he had the Razorbacks in the NCAA Tournament for the first time in nearly 20 years. They were one and done, but that was enough to give Razorback fans a taste of the Big Dance.

The next year, Sutton coached the Razorbacks to the Final Four for only the third time ever. They lost to the eventual national champion, then beat Notre Dame in the third–place game, and Razorback fans were hooked. Expectations the next season, in 1979, were higher than they had ever been in my lifetime, even though many of the stars of that Final Four team had graduated.

It was because of those absent stars that national expectations weren't high at all. In fact, Arkansas was unranked when the season began.

But the Razorbacks still had Sidney Moncrief, who became the school's all–time leading scorer and was a consensus All–American in 1979. Larry Bird was an All–American, too, and his undefeated and top–ranked Indiana State Sycamores were waiting for the Razorbacks 35 years ago today in the Elite Eight in Cincinnati.

The winner would face DePaul in the Final Four in Salt Lake City.

You would be hard pressed to find a tighter ballgame than the one that was played on that St. Patrick's Day. Arkansas led by two points at halftime, then late in the game with the score tied, U.S. Reed was called for walking, and Indiana State was in position to take the final shot.

Everyone expected Bird to take that shot. He had scored 31 points that afternoon, more than double anyone else on his team, but, as the seconds ticked off the clock, teammate Bob Heaton took the shot, made it and sent Indiana State to the Final Four.

It was a heartbreaker for Arkansas fans. Indiana State went on to beat DePaul a week later, then lost to Michigan State in the championship game (which was the first meeting in the now–storied rivalry between Bird and Magic Johnson).

Arkansas and Indiana State haven't faced each other in a basketball game since that day 35 years ago.

Expectations were for the Razorbacks to return to the NCAA Tournament, thanks to a season sweep of Kentucky and a strong finish to the regular season. But that finish was marred by a season–ending loss at Alabama and a loss to South Carolina in the SEC Tournament apparently knocked the Razorbacks out of the NCAA Tournament.

Not long after the pairings were announced, it was announced that Arkansas had accepted an invitation to play in the NIT. Shortly thereafter, it was revealed that their first opponent will be Indiana State tomorrow night — 35 years and a day since that disappointing defeat.

Razorback fans have memories that are longer than elephants'. One wrote on Facebook today that Heaton walked just before making the game–winner. It wasn't called and, to be honest, I don't remember it. But it just goes to show how raw that wound is.

How different would that game have been if college basketball had a shot clock and the three–point shot, neither of which existed at the time? We'll never know. This is a different era with different players and different coaches.

But the fans are the same. Some have died and others have been born since that St. Patrick's Day in 1979, but the loss lives on in the collective memory of Razorback fans. They want revenge.

The game will be televised by ESPN at 8 p.m. (Central). I'm hoping for a more satisfying finish this time.

A Bold Suggestion

---

---

Randy Galloway had an intriguing suggestion to make to the Dallas Cowboys this weekend in the Fort Worth Star–Telegram.

His proposal? Trade quarterback Tony Romo to the Houston Texans for the #1 pick in this spring's NFL draft.

Houston, Galloway says, is a club that is ready to win ... except it needs a veteran quarterback. Romo is a veteran quarterback — who might benefit from a change of scenery. (Sometimes that is all it takes. Witness Alex Smith in Kansas City after an unproductive career in San Francisco.)

"Tony can play," Galloway writes. "Don't give me any back talk on that. Tony can play."

(A disclaimer is necessary here, you see. There has been some disagreement in these parts about Romo and whether he actually can play, at least at a level that is worth that huge contract that Cowboys owner Jerry Jones gave him nearly a year ago.)

Jones, Galloway writes, "knows he's not going anywhere with Tony. Not anywhere except the proven 8–and–8. Mr. Jones needs new blood at QB. And he needs out from under that stupid contract he gave Romo last summer."

I'll admit, it sounds pretty fantastic, doesn't it? But, with Romo's contract, Galloway observes, "he's already the second–most powerful person at Valley Ranch." That's second — behind Jones, ahead of the coach.

I've been observing Jones since he bought the Cowboys in 1989. I even covered Jimmy Johnson's first press conference after he was named Tom Landry's successor — by Jones.

And I have reached some very definite conclusions.

One of which is this: Jones is all about power and control. His ego demands frequent stroking — and his preferred form of stroking is to be told that he alone is responsible for all the good things that have happened to the Cowboys since he bought the team — the three Super Bowl wins in the '90s in particular — and anything bad that has happened is someone else's fault.

Anyone whose power rivals his own is a threat to Jones — on many levels — and he will only be patient for so long. His patience with coaches — even big–name coaches like Barry Switzer and Bill Parcells — lasts about three years at best.

He has tended to be a little more patient with players — but few players during Jones' tenure have been regarded as "the second–most powerful person at Valley Ranch." That designation usually is reserved for the head coach.

And Jones is jealous about power.

It's an interesting idea, this trade suggestion from Galloway. It's one that Jones should consider — seriously.

The Centennial of Baseball's Showman

---

---

"I know it's the fans that are responsible for me being here. I've always tried in each and every broadcast to serve the fans to the best of my ability."

Harry Caray

---

In ballparks in Florida and Arizona, spring training games are being played, perhaps as you read this — the perfect time for a man like Harry Caray to have a birthday.

In fact, March 1 was his birthday. If he was still alive, Caray would have been 100 years old today. And I think he would want to spend it at a ballgame where he could feel the sun on his face, smell the dirt and grass of the ballpark and hear the crack of a bat meeting a ball.

But he's been gone awhile.

When Caray was alive, watching the Cubs on WGN was must–see TV. It didn't matter how good or — more often — how bad they were. Having Caray to call the game was worth it.

People used to talk about how influential Ted Turner was in the early days of cable, and there certainly was truth in that. But don't underestimate Caray's contribution, especially in the days before cable coverage blanketed sports and it became possible to see one's favorite teams — in almost any sport — virtually whenever they played.

For awhile there, only the Chicago Cubs and the Atlanta Braves could be seen just about whenever — and wherever — they played. WGN in Chicago was one of cable's first superstations, along with Turner's WTCG in Atlanta, and their baseball coverage was one of their biggest selling points. As a Dodger fan, that meant that I could see the Dodgers play whenever they faced the Cubs or the Braves since all three were National League clubs (and, with the exception of spring–training games, the only inter–league games in those days were World Series games). It also meant that the Cubs and Braves gained new fans from all across the country every year.

The Yankees and Cardinals probably remained the two most popular franchises, but they suddenly faced competition from the Cubs and the Braves. Caray had a lot to do with that. He was the familiar face of the Cubs, and fans associated his seventh–inning renditions of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" with his Cub broadcasts. Folks were singing that song long before he came along, but Caray redefined that tradition while broadcasting White Sox games.

He was a homer, no doubt about it, and he embraced that role with relish. He didn't apologize for it, either. He didn't pretend to be objective. He seemed to understand that was part of the show.

When you work nights, weekends and most holidays, as I did when I worked on the sports desk of the Arkansas Gazette, you have to take your perks where you find them, and one of the perks for me was the fact that, when they were playing in the afternoon, I could watch most of the Cubs' games before I had to leave for work. I got to enjoy six, maybe seven innings of Caray and the Cubs.

In those days, I hoped to someday visit Chicago and take in a game at Wrigley Field, just to be able to watch Caray lead the crowd in "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh–inning stretch, but I never made it. Sixteen years ago, Caray collapsed in a restaurant, reportedly struck his head on a table and died four days later.

Lots of folks probably thought that there couldn't be a show without Caray — but the show went on after he had a stroke that kept him out of the booth for a couple of months. A steady parade of celebrities, many with local ties, filled in as guests until he returned. Some were good, most were not, but I think nearly all viewers would agree that none came close to matching Caray.

Perhaps it was because he understood the mentality of the Chicago sports fan.

"Chicago people are kind of fatalistic, but they continue to hope that somehow some way the Cubs will shock even them and win it just one time," he said. "Their fatalism allows them to enjoy the team's success, knowing that one horrible thing will happen down the line to rip the rug out from underneath them."

There are some sports announcers whose voices you just associate with certain sports and/or teams. When I was growing up in Arkansas, that voice was Bud Campbell's; whenever I heard it and regardless of what the calendar said, I felt like it must be an autumn Saturday and the Razorbacks must be about to begin a game against a Southwest Conference rival.

National broadcasts on TV and radio have had their own announcers who were known and loved by millions. Whenever I heard Curt Gowdy's voice, I felt like it had to be a summer's day and NBC's game of the week must be on — even though Gowdy did work some football games from time to time.

Caray's voice was like that for me. It just seemed natural to hear him speak of the Cubs and Wrigley Field — even though he was born in St. Louis.

It's been too long since I've heard that distinctive voice.

Shaking Up the World

---

---

"Clay comes out to meet Liston, and Liston starts to retreat.
If Liston goes back an inch farther, he'll end up in a ringside seat.
Clay swings with his left, Clay swings with his right.
Look at young Cassius carry the fight.
Liston keeps backing, but there's not enough room.
It's a matter of time till Clay lowers the boom.
Now Clay lands with a right, what a beautiful swing,
And the punch raises the Bear clean out of the ring.
Liston is still rising, and the ref wears a frown
For he can't start counting till Sonny goes down.
Now Liston is disappearing from view, the crowd is going frantic,
But radar stations have picked him up, somewhere over the Atlantic.
Who would have thought when they came to the fight
That they'd witness the launching of a human satellite?
Yes the crowd did not dream when they put up the money
That they would see a total eclipse of the Sonny."

Cassius Clay (1963)

---

Sonny Liston was the most fearsome fighter of his day.

Heck, he would be fearsome in any era. Sports Illustrated ranked him third among all the heavyweights — behind only Muhammad Ali and Joe Louis.

Fifty years ago tomorrow, Liston was the heavyweight champion about to defend his title in Miami Beach against an up–and–comer named Cassius Clay (soon to be Muhammad Ali), and most observers believed the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

Modern boxing fans who grew up knowing Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield as the fiercest fighters around would be astonished by Sonny Liston. Many of his contemporaries were hesitant to fight him. There were boxing writers who believed he could not be beaten.

How tough was Liston? His nickname was "The Big Bear."

Liston was a brawler who learned to fight while serving time for armed robbery. He was sent back to prison for beating up a policeman. Through most of his professional career, Liston's majority owner was a former Mafia hit man; because of that association, Liston had a reputation for being everything that was bad about the sport even though his criminal record was a thing of the past, a relic of his reckless youth.

Clay was known to be loquacious, young and arrogant. He had won a gold medal as a light heavyweight in the 1960 Olympics, but he had struggled as a professional. Most boxing writers believed Liston would win easily.

Liston may have thought so, too. The 31–year–old Liston was a 7–to–1 favorite over the 22–year–old Clay.

Clay did everything he could to capitalize on that. He cultivated the image of a naive youngster in an attempt to lull Liston into a false sense of security.

---

---

Any thoughts that Liston might have had about knocking Clay out in the first round the way he had disposed of the previous heavyweight champion, Floyd Patterson, disappeared quickly as Clay proved to be too slippery. He constantly frustrated Liston by backing just out of range of the champion's punches.

Then, in the third round, Clay staggered the champ. Liston didn't go down, but he was bleeding from his nose and a cut just below his left eye when the round ended.

By the fifth round, Liston's right eye was beginning to swell, but Clay was having his own vision problems. Something appeared to be in one of his eyes, and he was blinking rapidly as the round began. Sensing a vulnerability, Liston tried to move in for the kill, but Clay bounced away every time Liston tried to connect, and Liston seemed to be tired by the end of the round.

When the fighters came out for the sixth round, Liston was dragging. The fight was stopped before the start of the seventh round.

And Clay jumped around the ring, repeatedly shouting, "I shook up the world!"

Clay leaned over the ropes of the boxing ring and told the working press to "eat your words." Sports writer Red Smith wrote that "nobody ever had a better right" to demand that.

"He might have been nailed if the bout had continued," Smith wrote, "but, on the evidence of 18 frenzied minutes, Cassius was entitled to crow, 'I'm the greatest. I'm gonna upset the world.' "

Smith's words were a glimpse into the mindset of many who had been skeptical of Clay before the fight. Perhaps they felt he had been lucky. He was still a brash youngster, and upsets do happen. Clay "might have been nailed if the bout had continued," Smith had written, but he won "on the evidence of 18 frenzied minutes."

Evidence, of course, is what it is, whatever it is, not what someone might wish that it is. The fight did not continue. It was the end of the Liston championship.

---

---

Within a few days, Clay joined the Nation of Islam and changed his name to Muhammad Ali.

It was the start of a new era in boxing. Liston got a rematch with Ali in Lewiston, Maine, in May of 1965, which he lost, and he was never to be a contender again. Less than six years later, he was found dead of what was originally ruled to be a heroin overdose. Police could find no paraphernalia that would have been necessary to inject the fatal dose, however, so his death remains officially unresolved.

For Ali, it was the beginning of a remarkable professional career.

Website Offers Guidance in Tying Fishing Knots

---

---

I'm not much of a fisherman.

That isn't a good thing to admit when you live in the South — kind of like admitting that you don't watch NASCAR or eat chicken–fried steak or drink tea (guilty on all three charges).

My mother's father was an avid fisherman, though. He belonged to a fishing club in east Texas, and we used to meet my grandparents there.

It was about a two–hour drive from my grandparents' home in Dallas — an old two–story country house that was converted into a clubhouse where guests could spend the night and have meals. Members could keep fishing boats there, and that is what my grandfather did. When he was planning a trip to the fishing club, he would call the clubhouse and tell them to get his boat ready — which meant, I suppose, making sure it had enough gas and that all his gear was ready to go when he was.

I can still remember his boat, light brown and white, and I remember getting up early with my father and grandfather to go fishing hours before breakfast. I never did too well on those excursions on the lake, but I remember vividly the night Grandpa taught me to cast.

I was about 7 years old. My family had met up with my grandparents at the fishing club and one night after dinner, Grandpa decided it was time for me to learn how to cast so we went down to the shoreline between the boathouses. Grandpa showed me how to cast ("Pull the rod back to 10 o'clock," he instructed, "then go forward and release the line when your hand is at 2 o'clock.").

We both thought I was just practicing the mechanics of casting — but, lo and behold, I caught a fish!

Well, anyway, the reason I bring up fishing is because I stumbled on to a website that I think has the potential to be very useful for any of you anglers out there.

Called NetKnots.com, it instructs fishermen in tying knots. It even has animations.

I shared this with a friend of mine who used to be one of the outdoors writers for a newspaper where I worked as a copy editor. To be honest, I figured the material would be a little too elementary for him, but he replied that it has a lot of good information consolidated in one place. He said he had bookmarked it.

Well, that's good enough for me!

So, if you are an angler — or you know one — take a look at the website.

And I hope you catch a whopper!

Back to the Future?

---

---

A couple of days ago, I read with interest a column by Linda Robertson of the Miami Herald in which she argues that figure skating in America desperately needs "an ice queen" to survive.

It is ironic, I suppose, that such a suggestion should be made this month, 20 years after the Tonya Harding–Nancy Kerrigan showdown in the Winter Games.

Tonya, as I observed last month, was part of a conspiracy to get Kerrigan out of the way so Harding could breeze to the championship in the Nationals and then — presumably — win the gold medal in Norway.

But the plot unraveled, and both were allowed to compete in the Winter Olympics. The buildup for that showdown had something for everyone — Kerrigan was the good girl, Harding was the bad girl. Ratings went through the roof. In spite of the assumptions of many, though, neither won the gold. Kerrigan took the silver.

The general mindset at the time was that women's figure skating was the domain of the Americans — not unlike the general belief that once accompanied women's gymnastics, that it was the domain of Russia and the communist–bloc countries.

Fast forward a couple of decades.

The American women haven't won a gold medal in figure skating since 2002. They didn't medal at all in the last Winter Games.

The general prospects for the 2014 Games don't look so good, either. It isn't all bad. Americans are favored in ice dancing, Robertson reports, and the U.S. team has a chance at a medal.

But "U.S. pairs will be outclassed and, most humbling of all, U.S. men's and women's skaters face the prospect of being shut out of the medals for the first time since 1936."

Robertson writes that dominance in skating is seen as a cyclical thing, and I suppose there is truth in that. Everything does seem to go in cycles, and perhaps this is a natural downturn for the Americans. That isn't good news for NBC, which holds the American Olympic broadcasting rights through 2020.

The Summer Games have a lot of appealing events for Americans — track and field, swimming, diving, volleyball, gymnastics — but the marquee event for the Winter Games is figure skating. Oh, sure, you have some who like to watch skiing and, for awhile, Olympic hockey thrived in traditionally non–hockey markets, but that faded after the U.S. hockey team failed to duplicate its gold–medal success in the 1980 Winter Games.

NBC needs women's figure skating to be what it once was — a ratings bonanza.

Securing the Olympics

When I was a boy, terrorists struck the Summer Olympics in Munich. Eleven members of the Israeli team and a German police officer were killed.

That event sent shock waves throughout the world, largely because it was unexpected. It took everyone by surprise.

But that was a different world, a world in which terrorist attacks didn't happen often.

It wasn't far removed from a time when airplane passengers didn't have to go through a series of security checks. They could simply walk onto their planes without their luggage or bodies being scanned for weapons or bombs. No one seems to have thought that a person might intend to seize control of a plane, maybe blow it out of the sky — at least, until people started hijacking planes.

Even then, no one seems to have imagined that a person might want to seize control of a plane with the specific intention of flying it into a building — at least, not until 19 terrorists did that very thing on Sept. 11, 2001.

Since then, America has been on alert at airports and on board airplanes. The Olympics came to Salt Lake City only a few months after the Sept. 11 attacks, and, with tens of thousands of participants and spectators visiting from other countries for two weeks, the world saw a model of security efficiency. Two other Winter Olympics — and three Summer Olympics — have been held since Sept. 11, and each has avoided a security catastrophe.

Americans, I have learned, tend to believe that, if they are acutely aware of something or diligent about something, the rest of the world is, too. Perhaps the last six Olympic Games have lulled Americans into a false sense of security, believing that each host country is just as serious about terrorism prevention as we are.

But that is a dangerous assumption to make in today's world.

And I am anxious about the Winter Olympics that officially get under way this weekend in Russia.

Kelly Whiteside wrote in USA Today this week that the appearance of tight security promotes a sense of comfort, but, as Caitlin Dewey and Max Fisher write in the Washington Post, reports of suicide bombers and online threats prompted a travel alert from the State Department. Doesn't sound to me like Sochi is very secure.

Most of the people with whom I have spoken in the last week or so agree with me — that a terrorist attack during the Olympics is likely.

I hope I'm wrong about that. I don't want to see any athlete or coach or spectator hurt or killed.

But if it happens, I am pretty sure I know what the reaction will be: Most people will be sad. Most probably will be angry. Most also probably will feel a sense of revulsion.

But few, if any, will be surprised.

Elway's Swan Song

---

---

When the Broncos enter New York's MetLife Stadium for the Super Bowl two days from now, it will be the franchise's seventh appearance in the big game.

For awhile, the Broncos' record for Super Bowl futility was matched only by the Minnesota Vikings. For nearly eight years, both stood at 0–4. In the mid–1990s, the Bills joined them.

But then the Broncos broke the deadlock with a dramatic, last–minute triumph in Super Bowl XXXII, and then Hall of Fame quarterback John Elway led the Broncos to a second consecutive championship 15 years ago today with a more comfortable 34–19 victory over the Atlanta Falcons.

Consequently, the Broncos will be going into Sunday's game with a two–game Super Bowl winning streak.

Elway, now the executive vice president of football operations for the Broncos, was named the game's Most Valuable Player after completing 18 of 29 passes for 336 yards and a touchdown, but I always thought the MVP should have been shared by the Denver defense. In the first half, the Denver defenders stuffed Atlanta when the Falcons went for it on fourth–and–one, then forced the Falcons to attempt a field goal from 26 yards out (the Falcons missed the attempt).

It was after that missed field goal that Elway hit Rod Smith for an 80–yard touchdown strike.

In the second half, Denver intercepted three Atlanta passes, snuffing out drives that appeared to be headed for scores of some kind. If they had resulted in scores, the Falcons would have at least beaten the spread if not the Broncos.

When I was growing up, the Falcons were seen as an expansion team that seldom made the playoffs and even more rarely accomplished anything when they got there. But the 1998 season was an exception. The Falcons had the fourth–best offense in the entire NFL that year, and it led them to a 14–2 record. In fact, they had only lost once since dropping the season opener at San Francisco.

In spite of their excellent record, though, the Falcons had to travel to the NFC Championship, which was in Minnesota in January 1999. The Vikings were 15–1 and favored to return to the Super Bowl for the first time in more than 20 years, but the Falcons beat them in overtime.

Atlanta had met every challenge, but the Falcons still came into the Super Bowl as 7½–point underdogs. Turned out that was optimistic.

---

---

I've heard it speculated that, if the Broncos win on Sunday, Peyton Manning (who was a rookie during the 1998 season and will be 38 in March) will retire, but I think it is just as likely that Manning will stay on for another year and, like Elway, try to retire as a two–time defending Super Bowl champion. He might also have his second — or even his third — Super Bowl MVP by that time.

And why shouldn't he think he could do it? Under Manning's on–field leadership, the Broncos were 13–3 and had the top–rated offense in the NFL in 2013. If he returns for another season next fall, he will be the same age as Elway was when he played in Super Bowl XXXIII 15 years ago today.

Jersey Joe Walcott's 100th Birthday

---

Jersey Joe Walcott defeated Ezzard Charles
for the heavyweight championship in 1951.

---

Jersey Joe Walcott's boxing career is worthy of more study than I can give it here.

Walcott, who was born 100 years ago today, doesn't tend to show up on Top 10 Heavyweights of All Time lists (although you will often find him in the Top 20). He was regarded as a bit of a journeyman, I suppose, never managing to win a title until late in his career — but he stood tall in bouts with two of the greatest heavyweights of all time, Joe Louis and Rocky Marciano.

He knocked Louis down twice when they met the first time, but Louis prevailed in a split decision on the judges' cards. There are people today who will tell you Walcott won that fight. Enough people thought so at the time that they met in a rematch about 6½ months later. Louis scored an 11th–round knockout on that occasion.

In addition to two losses in title fights with Louis, Walcott lost two title fights with then–heavyweight champion Ezzard Charles, but he took the title from Charles in his third try on July 18, 1951. He was 37 years old, the oldest to win the heavyweight championship. Charles had just turned 30 less than two weeks earlier.

Walcott returned the favor by giving Charles the first shot at the title nearly a year later. He retained his title by virtue of a unanimous decision.

---

---

Only a handful of heavyweight champions are remembered more for fights they lost than fights they won, and Walcott is one of them. He is probably best remembered for his second title defense, which he lost to Marciano in September 1952. It does help to remember, though, that Walcott was 38 years old; Marciano had turned 29 three weeks earlier.

According to all accounts I have read and heard, it was quite a fight. It was named Fight of the Year for 1952.

As I say, Marciano won the fight with a 13th–round knockout, but Walcott challenged him. Marciano had a reputation for knocking out his opponents early, frequently in the first round, but Walcott didn't go down so easily. Early in the first round, Walcott staggered Marciano with a right, then knocked him down with a left hook.

It seemed that Walcott, who had dismissed Marciano as "amateurish" prior to the fight, may have been right in his assessment.

But as the fight went on, and the boxers began to tire, Marciano seized control and, eventually, knocked out Walcott in the 13th round.

They met in a rematch eight months later, and Marciano made quick work of his foe, knocking him out in the first round.

In 1994, at the age of 80, Walcott died less than 10 miles from where he was born.

When Parity Arrived and Jimmy Departed

---

---

Twenty years ago today, Jimmy Johnson coached in his final Super Bowl, guiding the Dallas Cowboys to their second straight championship.

Johnson's relationship with team owner Jerry Jones had been deteriorating that season. Jones' ego resented the attention Johnson had received since winning Super Bowl XXVII, and he wanted to have more say in football decisions, which had been Johnson's exclusive domain.

About two months after Johnson led the Cowboys to a second consecutive Super Bowl championship for the first and (so far) only time in their history, Johnson left the Cowboys. I don't think it was ever established whether Johnson resigned or was fired.

Dallas had hammered Buffalo the year before. In fact, it was the first (and, so far, only) time that two teams met in consecutive Super Bowls, and it was the fourth–ever Super Bowl rematch.

It wasn't much of a surprise that the Cowboys were 10½–point favorites in the rematch, considering they had beaten the Bills by 38 points the year before, but the point spread was a bit of a surprise. It was only the fourth time a team was favored by 10 points or more in a Super Bowl since the last time the Cowboys won one with Tom Landry as coach more than 15 years earlier.

As it turned out, the Cowboys covered that spread. But it didn't look too promising at halftime when the Bills led, 13–6.

"[T]hat only gave their fans false hope," writes Justin Tasch of the New York Daily News about Buffalo's second–half collapse, hastened by the emergence of Emmitt Smith.

---

---

In the second half, Dallas' Smith earned the Most Valuable Player award, scoring two touchdowns to lift the Cowboys to a 30–13 victory.

He finished the game with 132 yards on 30 carries. His longest run — for 15 yards — resulted in the touchdown that put Dallas ahead to stay in the third quarter.

In hindsight, Super Bowl XXVIII is an example of NFL parity. Some might even say it is a cautionary tale — but of what?

On this day 20 years ago, it was hard to imagine that both of these teams would be missing from most of the Super Bowls in the next two decades. Dallas did return a couple of years later — with former Oklahoma coach Barry Switzer at the helm — but Buffalo has rarely even won its division in the last 20 years.

Perhaps it is a reminder that, for good or ill, time marches on.