<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9911080159
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
991108
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, November 08, 1999
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
NWS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1A
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo GABRIEL B. TAIT  and  JULIAN H. GONZALEZ/Detroit Free
Press
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>


Detroit Lions receiver Johnnie Morton exults in the Silverdome end zone Sunday
after his touchdown catch with 28 seconds left brought the St. Louis Rams to
their knees. The Lions won, 31-27.

Lions guard Tony Semple jumps into the arms of fullback Cory Schlesinger after
the fullback's fourth-quarter touchdown.
</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1999, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
LIONS' PRAYER ANSWERED
IS IT ADDING UP TO A MAGIC SEASON? LIONS DOWN RAMS 31-27, SHARE NFC LEAD
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
WELL, AS Woody Allen once said, that was as much fun as you can have with your
clothes on.

Here were the Lions, all but dead, their fans heading for the exits, figuring
fourth-and-26 with a backup quarterback is not exactly a reason to stay in
your seat. Might as well beat the traffic. Fourth-and-26? In the dictionary,
that's somewhere between  "helpless"  and  "hopeless."

Besides, the Lions were playing as if a truck had hit them, still dazed by a
blow from  the New New Thing, St. Louis quarterback Kurt Warner. He had
marched his Rams down the field like a snowplow through slush, and put them
ahead, 27-24, with less than three minutes to go.

Once the Lions lost their lead, they lost sense of direction. They began going
backward. Sack. Fumble. Sack.

Which is how you get to fourth-and-26.

"Do you even have a play to call for fourth-and-26?"  someone would later ask
quarterback Gus Frerotte.

"Yeah,"  he'd answer.  "A good protection play."

They gave him good protection.  He dropped back, revved up and heaved it. I
mean, HEAVED it. Up, up and away. Cheech and Chong don't get that high.

And down the left sideline, Germane Crowell kept running.

He ran, and he ran. He might have stopped for oxygen. He was nearly 50 yards
from scrimmage when one Rams defender, cornerback Dexter McCleon, fell down
(exhaustion?). Another, safety Billy Jenkins, was out of position. How you get
out of position on fourth-and-26 is a good question, but never mind. Suddenly,
over his shoulder, Crowell saw this object. An angel? A beer cup?

No, a football. Coming down from the lights.

"I was thinking, somebody's gonna hit it, or hit me, or something,"  Crowell
said.

Instead, the ball fell unobstructed into his hands, and the Lions went from
dead to dancing. Fourth-and-26? And they converted a 57-yard pass? And they
went on to score a touchdown and win the game and now share the best record in
the NFC at the halfway point of the Barry Sanders Retirement Year?

What's next? They part the Red Sea?



You gotta love Gus

"What do you think of when someone says fourth-and-26?"  someone asked safety
Mark Carrier, after the Lions claimed their most unlikely win of the season,
31-27, to improve to 6-2.

"To be honest, I already had my mouthpiece in and my helmet on, ready to go
back on defense,"  Carrier said.

Who wouldn't? This was one of those games where the Lions seemed destined to
lament  "a bad break here"  and a  "tough break there."  They had already
suffered so many lows, including: Greg Hill tackled for a safety early in the
game; Charlie Batch leaving with an injured thumb; Robert Bailey taking his
eye off the receiver and surrendering a 75-yard touchdown; the running game
totaling 24 yards; Bryant Westbrook getting burned all day, including a killer
pass-interference penalty in the fourth quarter.

It was adding up to another wacko loss for this franchise, and another weirdo
victory for the Rams, who, to this point in the season, were the only team
more unexpectedly successful than Detroit.

And then came that fourth-and-26, which I hereby nominate for a permanent
place in the Lions' playbook. In fact, from here on in -- at least whenever
Frerotte comes into the game -- maybe they should throw the playbook out
altogether.

You gotta love Frerotte, the backup QB. Half the time he looks brilliant, and
half the time he looks like he's wearing a blindfold. He goes down. Then he
gets up. Then he throws a miracle. Then he jumps onto the bench and raises his
fists to the crowd.

"What were you thinking on that fourth-and-26?"  Frerotte was asked.

"I was just hoping I didn't throw it out of bounds."

"And what were you thinking when you threw that 12-yard touchdown to Johnnie
Morton in the end zone to win it?"

"That? That was basically a throwaway."

See what I mean? A throwaway? An  "I hope it doesn't go out of bounds" ?

On such things can a season turn.



Now these things go Lions' way

And make no mistake. This game was a season-turner. Not a turnaround --
because the Lions already were pointed in the right direction. But a turner
just the same, because games like this make the players believe they are
somehow meant to win. The true value of this finish will be felt in other
games that come down to the wire, when previous Detroit teams would figure
forget it, we're gonna lose.

"Last year,"  Carrier said,  "that fourth-and-26 would have happened to us.
This year, we're doing it to other people."

And not just any people: the Rams, the Packers, the Vikings.

Now, make no mistake. The Lions would not have been in this game without
Batch's early efforts, or Jason Hanson's reliable foot, or the general
excellence of the defense, which held Marshall Faulk to just 15 yards rushing,
and sacked Warner four times.

True, the Lions made errors. But they overcame them. True, there were ugly
penalties. But some went the Lions' way. True, it was, as coach Bobby Ross
said,  "not pretty."  But the games around here used to be not pretty in the
beginning, middle and the end.

Now, the end part has changed. This whole team has changed. The attitude. The
expectations. Certainly the results.

On my way to the locker room, I passed a group of celebrating fans coming down
the hallway. They were hanging on each others' shoulders, laughing,
high-fiving. They passed a concession stand and yelled  "LIONS! LIONS!"  And
the concession workers yelled back,  "LIONS! WHOOO!"

When was the last time we had that kind of spirit around here?

Maybe the last time Detroit looked between  "helpless"  and  "hopeless"  and
found  "hocus-pocus."

"What do you think of when someone says fourth-and-26?"  someone asked safety
Ron Rice.

He grinned.

"Prayer."

Answered.

Are Sundays getting fun around here, or am I nuts?

MITCH ALBOM can be reached at 313-223-4581 or albom@freepress.com. Listen to
Mitch's radio show,  "Albom in the Afternoon,"  3-6 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM
(760).
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<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
SPT;LIONS;FOOTBALL;GAME;COLUMN
</KEYWORDS>
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