The fog lifted

TALES FROM THE TAILGATE
Pats 28, Steelers 3 (1/5/'97): Known as "The Fog Game." This was the first home playoff game during Part II of being a season-ticket holder and the first home playoff game with Bill Parcells as coach. The Pats had never won a home playoff game. Never. The franchise was created in 1960 as the Boston Patriots and 37 years later Pats fans had still not witnessed a home playoff win. There were some great playoff victories up to that point (at NY Jets, at Oakland, and at Miami in three consecutive, amazing weeks in '86 for instance), but none at home. For me, Mark, Shep, Toph, Bergs, and Billy the whole week leading up to the game was like Christmas Eve.

The Pats were far from a sure thing to make the playoffs that year so having a home playoff game was almost a shock. And to make it better, or worse, the Pats were playing the Steelers. The Steelers had lots of home playoff victories. And road playoff victories. And Super Bowl victories. One of the all-time great franchises against one of the all-time saddest. Even better was the fact that the Jaguars had gone into No. 1 seed Denver the day before and done what very few teams had done. Beat the Broncos in the playoffs in Denver. As I sat on my couch watching the Broncos lose, Mark called. "If we win this game tomorrow we would host the AFC Championship game. The AFC Championship game!"

I woke up early that morning, or maybe I never got to sleep. I don't remember. The car was packed the night before and we all met up at the Bickford's... One of the big differences between tailgating now and then is cell phones. Now you can all get to the lot at different times and just call or text each other to meet up. Then you had to gather at a parking lot somewhere outside the stadium lots. If you went in separately you might never find each other... The morning had started under a heavy blanket of fog and by the time we pulled into the lot the old stadium, which sat up on the top of a hill, was barely visible. It looked like a giant freighter on the ocean horizon on a foggy morning. It was a cool sight.

But it was a problem because with Drew Bledsoe having a break-out year the Pats were a passing offense. It went against Parcell's every instinct but that's what they were. Curtis Martin was a hell of a back. Hall of Fame level. But Bledsoe and the Pats were a passing team when it counted. But we weren't worried about that at the moment. We tailgated in the drizzle and fog. Security was strict about throwing footballs in the lot before and after games ("Hey! You behind the guys smoking the weed. Stop throwing that football around!") but since you couldn't see more than 10 feet we were able to throw the ball without getting harassed. And without being able to see the ball. "I hope the visibility is better inside the stadium," Toph said as we dropped pass after pass.

It wasn't. As we came up the stairs and into the stadium the fog was pretty bad. When we reached our seats all the way up in Section 311 about 10 rows from the top of the stadium, the field was a grey ghost. "Holy shit," I said. "Let's get that running game going." As the National Anthem ended fireworks burst in the sky. Or at least it sounded like fireworks. You really couldn't see them. Seems that the Pats were celebrating their first home playoff game in many years with fireworks. Fireworks make smoke. Lots of smoke. Due to the thick fog the smoke couldn't rise and instead mixed with the fog to make something thicker than smoke and thicker than fog. Smog? Shep started laughing. It was typical Patriots. Aren't fireworks for after you win the game?

The crowd roared as the Pats defense stopped the Steelers. But people were nervous. We had never won a home playoff game. You can't see the ball if it's 10 feet in the air. We had already shot off fireworks. Nervous. The Pats got the punt and the ball at about their 45-yard line. The offense came out and lined up for their first play. Bledsoe dropped back to pass. I looked left and saw rookie receiver Terry Glenn (who had a huge regular season despite, or because of, the fact that Parcells rode him like a Derby also-ran) take off at the snap and race down the far sideline towards the Steelers end zone. I looked right and saw Bledsoe rear back and toss a bomb high and deep... and into the fog. The ball disappeared. Completely. I looked left again and saw Glenn burn past the cornerback by three strides and turn and look up over his left shoulder. He waited. And waited. We all waited. And then the ball dropped out of the fog and fell right into his arms. Glenn cradled the ball and cut through the fog till he was tackled at about the five yard line. A 52-yard bomb on their first play of the game.

In all the games I've been to over the years I've never heard the crowd explode like that. All those years of disappointment seemed to be released in the fog with that one pass. We high-fived and screamed and then Martin crashed the ball in for a score on the next play and the Pats never looked back. A romp. A home playoff victory. Finally.

After the game we celebrated in the parking lot, grilling, drinking, and listening to the post-game radio show. The Tuna came to the podium. There were a lot of great things about Parcells. One of the best was his press conferences. He alternated between being the funniest wise-ass around to talking about what the defense did to stuff the other team on third-downs in a way only a great coach can. After answering all the questions Parcells ended with a message for the fans going to the AFC Championship game the following Sunday. "I want to thank the fans for the way they were behind us today," he said. "We've got another game next week. And there's even more on the line. Tell them to be ready to go again and be in their seats a little earlier."

Yes sir, Bill. Thanks for that first home playoff win.