Super Bowl Monday

by Adam Lazarus

  “‘This is a chance to go to the Super Bowl. Don’t you understand what’s on the line here. . . . I’ve got my one chance to go and I’ve got to do everything I can think of to get there.’”

  Talley did do everything: he finished with four tackles, two interceptions, and spent the rest of the afternoon charging up the Bills’ sideline.

  “I was on everybody, yelling at everybody, shouting ‘Come on! Let’s go! Let’s go! We gotta do this!’ And we never let up.”

  The second quarter proved just as rich for Buffalo, and just as harrowing for the Raiders. A short touchdown run by Kenneth Davis, Thomas’ backup, increased the Bills’ lead to twenty-four points. And when Kelly threaded a pass downfield through double coverage to Steve Tasker, setting up a first and goal, the game was officially a blowout.

  Bills fans at Rich Stadium could now relish every moment of the decades-overdue victory. But for millions of television viewers across the nation, Buffalo’s championship coronation was abruptly halted.

  “We understand there are some important developments in the Gulf crisis,” Dick Enberg told the audience. “We go to NBC News and Garrick Utley.”

  “Yes Dick,” said Utley, “We’re going right to Saudi Arabia, there appears to have been a missile attack against the big base there. We’re going to [Saudi Arabia] to get the situation.”

  The screen cut to a fairly young, handsome man standing on a rooftop at night, shouting out orders to a camera crew.

  “Get us up in audio,” he said, waving his arm up and down.

  “Please, get us up,” he repeated, pointing to someone offscreen.

  The reporter readjusted a tiny microphone attached to his vest.

  “Hello, New York, this is Saudi Arabia. This is not a drill,” he said as he shot a look off into the pitch-black horizon.

  “Hello, New York, this is Saudi Arabia. This is not a drill,” he repeated. Now he waved a gas mask in front of the camera.

  The man was Arthur Kent, a thirty-seven-year-old Canadian-born television journalist. During the ensuing weeks, Kent’s name, and the powerful image of him standing on that hotel rooftop would become inextricably linked to the Persian Gulf War.

  “We’re firing Patriots. We’ve got flares and we’ve got sirens.

  “Let’s go, focus,” he shouted.

  A harried Kent turned back into the night, then frenziedly recoiled and ducked.

  “There goes a Patriot. Let’s go!”

  “Arthur Kent, you are now live from Saudi Arabia, tell us what has happened” said Utley. The scene viewers had just watched was taped footage from a few minutes earlier.

  There was no update from Kent.

  “We apparently do not have audio, from Arthur Kent,” said Utley, only adding to the hectic drama. “But just to recap quickly, a few minutes ago, a number of Patriot missiles—those are the U.S. antimissile missiles—were fired from the big base there in Saudi Arabia—apparently, against incoming missiles from Iraq. We will bring you further details as soon as we get them from Arthur Kent on the scene there. Now back to the game and Dick Enberg.”

  “Boy, Garrick, that’s sobering news from the Middle East,” said Enberg, resuming the live action from Orchard Park, New York. “Boy, the perspective changes so dramatically when we get the real important news of this day.”

  During the newsbreak, Kenneth Davis scored his second rushing touchdown in less than six minutes. Buffalo now led by the absurd score of 34-3, barely a quarter-and-a-half into the game. Cornerback Nate Odomes then picked off Jay Schroeder on the Raiders’ following offensive snap. Kelly’s K-Gun soon scored their fifth touchdown, thanks to another Los Angeles turnover gift.

  “The Buffalo Bills and their fans can start thinking seriously about Super Bowl XXV. But we have other, more serious thoughts, as we have another NBC News report coming up shortly,” said Enberg, during a brief Thurman Thomas rush. “So we’ll leave Rich Stadium in Buffalo. We turn you now to NBC News and Garrick Utley.”

  Utley handed off the scene to Saudi Arabia: Kent’s audio had been connected.

  Garrick, very suddenly, we heard the loud boom, the report of the firing of a Patriot antimissile missile. Suddenly flares were flying, sirens started to sound, and we realized that we were under the most intense air-raid warning that we have witnessed since the beginning of Operation Desert Storm. You’ll remember that three nights ago, an incoming Iraqi long-range missile—thought to be a Scud or an improved Scud missile was intercepted and destroyed just about seventeen thousand feet above our position here by one of those Patriot missiles. Tonight, we’ve seen four separate launchings.

  With sirens blaring in the background, Kent continued to narrate the action.

  “What will be happening now is that on the air base and here at our location in this hotel, people will be heading for the shelters. They will be on maximum, MOP-alert, which means they will be donning their chemical warfare protective suits and clothing, which we’re keeping close at hand here. But we would remind you that we have decided, as we have in past, that we will continue broadcasting to you through these attacks.”

  “Well Arthur, tell us, the people going into the bunker, are they being told to do so by the military and, if so, should you be going now? “ Utley asked.

  “In all likelihood, Garrick” responded Kent, “that would be a wise course of action if we were not concerned with making sure that we were broadcasting to you. But we’ve handled this kind of threat before. We’re dealing with conventional warheads as we’ve seen in Israel and those of us here feel we should stay at our post.”

  “Arthur, Arthur,” Utley interrupted. “Thank you very much. Go, go into the bunker with the others. We have your videotape report from earlier on. We’ll get back to you and you can come back and report on the latest events there. But go now into the bunker.”

  Kent and his crew remained atop their hotel roof throughout the evening as the periodic air attacks continued.

  

  The Raiders’ defensive woes—they yielded a playoff record 387 yards in the first half—were compounded by complete ineptitude on offense: three punts, three turnovers, and a measly 108 yards of offense (more than half of which came during the Raiders’ first two offensive plays).

  “We had the kind of day where it seemed we couldn’t do anything right,” said Schroeder. “It was a heck of a time to have a game like that.”

  Eventually, the first half came to a merciful end, and both teams headed toward the locker room.

  “With an insurmountable lead of 41-3,” NBC’s Bob Costas told his viewing audience, “they are thirty minutes of football from the Super Bowl.”

  Any halftime interpretations of the first-half action by NBC’s studio

  analysts—Paul Maguire and Will McDonough joined Costas in the New York studio—was completely unnecessary. Instead, the millions watching the game at home listened more intently to additional updates from Kent live in Saudi Arabia, a taped interview with the commander of the Allied Forces, General Norman Schwarzkopf, and a detailed report from the Pentagon by NBC News’ Fred Francis. It was easy for viewers to forget that an entire half of football remained.

  The Bills outscored Los Angeles 10-0 once the third period began and sent the Raiders back to warm and sunny California with the most lopsided playoff defeat since the AFL-NFL merger in 1970. The 51-3 drubbing was a true team effort: the offense scored seven times; the defense scored seven turnovers. And in the most prominent, most crushing triumph in Buffalo Bills history, Carlton Bailey paced the team with seven tackles, most of them on special teams.

  “They told me the game was being televised over in Saudi Arabia,” said Bailey, “and hopefully, [my father] had an opportunity to watch the game. Hopefully, I made him proud.”

  [1]Jackson injured his hip the week prior to the AFC Championship Game and would never play professional football again. However, the extent of his injury was not immediately known. Raiders head coach Art Shell said two days before th
e game, “He’s doubtful, but you never know. If I think he can go, he’ll go.” Sunday morning, he was expected to dress. He did not. Regardless, another installment of his “Bo Knows” Nike campaign advertisements ran twice during the television broadcast.

  4

  A Young Man’s Game

  When you’ve got a young kid on that sideline who’s hungry and trying to play, you keep him off the field, whatever it takes because if you come out you’ll be on the bench.

  —Running back Willard Harrell’s advice to St. Louis Cardinal teammate Ottis Anderson, circa 1981

  For more than a decade, Ottis Anderson never needed to look over his shoulder, at his team’s sideline, and worry about some young kid taking his job. At Forest Hill High School in West Palm Beach, he was among the finest running backs in the state of Florida. The University of Miami offered a scholarship to the eighteen-year-old raised an hour south of the Coral Gables campus. During Anderson’s first preseason, head coach Carl Selmer promoted him to the varsity. By late September, the true freshman was carrying the ball during critical fourth-quarter snaps of the Hurricanes’ near-upset of the top-ranked, reigning, and eventual repeat, national champion Oklahoma Sooners. Two months later, he totaled 148 rushing and receiving yards against Notre Dame.

  As a sophomore for the floundering Hurricanes program, Anderson became the offense’s centerpiece, as his 213 carries set a new school record. He finished just thirty-three yards shy of Miami’s single-season rushing mark.

  Given the prowess he had during the mid-1970s—and the powerful build with sprinter’s speed—Ottis Jerome Anderson was appropriately dubbed “O. J.” And in the middle of his Miami career, the nickname became more than just homage to Orenthal James “O. J.” Simpson, the Heisman Trophy–winning superstar. By his junior season, Anderson was running the same plays as the great Buffalo Bills rusher.

  Consecutive 3-8 seasons prompted the Hurricanes’ athletics department to dismiss Carl Selmer after the 1976 season and hire former Bills head coach Lou Saban. Apart from winning consecutive AFL titles, Saban presided over the team while Simpson rewrote professional football’s record books. Simpson never rushed for one thousand yards under any other head coach.[1]

  “I hope he runs the same things he did at Buffalo with O. J. Simpson,” Anderson said upon Saban’s hire.

  Saban coaxed Simpson-like statistics during Anderson’s senior season: 1,266 yards and a 5.7 yards-per-carry average. Despite a one-sided attack—the passing game was so dreadful that eighteen-year-old freshman Jim Kelly nearly won the quarterback job—Anderson became one of the nation’s top runners and set the school’s career yardage figure.

  The historic résumé (he remains Miami’s all-time leader in rushing yards and attempts) along with his size and speed enticed pro suitors. In the 1979 NFL draft, St. Louis chose Anderson with their first-round selection.

  “He shows up to that first minicamp, and I think like all of my teammates, my first impression was, ‘Wow, this guy is a lot bigger than I thought he was going to be,’” Cardinals Hall of Fame lineman Dan Dierdorf recalled. “The thing of it was that he just had such deceptive speed. . . . I can’t begin to tell you how many yards he got by bouncing it to the outside and breaking containment on a defense because they thought they took the proper angle to tackle him. And he would beat them to the corner because he was just so much faster than he looked. He constantly made defensive guys look bad.”

  The Cardinals were fortunate that Anderson was still available when they selected eighth. Picking one spot earlier was the Giants, a team desperately needing a running back. New Yorkers responded with “booing, hissing, cursing and fist-waving” when newly hired general manager George Young shocked everyone by selecting a quarterback from Morehead State, Phil Simms.

  St. Louis fans, however, were delighted to have Anderson. As a rookie, he tallied nine one-hundred-yard games, including a dominant late-season performance in the team’s 29-20 victory over the team that passed on him in May’s draft.

  “He’s a great running back,” Giants head coach Ray Perkins said after Anderson’s twenty-nine carries, 140 yards, and two touchdowns. “He might go down as the greatest there’s ever been.”

  Anderson finished 1979 with 1,605 yards rushing (a record for first-year backs), earned the Associated Press’ Rookie of the Year Award, and first-team all-pro honors. Despite another disappointing team season for the 5-11 Cardinals, Anderson’s presence energized his teammates.

  “I’d like to thank O. J. Anderson for making football fun again,” all-pro offensive lineman Bob Young said at a postseason banquet.

  Fun continued over the next five years. He rushed for more than eleven hundred yards in all but one season (the strike-shortened 1982 campaign) and soon reached eleventh on the all-time leading-rusher list.

  But 1985 was a disaster for both Anderson and the Cardinals. A 3-1 record to open the season inspired hope within the players, the organization, and dejected St. Louis fans. Foot and calf injuries to their star back contributed to a 2-10 finish. An aching Anderson played in only three games during the team’s downward spiral.

  Achieving only one playoff berth during the previous decade prompted a change in leadership, and management brought in Dallas Cowboys assistant Gene Stallings to redirect their fortunes. Toward the end of the 1985 season, Stump Mitchell performed well in Anderson’s place. Stallings recognized the value of an offense featuring Mitchell, the smaller, quicker runner, and the powerful workhorse Anderson, and split the carries between both backs. Not pleased with a reduced role, Anderson lashed out toward the end of the 1986 season opener. Stallings used Mitchell exclusively at the end of a 16-10 loss to the Rams, sparking a heated sideline argument. Anderson demanded to be traded.

  St. Louis shipped Anderson—the franchise’s twenty-nine-year-old all-time leading rusher—to the New York Giants for a pair of draft picks. And although he went on to score a touchdown in Super Bowl XXI, 1986 was largely uneventful for Anderson: thirty-one carries for eighty-seven yards during his fourteen regular and postseason games.

  He contributed even less (two rushing attempts despite not missing games due to injury) the next season before his role increased a bit in 1988. That December he helped to end the playoff hopes of his former team—now the Phoenix Cardinals—and old boss Gene Stallings, scoring three second-half touchdowns in a late-season game at the Meadowlands.

  Still, the team’s feature back, Joe Morris, carried the ball over three hundred times that season, far more than Anderson’s sixty-five rushes. The Giants allowed Anderson’s contract to expire the following spring and added two running backs—Lewis Tillman and Dave Meggett—in April’s draft. New York eventually signed Anderson to a deal (a considerable pay cut) later that summer. He was a long shot to make the roster: thirty-two-year-old running backs don’t usually survive training camps.

  “Every year, people say you’re 30-something and you’ve been in the league X amount of years. They start writing you off. I don’t think I’m old. I think the media feels that if you’ve been in the league five years you’re good and if you’re under 30, good. Once you’re over 30, they think you’re over the hill. It’s supposed to be a young man’s game.”

  But Joe Morris broke his ankle in the team’s final preseason game and Anderson set out to prove that he could carry the load. During his first start in three seasons, Anderson gained ninety-three yards on twenty-three carries and scored a critical fourth-quarter touchdown in the Giants’ win. He remained healthy and a career-high fourteen touchdowns helped New York win the NFC East title. Another milestone meant more to Anderson than any previous achievement.

  “This was my sweetest 1,000-yard season. It happened so late in my career. Nobody felt I had anything left. Nobody claimed me. Nobody thought I was worth the risk,” he said. “Nobody believed that Ottis Anderson could help the Giants win.”

  Despite 120 yards and a touchdown, Anderson couldn’t help the Giants defeat the Rams in the first round of
the playoffs, and for a second straight off-season, New York did not protect Anderson from free agency. Again, the Giants drafted his replacement that April, this time with their first-round selection. Big, quick, and durable, Georgia Bulldog Rodney Hampton resembled Anderson in every way, except that he was twelve years younger.

  “I don’t think anybody is interested in me,” Anderson said about his prospects of playing in 1990. “My financial planner called a few teams: Kansas City, Seattle, Miami, Phoenix. They said, yeah, he had a good year. That’s as far as they went.”

  The Giants extended a one-year deal, which he accepted. And while the Giants’ trio of young backs (Hampton, Meggett, and Tillman) waited hungrily on the sidelines, week after week, Anderson managed to keep them there—until December.

  During the comeback victory over Minnesota—the day that began with Parcells’ dislodged kidney stones and ended with Lawrence Taylor’s “one man show”—Anderson recorded both touchdowns in the 23-15 win. In addition to the go-ahead score, he even grabbed a piece of history in the fourth quarter, becoming just the eighth man in league history to surpass ten thousand career rushing yards.

  But Anderson finished the game with twenty-six yards on fifteen carries, an increasingly typical stat line for him that season. Rodney Hampton, not Anderson, had served as the workhorse that day, carrying the ball nineteen times for seventy-eight yards. Trailing 20-15 midway through the fourth quarter, the Giants relied on their big rookie. Hampton ran the ball on five of eight plays (including an eleven-yard gain that netted a vital first down) during the go-ahead touchdown drive.

  “The passing of the torch may have been consummated yesterday,” a Newsday writer stated the next day. “While Anderson has shown some signs of weary legs in recent weeks, Hampton appears ready to assume the role as the Giants’ feature back.”

  Hampton followed up that “breakout” game with another in the loss to Buffalo. (His forty-one-yard run in the game’s opening minutes set up New York’s only touchdown.) Still Hampton did little to mask the Giants’ offensive deficiencies; deficiencies largely caused by their starting quarterback’s absence. With Simms sidelined due to his foot injury, the Giants failed repeatedly on short-yardage situations. Twice the Bills stuffed Anderson on third and short, the most critical coming late in the third period as the Giants, trailing 14-10, were on Buffalo’s three-yard line.