His ribs mended, Foley returned to a starting role for an October 11 contest at St. Louis, but he was performing poorly as the Rams trampled New York, prompting Parcells to yank him in the third quarter. Testaverde entered the game and threw New York’s sole touchdown in a 30–10 loss. At 2-3, the Jets faced a familiar opponent for their most important game of the season to date: the undefeated Patriots at Foxboro Stadium on Monday Night Football.
Trying to squash a quarterback controversy, Parcells named Testaverde the starter indefinitely, but during Friday’s practice, three days from the October 19 showdown, Parcells’s team looked undisciplined and uninspired. Players executed even the basics poorly, as linemen continuously jumped offside. About half an hour into the scheduled ninety-minute session, Parcells whistled it to a stop.
He rounded up his staff and said, “That’s it. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Perplexed, Parcells’s coaches looked at each other, prompting him to reiterate, “We’re leaving practice right now.” He ordered the coaches to head into the building for an impromptu meeting. Players milled around on the field, talking to one another, hesitant to leave. Back inside, Parcells sat at the head of a table and spent the next several minutes railing about specific players.
Todd Haley recalls, “As a young coach I don’t know anything, so I’m wondering to myself, ‘What is going on?’ We’re about to play the game of the year, and here he is going down the whole roster, venting about all the players he can’t stand. Finally, I just can’t take it anymore. I say, ‘So, are we just quitting?’ Well, that drives him crazy.”
Parcells ordered the neophyte coach to shut up and go see whether the players were still on the field. When he did, Haley found fullback Richie Anderson and linebacker Bryan Cox overseeing a lively practice, using a script left behind by one of Parcells’s assistants. After receiving Haley’s intelligence, Parcells returned to his office, peeking out his window to confirm it. His players were even running sprints, knowing that Parcells would have ended practice with the dreaded exercise. Their actions stood in stark contrast to the way Texas Tech’s defensive players had reacted in 1975, when they were so quick to get off the field after a similar outburst by Parcells.
More than two decades later, Parcells had come a long way from being a young defensive coordinator disliked by many of his new players. Nonetheless, cutting short Gang Green’s practice before a monumental game posed a big risk for a team only two seasons removed from a 1-15 record. Romeo Crennel, Parcells’s former colleague at Texas Tech, says, “I was surprised by Bill’s decision, but he felt that he really needed to get the players’ attention. He didn’t know how it was going to turn out. Either they were going to try to make things right, or they were going to fall apart and not finish practice. The episode ended up pulling the team together.”
The Monday-night affair at Foxboro Stadium lacked the fervor of the Tuna Bowl, but with eight ex-Patriots, including Curtis Martin, sporting throwback Jets uniforms, the showdown was once again laden with emotion. Following pregame fireworks, most of the 60,062 spectators booed Boy Wonder each time he touched the ball. During a competitive, hard-fought contest, he showed the hecklers his familiar mettle and shiftiness. New England was leading 14–10 in the final period when Martin’s 12-yard run put the Jets on his former team’s 1. Then, with less than nine minutes left, Jets tight end Kyle Brady caught a short pass for what would be the game winner. Gang Green triumphed, 24–14, as Testaverde finished with three touchdowns passes, including two to Brady, and Boy Wonder collected 107 rushing yards in an I-work-hard-for-my-money performance.
The upset victory marked a turning point, as Gang Green pivoted into a hot streak near midseason. Vinny Testaverde cemented his starting role, thriving in a well-balanced offense that featured Keyshawn Johnson, Wayne Chrebet, and Curtis Martin. Belichick’s defense, starring cornerback Aaron Glenn and linebacker Mo Lewis, was transforming into one of the league’s stingiest units. But even as Gang Green won four straight, center Kevin Mawae noticed a dynamic he had never experienced during his first four NFL seasons: winning streaks, a salve when he played for the Seahawks, failed to generate a kinder, gentler atmosphere for this team.
“You did not want to get caught in the hallway with Bill,” Mawae says, “because you never knew whether he was going to say hi to you or he was going to rip you. One day, I’m walking down the hallway. Bill is going one way; I’m going the other. The first thing I think is: ‘Crap!’ Because no matter what you do, you can’t win with him.”
Mawae was heading to a meeting that included watching film.
Walking past Parcells, he said, “Coach, how are you doing?”
Parcells snapped, “You don’t worry about me! You just worry about blocking your goddamn guy Sunday.”
The big offensive lineman kept walking as his heart raced.
Mawae laughs now. “That was Bill’s way of saying hi.”
Brusque or eloquent, hilarious or dyspeptic, charming or caustic—players never knew which side of Parcells’s personality he would flash. “He’s like a kaleidoscope,” Judy says. Dan Henning agrees. “You talk to five people, they see him five different ways. And their assessments are all correct, because he can act five different ways. He plans to be different.”
Whether Parcells chose his silver tongue or the acid-edged alternative, uncanny timing gave his utterances maximum impact. He knew which subjects constituted an athlete’s third rail, and often zapped players at their most vulnerable moments.
A November 15 setback at Indianapolis seemed to justify Parcells’s crusade against complacency. Despite entering the game with just one victory, the Colts halted Gang Green’s streak, 24–23, at the RCA Dome after tailback Marshall Faulk led a 13-point comeback. Boy Wonder, though, continued to justify Parcells’s bold decision to sign him to an unprecedented contract, gaining 134 yards on 28 carries.
The Jets proved that the meltdown was merely a hiccup by earning a 24–3 road victory versus Jeff Fisher’s Oilers, who were also in the playoff hunt. Gang Green’s record stood at 7-4 for Leon Hess’s annual Thanksgiving chat, the one time each year that the owner directly addressed his players. On Thursday, November 26, Hess attended practice to give his twenty-second consecutive pep talk. Wearing a knitted green hat, the owner sat on a folding chair on the sideline.
At the end of a spirited session, Hess signaled his readiness to Parcells, who called his players over to gather around their owner. In characteristically brief remarks, Hess told his team that it had been performing well enough to make the playoffs, and wished the players luck in their upcoming game versus the Carolina Panthers. He added that he was pleased at the way his guys were representing the franchise and avoiding trouble off the field.
During the three-minute chat, the tired players stood rapt, hanging on every word. Many of them were intrigued by Hess’s quiet persona. “A speak-quietly-but-walk-with-a-big-stick guy,” Mike Tannenbaum says of Hess. “He was a man’s man. All he really wanted to do was win. And as long as we didn’t violate the U.S. Constitution, he really didn’t care how we did it.”
After his nasty divorce with Robert Kraft, Parcells found the self-effacing owner to be an ideal partner. Despite an age difference of more than a quarter century, Hess and Parcells shared many qualities, including a biting sense of humor. They also possessed the sensibilities of New Jersey natives familiar with the state’s cushy as well as seamy sides, and their Jersey experiences made them comfortable among varied ethnicities and social classes. Hess spoke with a gravelly voice even deeper than Parcells’s, and unless women were present, they often accentuated their remarks with expletives. They were both obsessively organized: Parcells’s tendency for detail extended to his home, where the clothes in his closet were arranged by size, shape, and color. Hess was fanatical about cleanliness, and regularly inspected his oil facilities; Hess gas stations, painted green and white, were known for their neatness.
Parcells ached to capture a Lombardi Trop
hy for Hess more than he had for any owner, and by late in the 1998 season the Jets resembled a contender, regularly defeating playoff-bound opponents, even on the road. Another gauge was taken on December 31 when the 9-4 Jets faced Jimmy Johnson’s Dolphins, AFC East leaders at 9-3. Parcells’s team triumphed, 21–16, in Pro Player Stadium after linebacker Chad Cascadden strip-sacked Dan Marino with less than two minutes left, and returned the fumble for a touchdown.
One memorable play in the third quarter involved Boy Wonder’s balletic moves in perhaps the most electrifying run of his young career. After taking a handoff in the backfield, Martin eluded three Dolphins defenders despite committing two Parcells no-nos: running backward and zigzagging before crossing the line of scrimmage. He made would-be tacklers look like human pretzels during a nine-yard run to give his team a 14–3 lead. Almost every defender whiffed one time or another while attempting to corral him. The display of pure talent caused teammates on Gang Green’s sideline to act like enthralled fans. The next day at Jets headquarters, they would giddily replay the sequence in slo-mo while counting the number of defenders attempting to halt Martin. Nonetheless, in the moment, when Boy Wonder trotted back to New York’s sideline, an angry head coach awaited him.
Parcells yelled, “Didn’t I tell you about that? Stop trying to make everybody miss! I don’t want a running back that dances! I don’t want a running back that wears high heels!” Parcells punctuated the tongue-lashing by barking, “And you’re carrying the ball in the wrong goddamn arm!” Late in the spectacular run, Martin had carried the pigskin with the arm closest to defenders. Proper form required cradling the ball farthest from a defender’s line of pursuit, reducing the odds of another Parcells bugaboo: fumbling.
Seeing that Boy Wonder was confounded by his harshness, Parcells lowered his decibel level to explain. “Usually those habits are not going to end well. If you don’t eliminate them, they’ll be detrimental to your team.”
But why nitpick such a sublime play?
“Because,” Parcels says now, “I was trying to train him to be the best that he could be. You can’t always judge the wisdom of choices by the results. We have a saying in football. It’s ‘NATO: Not Attached to Outcome.’ You may do something that turns out well, but it’s still not the most prudent choice. I wanted him to learn every single thing that I know about the running-back position. So whenever I saw him starting to use a habit that I knew was not good based on my experience, I got on his ass about it.
“In this case he made some judgment calls that usually result in being thrown for a loss. But his unique ability”—Parcells chuckles—“just happened to take over, and he was able to make every defender miss. So my hat’s off to him on that, but you can’t count on it happening consistently.”
Parcells compares the memorable run to an arcade game he used to play on the Jersey Shore as a kid: Skee-Ball. “You try to roll a ball up a ramp into these holes. The smallest hole’s worth 100. If you keep aiming for the 100-hole, chances are you’re not going to get a high score. In Skee-Ball, once in a long while the ball’s going to go in that hole.”
Parcells admired Cowboys great Emmitt Smith for his downhill style, toughness, and savvy. So the Jets coach urged Martin to emulate the way Smith moved to the line of scrimmage before making his cut at the last moment. Parcells noted that only a handful of tailbacks possessed this ability. The pointer was yet another way to galvanize Boy Wonder to greatness.
Leon Hess’s club was positioned to capture its first AFC East title when the Jets visited Buffalo for their next-to-last game of the regular season. On a damp, gray afternoon, Vinny Testaverde tossed two touchdowns, including a 71-yard strike to wideout Dedric Ward that snapped a 10–10 tie in the fourth quarter. With a 17–10 victory at Rich Stadium, Gang Green became the final team from the 1970 AFL-NFL merger to claim a division crown. Wideout Wayne Chrebet and defensive end Bobby Hamilton dumped a bucket of ice water over Parcells on the sideline as the head coach’s intense look softened into a smile. He hugged several players and coaches before heading toward the tunnel for the visitors’ locker room. Bryan Cox chest-bumped teammates as Mo Lewis, who’d endured several losing seasons since being drafted in 1991, screamed, “Thank you, Jesus!”
Fifteen minutes after creating Jets history, Parcells stood among his boisterous players, who wore green caps emblazoned “AFC East Champions.” Parcells called for a hush to address them inside a semicircle.
“You hear, ‘Same old Jets. Same old Jets—’ ”
Unable to complete the sentence, Parcells choked up, stopping for a minute to gather himself. Some players got teary-eyed seeing their cantankerous coach react that way. “That’s all I remember. The pause,” cornerback Ray Mickens says. “It sent chills through my body to see him like that because he was always a tough sonofabitch.”
Several players cheered the moment, giving Parcells time to pull himself together. The tough-nosed leader continued forcefully. “Well, now you’re the champs and nobody can take that away from you. You have a responsibility to keep playing that way.” Parcells then rewarded his players with two days off, which drew the loudest whoops of all. He added that the game ball would be given to their ailing owner, who had been unable to make the trip.
The Jets won their regular-season finale, 31–10, over New England, underscoring the altered fortunes of both franchises. Testaverde threw four touchdowns to set a Jets season record with 29, three more than Joe Namath in 1967, although teams played two fewer games back then. Testaverde averaged 7.4 yards rushing, evidence that he had adhered to Parcells’s ban against throwing on the run. The quarterback’s altered approach helped bring the most remarkable aspect of his year: just seven interceptions. In Testaverde’s sophomore NFL season as a Buccaneer, he had thrown 35 interceptions, the second most in NFL or AFL history. His own striking reversal mirrored that of his team.
Gang Green’s twelve victories, including five straight, established a franchise mark that earned the club an opening-round bye and its first playoff game at home since 1986. Having won most of their games by at least one touchdown, the Jets, a bumbling team BP (Before Parcells), strutted into the postseason.
• • •
During the 1990s Tom Coughlin had transformed Jacksonville into one of the conference’s best teams. In the wild-card round of the playoffs, the AFC Central champions defeated New England, 25–10, leading to a contest against Gang Green. So for the second time in three postseasons, Coughlin and Parcells matched wits. A cold afternoon brought a windchill factor of 16 degrees, yet Giants Stadium bustled with 78,817 spectators, the most ever in the building for a sporting event. They cheered while Gang Green’s opening possession, a 70-yard touchdown drive capped by Keyshawn Johnson’s 21-yard catch, set the tone for the game. The giraffe looked more like a gazelle during a chicanery-generated 10-yard run that gave New York a 17–0 lead.
That cushion helped Gang Green overcome a late comeback attempt by Mark Brunell, who would toss three touchdowns, including two in the second half, but also three picks. New York triumphed, 34–24, controlling the clock for more than 39 minutes in classic Parcells fashion.
With his virtuoso performance Keyshawn Johnson tied a team playoff record of 9 catches for 121 yards. He made a key fumble recovery and, in the game’s waning moments, became an impromptu safety to intercept Brunell’s desperation pass. Boy Wonder rushed 36 times for 124 yards while scoring 2 touchdowns. Showcasing his soft hands, he also made 6 receptions for 58 yards.
Gang Green’s first postseason victory in twelve years triggered explosions of confetti over Giants Stadium. Just two years removed from ignominy, the Jets were headed to the AFC Championship in Denver’s Mile High Stadium. Hess’s team needed just one victory in their retro jerseys to reach the franchise’s first Super Bowl since 1969.
Wearing a blue suit, a green tie, and an incandescent smile, the owner entered his team’s locker room to celebrate. Parcells took pleasure in observing him. Hess moved gingerly while interactin
g with players and coaches, but the eighty-five-year-old behaved like the giddiest person in Gang Green’s sanctum. “The joy on his face was like that of a happy little kid,” Parcells recalls. “It meant so much to him, to win at home, to make those loyal Jets fans happy. He lived for that moment. I know he did.”
To Hess’s chagrin, doctors barred him from traveling to Denver because of their concerns over his health. The Broncos constituted a formidable team as defending Super Bowl champions and the AFC’s top seed at a franchise-record 14-2. But Parcells’s confident team certainly wasn’t the same old Jets. His version boasted the NFL’s second-ranked defense with Pro Bowl seasons from Aaron Glenn and Mo Lewis, reborn under the new regime; the team’s fifth-ranked offense featured bona fide stars in Keyshawn Johnson, Curtis Martin, and Vinny Testaverde.
Swirling winds in Mile High Stadium gusted at unpredictable moments as the opening kickoff approached for the AFC Championship. Amid blustery conditions that felt much colder than the 30-degree thermometer reading, New York and Denver struggled in the first half to look like the AFC’s top two seeds. Both teams, especially the Jets, squandered scoring opportunities: Keith Byars and Curtis Martin uncharacteristically fumbled the ball away in Broncos territory, and John Elway threw an in-completion on a fourth-down attempt at New York’s 1.
John Hall’s field goal moments before intermission put the Jets up 3–0, rendering Denver scoreless at halftime for the first time since 1995. Early in the third quarter, Jets rookie tight end Blake Spence, a reserve appearing in only his sixth NFL game, blocked Tom Rouen’s punt. Gang Green recovered it at Denver’s 1. On the next play, Boy Wonder, bottled up all afternoon, plunged into the end zone, giving New York a 10–0 lead that stunned the 75,483 spectators whose team had won eighteen straight at home. Leon Hess, watching in his Park Avenue apartment, felt a sense of Super Bowl destiny. Elway, though, responded on Denver’s next offensive snap with a 47-yard completion to wideout Ed McCaffrey. Two plays later, the thirty-eight-year-old quarterback tossed an 11-yard touchdown to fullback Howard Griffith.
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