9402130449
DETROIT FREE PRESS
941205
Monday, December 05, 1994
METRO FINAL
1C
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1994, Detroit Free Press
SANDERS GIVES LIONS A VISION OF GREATNESS
The eyes, they say, are the windows to the soul. They are also rather
important if you want to know where you're going. So when Barry Sanders took a
finger in the eye in the third quarter, and he stopped running in the middle
of the play and pushed his hand through the small opening in his helmet,
reaching for his cornea as instinctively as a child, helpless for a moment,
then down on his knees, well, the nearly sold- out Silverdome seemed to
explode in angered activity, like a parent who had just seen the bully smack
their kid.
The fans showered the Packers with thunderous boos. Lions players
screamed at the referees for a penalty. Wayne Fontes sprinted across the field
-- a sideline-to-sideline dash -- in frantic concern that his star might be
wounded.
"I run out for all my guys," Fontes would later admit, "but I was going a
little faster than usual on that one."
And why not? You can write the Lions' story any way you choose, from side
to side, from top to bottom, backwards, forwards, inside-out, it doesn't
matter, it will all come down to this: No. 20. Barry Sanders. It begins and
ends with him.
And so, when Sanders was temporarily blinded, it became a focal moment of
a game that already had plenty of in-your-face highlights and lowlights. It
is always like this when the Lions play the Packers in December with something
on the line. It goes back to the outdoor games, in the mud and snow, the days
that earned this part of the football map the nickname "black and blue
division."
It was black and blue Sunday. So much so that, late in the game, you saw a
normally reserved defensive lineman, Robert Porcher, charge Packers
quarterback Brett Favre and begin screaming, "Don't you run my side! Don't you
think of running my side! You will not get anything on my side!"
His outburst would bring a penalty flag, and, because this was late in the
fourth quarter, and the Pack was driving for a winning score, well, it was not
what you call a smart play.
But it was an emotional one, from the heart, borne in the drama of the
fan noise that was 100 airplane engines all afternoon.
The noise that began with Barry.
He has no one to top but himself
He broke a record Sunday. Best rushing season ever for a Lion. Sanders
had 188 yards Sunday. He has 1,594 for the season. He has done this with three
games still to go.
The record he broke was his own.
That is where Sanders is now: surpassing his own excellence. Before the
eye poke, he had already led the Lions back into the game, with three runs in
the second quarter that left you with your mouth hanging open -- not to
mention what it did to the Packers who tried to tackle him.
A first down, up the middle for 21 yards. A second down, off left tackle
for 34 yards. Another second down, around the end, past everybody, for a
touchdown.
And after the eye poke? He got even better. The Lions were trailing the
Pack by four points. The whole season was in danger. Playoffs on the ropes.
Dave Krieg gave Barry the ball the way he gives it to him so many times, with
no promises, no assurances, just a handoff and a look. Sanders did the rest.
He went straight ahead, juked, cut left and began a string of missed
tackles and bewildered faces that was straight out of a Keystone Kops movie.
Sean Jones, Green Bay's defensive end, missed him. George Teague, the
safety, let him slip. LeRoy Butler, the other safety, couldn't stop him.
Barry was off to the races, down the sidelines, and by the time he was knocked
out of bounds, 63 yards later, the Lions' season was back to positive.
Sanders? He took a breath, came back one play later, pushed through for
eight more yards.
Came back one play later, picked up four more.
Finally, with the ball on the Green Bay 1, his work complete, he jogged
off.
Didn't even rub his eye.
Barry was elusive till the end
"I don't want to get religious here," said Fontes, after the Lions
converted Sanders' efforts to the winning touchdown, 34-31, a game that kept
them alive for the playoffs. "But when the Creator said, 'You're gonna be
Barry Sanders,' He was saying from now on, all running backs will look at this
guy and see what they want to be."
And here's the most amazing part. When the game was done, the Lions locker
room was awash in happiness. The offensive linemen were celebrating Scott
Conover's deception touchdown pass -- "Retire his jersey!" Lomas Brown yelled
-- and the defense was feeling good about its efforts in the final seconds.
Fontes was hugging people. Dave Krieg was smiling. All over the room, people
were looking forward to the next game, seeing a light in this long tunnel of a
season, they felt like you want to feel after a long, hard-fought afternoon of
football. They felt like winners.
And the man most responsible for that slipped on his clothes in the back
room and quietly made his way out the door. No news conferences necessary. No
glory needed. Another day, another handful of miracles.
He left without anyone noticing, leaving behind a roomful of teammates who
can, thanks mostly to him, see where they're going.
DLIONS; FOOTBALL; GAME; GREENBAY PACKERS; BARRY SANDERS; ANALYSIS;VICTORY; WAYNE FONTES; COLUMN;Lions