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<UID>
8902150770
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
891113
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, November 13, 1989
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1989, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
FOR A CHANGE, LET'S  LAUGH WITH THE LIONS
</HEADLINE>
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<BODY>
The locker room was noisy and they were slapping Wayne Fontes on the back
and someone said to him: "Hey, Wayne. The governor's on the phone."

  Fontes looked up. Really?  The governor? He jogged  to the office and
someone handed him the receiver and whispered in his ear, "I think he's gonna
commute your sentence."

  Fontes smirked.
  "Hello, governor! How are you!" 
  Something about  congratulations.
  "Thank you, sir . . . uh-huh . . . "
  Something about the offense.
  "Improving, governor . . . that's right . . ."
  How long has it been since a Lions win at the Silverdome? This long. Gov.
James Blanchard was on the phone. And this long: Chris Spielman was actually
smiling in the postgame press conference. And this long: Toby Caston, the
backup linebacker, who was exulting  the crowd all afternoon, waving fists,
scooping imaginary noise, suddenly revealed the newest trend -- falling
backward, hands at his side, like a dead man, until his head hits the turf.
  "I call  it the Nestea Plunge," Caston said, grinning, after the Lions
beat Green Bay, 31-22, their first home win since last December. "You know,
like that commercial? The ultimate relief?"
  How long? This  long. 
  The Nestea Plunge.
A win is a win is a win  And good. Maybe they should all try it. Then
again, it might look funny in the injury list next week: "LB, T. Caston,
questionable (plunge)."  But hey. What a pleasant feeling. How nice to rise
Monday morning and glance at the newspapers and not want to throw up. No,
Sunday wasn't the Super Bowl. And no, it doesn't make the Lions a .500 club.
It doesn't even move them out of the Central Division cellar.
  But it is a victory, at home, over a team with a winning record, and even
though the Packers have accounted for three of the four wins  since Fontes
took over as head coach last year, well, as the exterminator says while
squirting the termites, better them than us.
  "Hey, it feels good to win, period," said nose tackle Jerry Ball,  part of
an inspired defense that -- for half the game, anyhow -- actually pressured
the quarterback. "Here, the road, wherever. If we win, I don't care if we're
playing in Peking."
  Which is where  they might be now had they blown this one. And that seemed
possible in the second half. The first 30 minutes were as close to brilliant
as you can get in silver and blue. The Lions' offense was clicking,
quarterback Rodney Peete was zipping the ball, twice for touchdowns. The
defense was a breathing, ugly force, wrapping the quarterback and smelling the
football. Cornerback Jerry Holmes, who had such  a bad game against the Bears
two months ago he threatened to retire, Sunday forced a fumble and took an
interception 23 yards for a touchdown. The Lions led by 21 at halftime. 
  They were so good,  they silenced half the crowd, which, unfortunately,
came to root for the Packers.
  And then came Act II. The Packers adjusted. They marched. They scored.
They scored again. Peete grew younger before  our eyes. He fumbled. He threw
an interception. A 24-3 lead was suddenly 24-20. But instead  of collapsing
like a tent, the Lions fought back. They forced a fumble in the fourth
quarter. And then Barry  Sanders took over. Six straight plays -- one an
acrobatic, one-handed catch that suggested he was on loan from the Moscow
circus -- and, ta-da! Touchdown. Victory.
  Clip this newspaper, folks.
  The Lions may have just grown up.
  "This is the best emotion since I've been around this team," said an
elated Mel Gray, who returned the opening kickoff 57 yards to set the winning
mood. "We were happy on the sidelines."
  Happy? Imagine that.
Reason to believe?  Now, OK. If this were a fluke win, or just a really
off-day by the opposition, there would be no reason to get excited.  Certainly
no reason to Nestea Plunge. But the fact is, for the first half, the Lions
looked like -- please Lord, forgive me for what I am about to say --  a
winning team. Things were clicking. Kick returners  were breaking tackles.
Receivers were catching passes. Defensive linemen were chewing on the kneecaps
of the opposing quarterback. Goodness. You could get encouraged by what you
saw those first 30 minutes.  You could believe that, one day, a winning record
might result.
  And that really is something new. Under previous coach Darryl Rogers, even
when the Lions won, they did not persuade. You never felt  they'd get past
.500. There was little growth potential, and no stars. Now there are blips on
the screen. Sanders. Peete. Spielman. Gray. Jim Arnold. They're not yet ready
for the 49ers. But hey.  That's  why the governor was on the phone.  Speaking
of which . . . 
  "Thank you, governor. Uh-huh. Bye."
  "What did he say?" the other coaches asked.
  Fontes grinned. "He wanted to know who the  bleep was calling defensive
plays in the second half."
  And then he cracked up.  How long has it been? This long: Laughter in the
Silverdome. One victory. No big deal. But maybe, just maybe -- and  I say this
knowing they could lose by 50 points next week -- maybe, it's the start of
something good.
  Then again, they might win the next six games. In which case, I promise to
do the Nestea Plunge  in front of the entire Silverdome.
  I call it fainting.
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