<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8602130687
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
860929
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, September 29, 1986
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL CHASER
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>
SEE ALSO STATE EDITION 1F
</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
BRENNAN'S THE PERFECT QB IN DISGUISE -- NATURALLY
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
CLEVELAND -- He was the perfect quarterback. He was cool, he was unfazed.
He completed every pass he threw. Naturally. When the game was over, his
uniform was still sparkling clean, and he took it  off and strolled in for a
shower as if it were just another day.

  Naturally.

  "How many of those have you thrown in your career?" someone asked Brian
Brennan, after his big fourth-quarter strike  to Herman Fontenot, the longest
pass of this Lions-Browns game.
  "Three," he said, wrapping a towel around himself. "I'm three-for-three. I
am 1,000 percent. Two for touchdowns."
  Three-for-three.  One thousand percent. Two for touchdowns. The perfect
quarterback. He pulled on his jeans and ran a hand through his wet curly hair
and -- presto! -- it was neatly in place.
  Naturally.
  Was he  nervous? someone asked. No, he said. Was he worried, someone asked?
Of course not, he said.  He is the man for the job, ready to throw with the
game on the line. The perfect quarterback.
  The wide  receiver.
  "Hey, nice passing, man," yelled a teammate.
  "Thanks," he said.
  The wide receiver?
Best on the field  Well, why not? This was the game for it. Wasn't it?  It
was a Sunday in  September that was hotter than July. It was a punter named
Mike Black who punted like Mike Douglas. It was Lions playing like lambs. It
was a touted Cleveland rushing attack that was in no rush at all.
  So it's no surprise that, for one play anyhow, Brian Brennan, wide receiver,
was the best quarterback on the field.  Eric Hipple was racking up countless
five-yard completions, but missing when he went  for the big gainer.
Cleveland's Bernie Kosar was throwing screen passes or incompletions, but
nothing of any consequence.
  Could they go long? No, they could not. Could they throw and not get
clobbered?  No, they could not. But in the final quarter, with the game close,
Brennan -- who gets paid to catch the ball, remember -- took a pitch from
Kosar at midfield and heaved a perfect spiral  that rose like  destiny and
delivered itself right into Fontenot's hands for a 35-yard completion. Two
plays later the Browns scored a touchdown.  One pass, one completion. The
perfect quarterback. The wide receiver.
  "What did Kosar, the real quarterback, say to you afterward?" someone
asked.
  "He said, 'Nice pass,' " Brennan replied.
  Naturally.
  Do you remember Brian Brennan? He was once a standout quarterback  at
Birmingham Brother Rice High.  He went to Boston College hoping to play that
same position, but BC  brought in another guy named Doug Flutie and that was
that.
 So Brennan went undercover, became  the Clark Kent of the backfield, a
mild-mannered receiver with a big red QB across his chest. When the moment is
ripe, he tears away his tear-away jersey and reveals himself. He did it two
years ago.  He did it last year. He did it Sunday. Three-for-three. A thousand
percent. Two touchdowns.
  Naturally.
  "Aren't you worried one day, you'll go out there and throw one incomplete?"
he was asked.
  "Incomplete?" he said, grinning. "Me? No way. I'm always on the money."
The one that got away  Another teammate walked by in the locker room. "Nice
pickup, man," he said.
  "Thanks," said Brennan.
  Oh yes, the pickup. In the second period, the Browns ran Kevin Mack on a
pitchout, and he fumbled on the Detroit goal line.  But there was another
Brown just waiting there, like the perfect defender,  and when the ball popped
free in the end zone, he pounced on it and scored a touchdown.
  Brian Brennan. Naturally.
  "I was supposed to be blocking on that play," he said. "But I missed my
block.  I just happened to be down there when the ball popped out and I jumped
on it."  He grinned. "I was lucky."
  So let's get this straight. He is a wide receiver, who caught two balls all
day, neither  of them important. But when the game ended, the scoreboard read
24-21, Browns, and Brennan had scored six of those points, and was the key to
six more. A guy who grew up in Michigan, probably rooting  for the Lions.
  Is that right? Yes, that's right. The perfect quarterback strikes again.
  "So you've never messed up," someone observed. "Never had a pass that
missed the mark since you left high  school?"
  "Well, once," he said, "back in college. We had a play where Doug Flutie
threw me the ball and he went out and I threw it back to him. We tried it
against Pittsburgh one year. I remember that one was an incomplete."
  He paused. "Actually, Doug dropped it."
  Naturally.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
