We got the ball back with maybe two minutes to play in the half, we were on our own thirty two yard line. While most teams only down by three in a game this huge, the play calling would have been somewhat conservative. But we always attacked, we never relented, it was not our style. We would live with the pass, or die with it. Four plays later we were again in their red zone, this time just inside the twenty.
We ran the ball once, then Josh called a quick hitting post to one of our wide outs, trying to get the score. The ball was thrown perfectly, Jaxon caught it, then turned to the goal line. As he turned, the linebacker reached in and knocked the ball loose, it was skipping across the turf heading right at me. I went in head first, my hands and arms extended reaching for the ball. There was a massive collision at the five yard line, I had the ball, but only for a second. I'm not sure what hit my left hand, but I immediately felt a searing pain, running up my left arm. It took several seconds before they could sort out the bodies, I was trapped on the bottom of the pile. When I was finally able to get up, I saw we had lost the fight for the ball. I looked down at my hand, it was throbbing in pain. I got up and trotted off of the field, holding my left hand against my body. The trainer met me at the sidelines, walking me back to the bench. By the time I sat down, the team doctor had arrived as well. The trainer cut my glove off of my hand, removing it in pieces. After a quick exam, the doctor sent me to the locker room for x-rays. My left hand and lower arm were once again examined, then a series of films ran at several different angles. Within minutes it was confirmed, I had broken both the Middle Phalanges in my small finger and the Metacarpal behind it. The doctor came back to the table that I was sitting on, the film in his hands.
"Brian, it's going to have to be casted but we can't do that for at least a few days. We can splint it, anchor it to the finger next to it, makeshift you a glove, it's up to you.", he advised.
"Do it.", I quickly answered.
After several medications, close to twenty minutes with the trainer, I was back with the team, my left hand securely bandaged. As soon as we hit the sidelines, I immediately began to try and catch the ball, trying to adjust my grip. Everytime the ball hit my hands, I felt a sharp pain run up my arm. Finally I was able to basically open my left hand up, using my palm to help stop the ball. It hurt like hell, but I was going to give it a try.
We opened up the second half with a long drive, capped off by a three yard run for a touchdown, we finally had a 21-17 lead. It lasted exactly two minutes, when one of their receivers beat our left corner for a sixty five yard touchdown. Before I could really catch my breath, we were back out on offense.
On the first play of the series, one of the safeties blew his coverage, I was running up the left side of the field uncovered. Just as Josh released the ball, I broke to the middle, which was a mistake. Josh had thrown the ball to the hash marks leading me on a straight line. I quickly had to turn my body and adjust, barely getting my hands on the ball before falling. I was quickly downed by a defensive player, not able to get back to my feet. I was livid with myself, I had made the wrong choice. Had I stayed on the go pattern, it might have been a touchdown instead of a thirty yard gain. We drove the ball down to their twenty two, it was third and six.
"Screen right , 89 Thief, Middle Blast on three.", Josh called.
This was a play that had been designed especially for this game, we had never ran it against an opponent. The play basically looked like our power running formation, with two wide outs, and a full backfield.
I would line up next to the right tackle, and drop back to pass block. Both running backs would run loop routes out of the back field. The offense line would stay with their blocks for a count of three, then release them forming a wall in the middle of the field. I would then slide across behind them catching the ball, then turn up field behind their blocking. The play went off as called, I stayed in tight blocking, then slipped to the center of the field. Josh back peddled from the rush just long enough to get us all in position. He lifted the ball over the out stretch arms, it fell into my hands. I turned to look up at the field, and I had three lineman in front of me. I moved left, getting behind our center and tackle, I was inside of the fifteen. When my last block was gone, I knew I was going to be close to scoring. At about the three I went airborne, the ball extended out in front of me. I was hit right at the goal line, my body spun around in mid air, then hit again driving me to the ground. I'm not sure how, but somehow I held on to the ball, the official signaling touchdown.
I got up slowly, I had taken a pretty good shot, in fact two of them. I could feel a slight tingling in my shoulder, the one I had eventually landed on. My left hand was throbbing, I could feel the pulse beating like a bass drum. I trotted off slowly , we had once again taken the lead. As they continued to show the play over and over on the big screen, it became apparent it was questionable whether or not the ball had indeed crossed the goal line. The officials went under the hood to review the play as was the rule on every score. I moved to the end of the bench and sat down, summoning for the trainer to come over. I asked him for something to dull the pain in my hand, it was getting really bad. He returned quickly with two tablets, placing them in my palm. I swallowed the tablets then leaned back on the bench, trying my best to block out the pain. I heard the crowd noise subside quickly, a sure sign the referee was returning with his verdict. I leaned forward, my head down, my eyes closed.
"After further review, the receiver had control of the ball through the plane of the goal. He retained possession through the ground, therefore the ruling on the field stands, touchdown San Diego.", he stated.
A few players came by patting my back, shaking my hand, we had just regained the lead 28-24, with just three minutes left in the third quarter, there was still a lot of football to play. Our defense took the field, Josh quickly went over to Coach Cullen, they were reviewing the overhead film of the defense. New York managed a couple of first downs but had to punt the ball back to us to open up the fourth quarter. Josh took us on another methodical drive down the field, this time having to settle for a thirty two yard field goal, extending the lead to 31-24.
Our defense took the field with ten minutes left in the game. We knew this would be a huge drive, a stop here might be the ball game. With a little over eight minutes to play they crossed over mid field, getting to our forty five yard line, another first down. After an incomplete pass, they ran a quick hitter off tackle, their back breaking into the open field. As he tried to elude our strong safety in the open field, he didn't see our defensive end behind him. As he cut back to his right, our end reached in from behind stripping the ball from his grasp. The ball rolled toward the middle of the field, one of our corners finally recovering it at our own twenty seven yard line. This was their first turn over of the day, it came at just the right time.
Our offense took the field, I looked at the clock noting there were exactly seven minutes fifty five seconds left to play in the game. Their defense would definitely be on the attack, a long sustained drive would be fatal to them. We knew as the clock wound down, they would have to start taking some risks, time was their mortal enemy.
After two quick first downs, we had a third down and five from our own forty seven yard line, five minutes forty six seconds left on the clock. Josh called a short play action pass in the flat, we lined up slowly, milking the clock for every second. The defense shifted twice, then showed an all blitz, the primary receiver covered up at the line of scrimmage. Josh had no choice but to burn a time out, we still had two left. He trotted off the field to meet with Coach Cullen, making sure they were both on the same page.
After a lengthy discussion, Josh trotted back to the huddle, leaned over and took his usual knee. He looked up into our eyes, that confident smile on his face.
"Let's put the women and children to bed, then go look for dinner.", he shouted.
"Overload right, Y Weak Cross, Double Post Right, 89 Wheel Left, Waggle on two.", he shouted.
This was another play that had been put in specifically for this game, it had never been run during the regular season. I guess Coach Cullen figured they would never be looking for something unusual with the game on the line. We basically lined up with two receivers to the right, I was next to the right tackle, one running back and a third wide to the left. Both receivers on the right side would run go patterns, one of them long down the sideline, the second breaking off into a hook route at about twenty yards. The receiver on the left ran a ten yard post pattern across the field, taking his defender to the right as well. During the cadence, I would shift from my spot next to the right tackle over to the left tackle, then resume a blocking stance. What Josh was looking for was to see who rotated to me when I shifted, or if no one moved, who signaled that he had me covered up. I then would stay in and help block counting off three in my head, then releasing into the left flat. If the play was successful, the defense would react strongly right, I might have only one defender on my side.
The ball was snapped, I stepped toward my left tackle helping him pinch the defensive end, then looking outside to see if I had anyone coming on a blitz. The outside linebacker was holding, so I released the end and moved to the left sideline in a long slow arc. The linebacker immediately moved to cover me, breaking hard in a straight line in my direction. As I crossed their forty five, he was close but he took a bad angle. I had him beat by two steps and he had still not opened up to the play. By the time he rotated his upper body back toward Josh, I was four yards ahead of him, the ball was in the air. For a split second, I looked up at the field, and there was no one near me. I quickly locked back on the ball, I knew it was going to be a bit long. I accelerated and reached out, barely able to get the ball on my finger tips. As I concentrated to pull the ball in, I slowed just a bit, giving my defender an opportunity to close the gap. By the time I had secured the ball, I felt him lunge for my legs, one hand slapped the back of my right shoe. I stumbled forward for a couple of steps, but I was able to maintain my balance, taking the ball down the sidelines untouched into the end zone. Every offense player on the team was running toward me in the end zone, it was sheer pandemonium. After a quick celebration, I sprinted to the goal post slamming the ball over, then hanging on the post for several seconds. Before my feet even touched the ground, there were three yellow flags on the ground. I knew I was gonna get some shit from the coaches, but I really didn't care at this point. The referee stepped to the middle of the goal line, flipping on his microphone.
"Personal Foul, Unsportsmanlike Conduct, Excessive Celebration on the offense, number 89. The penalty will be marked off during the kick off.", he finished, turning off his microphone.
I picked up the ball and trotted off the field, I didn't feel a thing. I had just scored my third touchdown of the day, in my first Super Bowl no less. We now had a 38-24 lead, with less than three minutes to play. As expected, Coach Reed was waiting for me.
"Hey Fuckwad, that's twice this fucking year, it's getting old.", he snapped.
"Yeah, but I know you love me Coach.", I told him, everyone around laughing.
We kicked off, they were able to run the ball back to their forty, to which I was reminded of again by Coach Reed. Everyone was off the bench on the sidelines, encouraging our defense to make a stand. We were in a dime package, six defensive backs on the field, making sure we kept the play underneath. They completed a couple of short passes getting the ball down to our thirty eight yard line, just as the two minute warning occurred.
During the lengthy television time out, Coach Reed instructed his defense on just what he was expecting from them. It was not the end of the world if they scored, just make sure it wasn't a quick hitter, run time off the clock. The referee blew the whistle, the players returned to the huddle. After an incomplete pass, a short gain on another pass, they were facing third and six from our thirty four.
The ball was snapped to their quarterback in the shotgun, he set his feet, then stepped up in the pocket throwing to the middle of the field. One of our reserve cornerbacks, Kevin Mitchell read the play brilliantly, stepping in front of the defender, snatching the ball from his hands then racing up field. He simply had to out run the quarterback which he did easily for a sixty six yard touchdown, sealing the game for us. Our bench erupted in chaos, everyone hugging and screaming, we were the World Champions. I sat down on the bench, the emotions of the moment overwhelming me.