<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9102070559
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
911007
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, October 07, 1991
</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) 1991, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
BELIEVE IT OR NOT: 21 POINTS IN FINAL 7 MINUTES
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
The fans were screaming and the players were hugging and the scoreboard
lights were changing for the third time in seven minutes, touchdown, Detroit,
touchdown, Detroit, touchdown, Detroit, and,  good Lord, this was
unbelievable. Big Jerry Ball did a forward flip, all 320 pounds of him. Rodney
Peete tried to slap every hand in the Silverdome. Barry Sanders, who had just
squirted past one of the  best defenders in football for that final score, was
a grinning birthday cake now; all his teammates wanted a piece. Horns blared.
The building shook with noise. If they never do another thing this year,  the
Lions will have this moment.

  You know what? 

  It might be enough.
  "I have seen a lot of football in my life," gushed coach Wayne Fontes,
after the best finish around here since, man, who knows when? -- a thrilling
24-20 comeback victory to claim sole possession of first place in the NFC
Central, "but I'll tell you, I have never been associated with anything like
that fourth quarter.  When they ask me one day what do you remember about
football, I'll remember this."
  He'd have a hard time forgetting. Here was the moment when the Lions
officially crawled out of the lime pit that  had nearly fossilized them as
losers, and became -- not just in their minds but all those jaded minds in
this weary city -- winners. Trailing 20-3. Seven minutes left. Fans heading
for the exits. Maybe  San Francisco wins games like this. Maybe the Giants.
The Lions?
  They do now. It was as if a little voice had crawled inside their ears and
said, "Do you really want to lose again? Do you really  want to go back to
being what you've been all these years?" They were 4-1 coming into this game,
but few people believed they had turned the corner. "Easy opponents," the
critics said. "They'll blow  it against the Vikings, just watch."
  Now, down by 17 points, with three quarters behind them as flat as last
week's soda, Detroit was on the verge of proving the critics right.
  And then, something  happened. . . . 
  What's that kissing game you play as a teenager? Seven minutes in heaven?
Here, at the Silverdome, was the Detroit rendition. The firstkiss was a
stunner, Peete found Robert Clark  running a straight post route after the
Vikings somehow went for a fake, a terrible play on their part. Clark sucked
in the pass and dashed 68 yards untouched for the score. Vikings 20, Lions 10.
Out  in the parking lot, several departing fans mumbled, "What was that?"
  "We're going for the win!" Fontes yelled at his staff as the Lions prepared
to kick. "Squib it!"
  Squib it? This was the second  kiss. The Vikings trotted out expecting a
deep boot, and were stunned when the Lions ran to one side. Too late to
change, Minnesota's big blockers tried to handle the bouncing ball. Oops.
Derek Tennell, the Detroit tight end who has caught only two passes all year,
saw the pigskin free on the turf. "I fell on it and I said, 'It's mine, you
can't take it, I don't care how many of you jump on me!' " he  laughed
afterward.
  Peete was watching when Tennell came up waving that ball on the Lions' 43,
the crowd going nuts. Suddenly, the quarterback felt a shiver, something he
hadn't felt since college,  when he was leading Southern Cal to the Rose Bowl,
call it Popeye's spinach, or Zorro's sword. "It's a feeling like you can't do
anything wrong," Peete said,  "like you're supposed to win."
  Down  the sideline, Sanders felt it, too. The two men trotted onto the
field, and from that moment on, they were unstoppable, accounting for most of
the magic in the last two kisses. The first was Peete's  beautiful 16-yard
touchdown pass to the outstretched arms of Willie Green, which pulled the
Lions within three points. And then -- after an inspiring series by the
defense, which stuffed the Vikings  like a boneless chicken breast -- the coup
de grace, the end of the rainbow, Sanders' brilliant run to win the game.
  Goodness. Has there ever been a guy like this, who goes through defenses
like  a school kid racing through the forest, his shirttail flying, his legs
churning, skirting tacklers as if they were heavy trees rooted to the earth?
Sanders beat all five Vikings trying to stop him on  that last draw play,
going 15 yards of highlight film and ducking under the intimidating Joey
Browner to cross the stripe and hang six on the scoreboard. All told, he
collected 70 rushing yards in those final seven minutes, 15 more on
receptions, six first downs and a score. Hey. That's a day's work for most
backs. Everyone knew Sanders was a gleaming talent. They now learn something
more important:  He is a winner, too.
  "Were you excited?" someone asked the normally unexpressive Sanders.
  "Oh, yeah, I was very excited," he said. "I, uh, may not have shown it like
everyone else, but I was."
  "He was excited," Peete confirmed. "I actually saw him smile in the
huddle."
At long last, a real team 
  Smile? How could you help it? This was the day the Lions truly grew up,
shed their old  skin. On the NBC broadcast later in the day, Bill Parcells,
who coached last year's Super Bowl champion Giants, said a victory like this
"is good for five or six weeks, because the Lions will never believe  they can
lose a game now, after what they did."
  Exactly. The way the overtime loss to Washington torpedoed last season, so
could Sunday's victory galvanize this one. The Lions think like winners  now.
And if that isn't the biggest difference in this franchise, then this
newspaper is printed on goat skin. "It's never ever  been like this before,"
said tackle Lomas Brown, who has endured plenty  of dismal years. "In the
past, losing in the fourth quarter, we would have folded -- heck, we would
have folded in the third quarter! This is the best moment I've ever had in pro
football, better than the Pro Bowl, better than anything!"
  Someone asked Ball: "Is this your best moment in the pros, too?"
  "The pros? S---," he snapped. "This is the best in the pros, college, high
school, all  20 years I been playing football."
  That feeling coursed through the locker room like blood through a vein.
Lost in the euphoria was the fact that Detroit has won five games in a row --
only Buffalo  and Washington can make that claim -- and is solo atop the NFC
Central, a game ahead of the Bears, three games up on the Vikings, four up on
Green Bay and Tampa Bay. Then again, maybe it's not lost. Maybe it's put in
perspective. You crawl before you walk. You walk before you run. Streaks are
nice, and winning the division would be gravy, but the meat of this season was
-- and is -- to wash off  the old dirt, lose that losing image.
  Consider it done.
  Seven minutes in heaven.
  "You know," said Peete, sitting alone by his locker after most of the room
had cleared out, "this was one  of those games that you think about when
you're driving at night, by yourself. You imagine your team is down by three
touchdowns late in the fourth quarter, and they rally and come back to win.
It's  a dream. The kind of game you always look forward to."
  "And now?" he was asked.
  "And now," he said, grinning, "I'll be able to look back instead of
forward."
  Hang onto your hats, folks.
  We just got ourselves a football team.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
DLIONS; COLUMN;Lions
</KEYWORDS>
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