“There was strong sentiment from some people working there who didn’t want me back,” Parcells says. “Wellington Mara wasn’t one of them. He supported my return. That’s what I’ve heard. But my expectations were never really very high.”
Curtis Martin locked in his new nickname during his second year by rushing for 1,152 yards and scoring 14 touchdowns. Although he hadn’t been an NFL fan growing up, Boy Wonder was psyched about facing his hometown team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, in the playoffs. But Parcells ignored the angle, reminding the runner that it would be his first postseason contest since high school. Pitt hadn’t earned a bowl appearance while Martin was at the program, and every significant game of his pro career had occurred in the regular season.
During practices leading to the AFC divisional affair, the shifty runner couldn’t avoid Parcells’s barbs. Anytime Martin hit the hole without enough oomph, as determined by Parcells, the coach alluded to his postseason inexperience. One time, after Martin flubbed by missing a hole, Parcells said, “Curtis, you’re suffering from BGD.”
Martin asked, “What’s that?”
“That’s big-game disease, son. You’ve got it. You don’t know how to act in big games. What did you play in Pitt? The Toilet Bowl? Oh, that’s right. You didn’t even make it to the Toilet. You didn’t play any bowl game at Pitt.”
Parcells also questioned Martin’s breakaway speed by invoking Steelers cornerback Rod Woodson, one of the NFL’s fastest players. Boy Wonder’s career-long run had been 57 yards in an October 16 loss to the Redskins, but Parcells predicted that Woodson would run down Martin to prevent any such gain. “You’ll get a 25-yard run when you should have had 50.”
Tight end Keith Byars noticed that Parcells’s barrage seemed to uncharacteristically ruffle Martin, so the eleven-year veteran pulled the second-year player aside. “Curtis, man, you’re going to carry this team.” By the end of the week Byars figured that his assurances had soothed Martin, but in New England’s locker room before the 12:30 p.m. kickoff, the quiet runner was acting like a man possessed. Byars recalls, “Curtis has got a look in his eye on game day like I’d never seen before. I’m like, ‘I hope Bill didn’t overdo it.’ I’d seen what Bill was doing all week long, but I could only tell Curtis so much. Curtis has got to figure this out on his own. So now Curtis is at a crossroad: Will he step up and play big in the big game, or will he just be another guy?”
Before the game, Kraft approached Parcells to wish him luck. The head coach responded by telling the owner, “I have something you’ll appreciate.” Parcells reached into his right pants pocket and pulled out a gold pendant inscribed with the Hebrew word chai, meaning “life.” Parcells’s close friend, a Jewish resident of New Jersey named Bobby Green, had given it to him for luck. Parcells always kept the chai in his pocket while on the sidelines, noting that one of the two Hebrew letters resembled an upside-down goalpost.
Kraft smiled in appreciation of Parcells’s gesture, but the owner flipped the jewelry around and informed his coach, “You’re holding it backward. Remember, Hebrew is read right to left.”
Temperatures sat in the low forties when Curtis Martin Jr. emerged from the tunnel for warm-ups and jogged into a thick fog engulfing Foxboro Stadium. Wearing white gloves with matching elbow pads, Boy Wonder swooped both hands together from his sides in a slow, rhythmic clap. Spectators roared after making him out on the mist-filled gridiron.
From the opening kickoff Martin was easier to spot than any other player, running with typical panache. Wideout Terry Glenn parlayed Bledsoe’s screen pass into a 53-yard scamper just short of the goal line. Martin capped the drive with a two-yard gallop that opened the scoring. Later in the period, Byars’s 34-yard touchdown on a screen pass put New England up 14–0.
Despite his strong early play in the big game, Martin still yearned to refute Parcells’s doubts about his breakaway ability. In the second quarter New England had possession on its 22-yard line when Bledsoe pitched right to Martin, who sliced up the middle. Martin zigged toward the left sideline, where Steelers safety Carnell Lake moved to cut him off. Suddenly Boy Wonder zagged right, causing Lake’s left hand to slide off his chest as the defender fell to the ground.
By juking the safety Martin had placed all the Steelers defenders in his rearview mirror, and it was off to the races. Martin shifted to a gear that no one, not even Woodson, was going to match. Crossing the goal line for a 78-yard touchdown, the second-longest run in playoff history, Boy Wonder slowed up and high-stepped toward the end-zone seats. Leading with his right hand, which cradled the pigskin, Martin rammed the wall in front of giddy fans who reached down to touch him.
The cathartic sprint increased New England’s lead to 21–0, which stayed that way until halftime. During intermission New York Daily News columnist Mike Lupica visited Kraft’s private suite looking for insight on the NFL’s hottest topic: Bill Parcells’s future. Kraft used the moment to extend his coach an olive branch in the next day’s paper, but the owner’s money quote captured the irreconcilable differences at play. “I want to keep him, but I’m not going to give him final say.” As part of Kraft’s argument for a democratic approach to personnel decisions, he noted the contributions being made by Terry Glenn.
While the rookie wideout was on his way to another terrific game with 69 receiving yards, the afternoon belonged to Curtis Martin, who never let up. Boy Wonder punctuated his performance with a 23-yard scoring run in the final quarter. He ended up with a franchise-record 166 rushing yards, highlighted by three touchdowns. New England’s 28–3 victory was dubbed “Fog Bowl II,” after the original one that had taken place at Chicago’s Soldier Field on New Year’s Eve in 1988, when Mike Ditka’s Bears defeated Buddy Ryan’s Eagles 20–12 in limited visibility.
Perhaps no one was more pleased with Boy Wonder’s clutch performance than his supposed skeptic. Willie McGinest explains, “Parcells took a lot of pride in giving kids like us a shot, kids from the ’hood. And he took pride in seeing us excel. He will never say it, but he’s the coach most responsible for that.”
Once again, Bill Parcells prepared to face a disciple in the playoffs. Tom Coughlin’s Jacksonville Jaguars visited Foxboro Stadium on January 12 to decide a Super Bowl appearance. In just its second year of existence, Jacksonville had overcome a 4-7 start by winning five straight for a wild-card berth that had earned Coughlin Coach of the Year honors. He saw Bill Parcells as the person who had taught him far more about football than anyone else.
Among Parcells’s disciples Coughlin was the most similar in demeanor and style. Even the Jaguars head coach’s office was meticulous, like his mentor’s, with a few personal touches, such as a picture of Coughlin and Parcells locking arms. Seemingly alter egos, the two were strong leaders with gruff demeanors. Coughlin’s sense of humor was more likely to show up in one-on-one conversations, while Parcells, when in the mood, could leave a group of people in stitches. At a press conference three days before the AFC Championship, Parcells couldn’t resist when asked about Terry Glenn’s season. Smiling, Parcells replied, “She’s doing good.” The packed room burst out into laughter at the coach’s stubborn political incorrectness. With Glenn now one of Parcells’s favorite Patriots, no controversy ensued.
After spurning the Giants in 1993 to remain at Boston College, Coughlin had joined the Jaguars for their inaugural season. The twenty-eight-team NFL decided to add two clubs for its 1995 edition. Charlotte, North Carolina, and former NFL wideout turned owner Jerry Richardson were awarded an expansion team: the Carolina Panthers. With James Orthwein’s support, St. Louis was expected to win the other new franchise, but in a surprising decision, the NFL awarded its thirtieth team to Jacksonville, Florida, and shoe businessman Wayne Weaver. Tom Coughlin landed the head-coaching job, which included GM authority, partly because Weaver was impressed by his intensity. Supported by a strong endorsement from Parcells, Coughlin beat out 49ers offensive coordinator Mike Shanahan and Vikings defensive coordinator Tony Dungy.
/> With their teams in different divisions, Parcells became Coughlin’s football consigliere in a role similar to the one he played when Bill Belichick was at Cleveland. The Patriots boss received weekly phone calls concerning Jaguars matters. Despite giving continuing-education lessons, Parcells also picked up ideas from Coughlin. The regular communication persisted after New England and Jacksonville both made surprising playoff appearances after withstanding early-season struggles.
While rooting for each other the ex-compatriots never mentioned the possibility of meeting in the AFC Championship. The Jaguars were heavy underdogs against Mike Shanahan’s Broncos, the AFC’s top seed at 13-3. However, Jacksonville shocked Denver, 30–27, on the road, for one of the greatest upsets in playoff history, setting up a championship game between Bill Parcells’s Patriots and Tom Coughlin’s Jaguars. The two kindred spirits had mixed feelings about one of them ending the other’s season in a game with such high stakes.
A different story line creating buzz on the morning of the AFC Championship left Parcells furious. The Boston Herald published an article based on anonymous sources that read like a legal threat to Parcells: contractually, Kraft could block him from coaching another team in 1997 unless the owner received satisfactory compensation, specifically draft picks. When Will McDonough arrived in Parcells’s office at 9 a.m. to tape an interview for NBC’s pregame show, the head coach vented. “Imagine, we’re here today playing for a spot in the Super Bowl, and Kraft is planting this garbage in the paper. This is unbelievable. This never stops.”
McDonough decided to play the role of mediator between his two close friends, urging Parcells to meet Kraft as soon as possible to defuse the situation before the titanic game’s 4 p.m. kickoff. Then McDonough persuaded Kraft to head to the stadium early, arranging to see the owner first. Moments like these were the reason that McDonough sometimes generated criticism for being too close to the principals he covered, but with friends like Paul Tagliabue and Al Davis, plus an unequaled Rolodex, the influential sportswriter was the last of a breed who could occasionally act as kingmakers.
Parcells changed into his coaching clothes before sitting behind his desk, disrupting his pregame ritual to wait for Kraft. Around noon McDonough and Kraft walked into Parcells’s office together. The owner denied being the source of the story. Regardless, McDonough reminded his two buddies of their vow to take the high road.
Parcells looked up at Kraft standing next to McDonough and made a proposal. “Bob, this is what I’m going to do. When the season is over, I’m going to say that it’s time for me to move on, that I’ve enjoyed my time here. The fans were great. You treated me well. I wish you the best, and I even give you a plug for a new stadium. The next day, you notify Tagliabue that I am free and clear with no further obligations to the New England Patriots.”
Parcells extended his right hand across the desk, anticipating a handshake agreement, but Kraft quickly pulled back. Feeling browbeaten, the owner responded firmly, “We shouldn’t even be having this conversation. Our agreement is to talk when the year is over.”
Just hours before the AFC Championship, relations between New England’s owner and its head coach had reached a boil.
Braving a single-digit windchill temperature, 60,190 spectators filled Foxboro Stadium on a gusty afternoon. Jacksonville was forced to punt on its first possession, but things got worse when a high snap allowed New England to tackle punter Bryan Barker only four yards from the end zone. Boy Wonder soon scored on a one-yard dash, his fifteenth straight home game with a touchdown.
Jacksonville’s early gaffe presaged sloppiness from both teams. In the second quarter Drew Bledsoe threw an interception that led to a 32-yard field goal by Jacksonville, making the score 7–3. Midway through the period, the Jaguars suffered another special-teams blunder when punt returner Chris Hudson fumbled the ball in Jacksonville territory. New England recovered it at the 19, setting up a 29-yard field-goal attempt.
Then suddenly the stadium plunged into darkness. After an eleven-minute delay because of a power outage that reinforced the notoriety of perhaps the NFL’s worst building, Vinatieri’s kick made the score 10–3. Both offenses produced mostly feeble drives as New England added another short field goal for a 10-point lead at halftime.
The third quarter brought more of the same as Bledsoe lost a fumble that the Jaguars parlayed into a 28-yard field goal, cutting the score to 13–6. Pro Bowl quarterback Mark Brunell, who had entered the game as the league leader in passing yards, struggled throughout the afternoon while facing heavy pressure, especially from Willie McGinest. Brunell’s best stretch came in the final quarter, setting up a second-and-goal at New England’s 5. But with less than four minutes left, Patriots free safety Willie Clay intercepted a pass in the end zone by stepping in front of tight end Derek Brown.
Another failed offensive series by the Patriots gave Jacksonville the ball at its own 42 with 2:36 left. However, Patriots linebacker Chris Slade’s hit on tailback James Stewart caused a fumble that cornerback Otis Smith scooped up and returned 47 yards for a touchdown to clinch the outcome: a 20–6 victory.
New England’s long-suffering fans went bonkers as the fireworks exploding outside the stadium marked the Patriots’ propulsion to Super Bowl XXXI versus Mike Holmgren’s Packers. Bill Parcells and Tom Coughlin hugged on the field as New England’s players held their helmets in the air, acknowledging the full house that had endured the bone-chilling conditions. Before heading to the locker room, the Patriots gathered around Parcells and Kraft for the championship trophy presentation.
Addressing a media throng, Kraft described the victory as among the best moments of his life. He praised Parcells as “the greatest coach in the history of the game,” before quickly amending the hyperbole to “in modern times.” Parcells became only the second coach after Don Shula to guide two different teams to the Super Bowl. However, animosity lingered from the Patriots’ having thrown down the legal gauntlet in the morning newspaper, compounded by the ill-fated meeting just hours before kickoff. With the franchise only one victory away from NFL nirvana, the unfolding drama involving the owner and head coach threatened to divert much of the attention.
Duane Charles Parcells at age two. Duane grew to dislike his birth name, deeming it unusual and perhaps feminine. When in the eighth grade he was constantly mistaken for someone named Bill, he declined to correct anyone. Within a year, only Ida and Charles called their son by his real name. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
Four-year-old Duane in Juliet, Illinois, where his father had moved the family for one year while working as a corporate attorney for the United States Rubber Company. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
Don, seven, and Duane, nine, outside their home in Hasbrouck Heights, New Jersey, in 1950. Four years earlier, their father, Charles, had paid $8,000 for the single-story house in the New York City suburb, converting its attic into a bedroom for his boys. Just a few blocks away, the vocalist Frank Sinatra lived with his wife, Nancy, and a newborn girl. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
Eleven-year-old Duane, a sixth grader in Euclid Elementary School, where he was one of its biggest students, weighing more than 160 pounds. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
Members of the Hasbrouck Heights Peanuts: (from left) Danny Astrella, thirteen; George Swede, thirteen; Don Parcells, nine; Duane Parcells; eleven, in 1952. George’s eight-year-old brother, Jerry, kneels in front of the baseball gang. After a tryout, Duane made the team as a second baseman—his first organized competition. The peewee club had been created in 1950 because Little League hadn’t yet reached Hasbrouck Heights. Courtesy of George Swede
Mickey Corcoran, head coach of River Dell High’s basketball team, gathers his charges on their home court in Oradell, New Jersey, circa 1958. Power forward Bill Parcells (#50), the Golden Hawks’ best player, possessed a soft shooting touch, slick post-up moves, rebounding prowess, and an explosive temper that Corcoran had to suppress. Like his father, Bill emerged as one of the best hoopsters in North Jersey an
d a three-sport star. Courtesy of Mickey Corcoran
Bill’s parents, Ida and Charles, in 1962. Despite a slender frame, Charles earned the nickname “Chubby” as a high school star in football, basketball, and track during the late 1920s. He focused on football at Georgetown as one of the top halfbacks in the East. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
Bill Parcells on Army’s practice field in 1967, his first year as defensive-line coach for the Black Knights. The twenty-six-year-old was the youngest member of a talented staff containing several future head coaches. At West Point, Parcells met Bobby Knight, in his third season as Army’s head basketball coach, and the two formed a deep bond that would last a lifetime. In these formative years, ending in 1969, Parcells learned the importance of a strong staff and how improving special teams was perhaps the quickest way to revitalize an entire football team. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
Bill Parcells in 1968 with one of his charges, Steve Yarnell. The high-strung yet charismatic Parcells related well to his players, some of whom were only a few years younger. Yarnell spent almost two decades as an FBI special agent before accepting Parcells’s offer in 1997 to oversee Jets security. Courtesy of Bill Parcells
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