9701030429
DETROIT FREE PRESS
970127
Monday, January 27, 1997
METRO FINAL CHASER
1D
MITCH ALBOM Free Press Sports Writer
SIDEBAR ATTACHED
Copyright (c) 1997, Detroit Free Press
DESMOND RETURNS THE GLORY TO GREEN BAY
NEW ORLEANS -- The game was six points, momentum had been tossed back and
forth like a hand grenade, and here came the kickoff, out of the lights and
into the waiting hands of Desmond Howard, who a few months ago was looking
for a job and now was looking for a piece of history. There were 99 yards of
field in front of him. Howard took off sprinting as if someone had shot a
starter's pistol. He went straight into the protective wedge of his Green Bay
blockers, disappeared for a moment in all those bigger bodies, and by the time
he emerged, a few blazing seconds later, only one Patriot had touched him,
and that guy was flat on the turf. All that stood between Howard, his
teammates and the ultimate glory for the city that adores them was green,
green, green.
Pack it in.
Cheese for everybody.
"Did you ever imagine this?" someone asked Howard after the game was over,
the Packers had won and Howard had another trophy to go with his Heisman, this
time the Super Bowl most valuable player.
"No, I never imagined anything like this," Howard said, laughing. "The
furthest my dreams ever went was to be a professional football player."
He was much more than that on Sunday night. He was the decisive weapon in
a Super Bowl war that could only be decided with a very big boom. No matter
how many comebacks the New England Patriots tried to mount in this most
offensive of championships, Green Bay had an answer. Brett Favre's throwing
the longest touchdown pass in Super Bowl history. Mike Prior's leaping to pick
off a Drew Bledsoe pass deep in Green Bay territory. It was like those
Whack-A-Mole games in the arcades. Whenever New England popped up, the
Packers brought the hammer down. Over here. Whack! Over there. Whack!
And then, finally, the killer, Howard's third-quarter miracle, which began
with a sprint at the 1, ended with a moon walk in the end zone and goes into
the books as the longest kick return in Super Bowl history, 99 yards. And
Desmond can tell you every step.
Cheese for everybody.
Phone call for Desmond
"I always had confidence in myself," said Howard, the former Michigan
star, in the raucous locker room after the game. "No matter what happened to
me, all the trials and tribulations, I never gave up on myself."
Which is more than you can say for the Washington Redskins and the
Jacksonville Jaguars, both of whom had Howard on their rosters and let him
go. He was looking for a job when he joined Green Bay, and when he was injured
in training camp, he was almost cut.
"That was the lowest point," he said, "knowing what I could do and thinking
I might not get a chance to show it.
"But there's an old expression: The cream always rises to the top."
And every time Howard touched the ball, he seemed intent not only on rising
but on turning himself into a human exclamation point. He returned New
England's first punt 32 yards, giving the Packers good field position on their
first possession. And he came up yelling and pointing and nearly brawling
with several Patriots players on their sideline.
He handled six punts, four kickoffs and a mouthful of trash talk. By the
time the game was over, he had 244 yards -- 90 on punt returns, 154 on kick
returns -- and the touchdown that shut the door. He became the first special
teams player chosen as MVP.
And then the president called.
"Desmond has to take a call from the White House," a spokesman said.
"He'll be right back."
Ah, well. The story speaks for itself. In many ways, Howard is a perfect
fit for this Super Bowl, a comeback story. Hadn't it been 30 years since
Green Bay won the first Super Bowl, under Vince Lombardi, the man for whom the
winner's trophy is now named? The game has changed greatly since those days,
from a $12 ticket to a $275 ticket, from an Up With People halftime to a
$1.2-million show with James Brown popping up on a hydraulic lift.
But a few things remain consistent. The Packers play football. Green Bay
loves the Packers. And the fans there consider a championship their destiny.
Destiny came home Sunday night.
Cheese for everybody.
"First of all, I want to thank the fans of Green Bay," said coach Mike
Holmgren.
"I want to first thank the fans of Green Bay," said Favre.
"This is for all the people in Green Bay," said Sean Jones.
One after another, they paid credit to the fans. Tell me that isn't great
in this age of me-me-me sports. I don't recall the Dallas Cowboys' making
their fans first on the thank-you list. I don't remember the San Francisco
49ers' making sure their fans were mentioned high in the story.
Then again, I guess, none of those teams is owned by the fans. The Packers
are. That's right. The residents of Green Bay own the team, butchers, doctors,
storekeepers, you name it. They own stock in a franchise that does not
distribute profits or dividends but instead puts everything back into the
team. What a contrast this is to spotlight-hungry millionaires like Dallas'
Jerry Jones, or New England's Bob Kraft, whose feud with Bill Parcells
almost overshadowed the Patriots last week.
Wherever you go these days, sports are about money, money, big stadiums,
new leases. And here is a team that is owned by the fans, that loves its
archaic frozen tundra stadium, and never talks about selling, moving, or
increasing the bottom line.
Did you know that if the Packers are ever sold, all the profits will go to
an American Legion post in Green Bay?
Cheese for everybody.
A wild first half
OK. For those of you who are not Packers fans, but simply fans of the
game, here's the good news: This Super Bowl was not over by halftime. It
actually featured two lead changes. It actually had you on the edge of your
seat as late as third quarter. And if there were ever a first half with more
highlight footage, I'd like to see it.
The Packers' second play from scrimmage was a 54-yard touchdown bomb that
floated from Favre into the open hands of Andre Rison. "That was all Brett,"
Holmgren admitted. "He audibled the play I called when he saw the rush."
The Packers' second touchdown was an 81-yard footrace between Antonio
Freeman and the Patriots' Lawyer Milloy.
Drew Bledsoe threw 29 passes in the first half, including a 44-yard bomb.
The Pack blew a 10-point lead, fell behind by four, then zoomed ahead to a
27-14 lead.
By the time halftime finally fell, there had been 44 passes, 400 passing
yards, five touchdowns, two field goals, two interceptions, and at least
45,000 trips to the bathroom by fans who never expected 30 minutes of football
to take this long to play.
And then came the Blues Brothers.
New chapter in Green Bay
Which might be an appropriate cue to pay homage to the Patriots. No, they
didn't win. But they accounted for themselves nicely, and if not for
Bledsoe's interceptions, and the kickoff return by Howard, they might have
pulled an unlikely upset. Don't forget that losing by 14 points in the Super
Bowl puts you in the "close game" category.
"I want to say it's been an honor playing for Bill Parcells and he taught
me a lot," said Bledsoe. "He's been a great coach for us."
"Does that mean he's not coming back?" someone asked.
"I didn't say that," Bledsoe said.
Wait. Let's save that whole affair for some other day. This moment belongs
to the Packers, a team that built itself carefully and steadily, with a good
coach, a good GM, the right draft picks, free agents like Reggie White, trade
acquisitions like Eugene Robinson, and an eye for castoffs such as Howard and
Rison. These Packers paid their dues, they did it the right way, and it was
most definitely their turn.
It might also have been their destiny. And here's why I say that:
At 1 on Super Bowl morning, I was leaving a restaurant in the Garden
District when a limousine pulled up. The door opened, but no one got out. Then
I saw a leg trying to swing to the street. First try, no go. Second try, no
go. Finally, on the third attempt, the wobbly foot met the pavement, then
came the next, and finally, stepping out of the limo and stretching his long
frame into the night was an old but legendary Green Bay figure.
Max McGee.
Wasn't it 30 years ago that McGee, a reserve tight end, went out partying
the night before the very first Super Bowl, never figuring to play -- then
wound up the hero of the game, hangover and all? And here he was, out and
about again, the night before the big game? Max McGee?
"I'm just a link in a very, very strong chain," Desmond Howard said in the
locker room when this was all over. Even he might not know how far back that
chain really goes, back to Eau Claire, and Alice and Milwaukee and the frozen
tundra and Hornung and Starr and Max McGee, who got out of that limo and
smiled as if he'd never left the stage and he knew what was going to happen.
Green Bay wins.
Cheese for everybody.
Howard's End
Desmond Howard is the first special teams player to be the Super Bowl
most valuable player, amassing 244 return yards. That tied the game record set
in 1995 by San Diego's Andre Coleman, all on kickoffs. The Desmond difference:
* He scored on a 99-yard kickoff return that gave Green Bay a 35-21 lead in
the third quarter. It was the longest return in Super Bowl history, breaking
the 98-yard kickoff-return scores by Miami's Fulton Walker in 1983 and San
Diego's Coleman. Howard gained 154 yards on four returns.
* By halftime, Howard had broken the Super Bowl record for punt-return yardage
with 75. He finished with 90 yards on six returns. San Francisco's John Taylor
set the previous record with 56 yards in 1989. Howard's 32-yard return
preceded the game's first touchdown, and his 34-yarder set up a field goal for
a 20-14 lead.
* REMEMBER? Howard returned punts 71 (for a touchdown) and 46 yards (setting
up the second TD) in the Packers' 35-14 playoff win over the 49ers.
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
FOOTBALL; GAME; PACKERS; PATRIOTS; SUPER BOWL; DESMOND HOWARD