<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8702130602
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
870914
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, September 14, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
LIONS' FIRST 30 MINUTES  WAS ONLY THE HALF OF IT
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
MINNEAPOLIS -- Well, for an hour or so, this was a pretty fun Lions
football season. Chuck Long was hitting his passes and James Jones was banging
out yardage and the Vikings' Anthony Carter --  who, to Detroit fans, has
always been the "one that got away" -- was suddenly, surprisingly, the one
giving something back: the football. He bumbled two first-half passes that
wound up as two Lions'  interceptions.

  Thanks a lot, Anthony.

  Hey, this was enjoyable. This was neat. Had the roof fallen in, or the
league gone on strike, the Lions would have had a 16-10 victory and an
undefeated  season. "Unfortunately," said cornerback Duane Galloway, who got
one of those  interceptions, "you have to play a second half."
  Oh yeah.
  This is what happened in the second half: same old stop.  A third-and-18
for the Vikings. Hopeless situation, right? Wrong. The Lions blitzed, but not
strongly enough, and Carter and Galloway were left alone man-on-man down the
sidelines.
  Carter won. A  73-yard touchdown.
  Thanks a lot, Anthony.
  "That was the play," Lions coach Darryl Rogers would sigh. The beginning of
a quick death. Does this sound familiar? Sixty seconds later, Long threw  an
interception that was returned to the Detroit 17. Fifty-one seconds later, the
Vikings scored a touchdown to go ahead.
  Five seconds later, the fans in Detroit switched back to the Tigers' game.
 Rogers  doesn't have answers
  "The momentum seemed to change in the second half," said Rogers after this
season opening defeat, a game lost much the way 11 games were lost last
season, with suspect defense  and mediocre offense. "We played well for 2 1/2
periods, but we weren't able to sustain it."
  "Why does that happen?" he was asked. "Why a momentum shift? Why a
drop-off?"
  "If I knew that," he  snapped, "I wouldn't be a football coach. I'd be a
GM."
  Yes. Well. I am not sure what that sentence means. I think it means he's
ticked off. And I can understand that. After all, the Lions had plenty  of
opportunities in the first half; they avoided the end zone as if they'd break
out in hives. Their first three scoring drives ended on or within the Vikings'
10- yard line: Field goal, field goal, field  goal.  "We missed chances," Long
admitted.
  Yes. And the Vikings are too good to keep giving you those. When they went
into the halftime locker room, splashed cold water on their faces, and said,
"Look! In the mirror! Aren't we the Explosive Vikings, the only team given a
chance at knocking off Chicago in the Central Division?" -- well, it was a
different game from then on. It was out with the  new and in with the old.
  Vikings 34, Lions 19.
  So, I guess that kills the perfect season, huh?
Galloway a sad symbol
  A word here about Chuck Long.
  Good.
  I liked his numbers Sunday  (24-for-38, 195 yards). I liked his poise. I
liked  the way he found receivers and hit them in the hands (if only they'd
bother to hang on).
  I didn't like that interception. And neither did he. "If  I could have one
play back it would be that one," he said afterwards, sitting in a sweat-soaked
gray T-shirt. "Carter had just scored. We had thrid-and-two, I was trying too
hard to make something happen.  . . . 
  He shook his head. He doesn't want this season to fall into last season's
pattern. The trick will be in stopping it. Across the room sat Galloway, the
cornerback, small (5-feet-8), sad- eyed,  a symbolic figure in this losing
affair. Galloway had two interceptions in that frolicking first half. Then
Carter beat him for the touchdown. Two minutes later, he was called for pass
interference,  which led to the Vikings' go-ahead score. Ooh. That can't be
fun. Two minutes? Two touchdowns?
  "Have you ever had two lousier minutes in football?" he was asked.
  "No," he said. "I let our momentum  shift."
  Well, no, the whole team did that. And unfortunately, it is nothing new.
Lions fans have seen the offense sputter. They have seen the defense sag. "We
sat our our a--," said linebacker Jimmy  Williams. They've seen that, too.
This team has some talent; that was evident Sunday. But not enough to pass up
scoring opportunities, or to allow seven of 10 third down conversions, to drop
passes,  or to get tagged with poorly timed penalties.
  You have to play both halves. Galloway was right about that. Hopefully, by
next week, that lesson will be memorized. In the solemn locker room
afterwards,  rookie running back Karl Bernard sat hunched in his locker,
shaking his head, the weight of his first pro loss hitting harder than it did
some veterans. He rolled his eyes at halfback Garry James, and  exhaled a
frustrated breath.
  "Welcome to the big leagues," James said.
  "Damn," he answered.
  Tell us about it, Karl.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN;DLIONS;FOOTBALL;Lions
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
