The 1966 Red Sox had finished in ninth place in the old 10-team American League and fielded basically the same lineup the following season. What ensued was, arguably, the greatest pennant race in baseball history. Four teams still had a shot at the pennant the final week of the season and three-Boston, the Minnesota Twins and the Detroit Tigers-were still in contention on the final day. When the Red Sox beat the Twins in the final game, they had to hold off the celebration for more than three hours until the Tigers finally lost to the Angels.
The frenzy back then certainly was comparable to Pats-mania today. (Sunday’s win over Pittsburgh drew an 80 share of the Boston viewing audience, the biggest in the city’s history.) And there were numerous other similarities. The Red Sox too had a breakout young star. Carl Yastrzemski, who hadn’t hit more than 20 home runs in the big leagues, finally revealed what would prove to be Hall of Fame talent. Yaz hit .326 with 44 homers and 121 RBIs, the last player in baseball history to capture the Triple Crown.
The only thing standing between the Red Sox and the ultimate baseball glory, their first championship in 49 seasons, was a powerhouse team from St. Louis. (Anyone yet see where this nostalgic metaphor is going?) St. Louis, having won 101 games that season, the most by any NL team in the ’60s, was a prohibitive favorite. But the Sox were plucky-and lucky-and seemingly possessed by a magical touch. They pushed St. Louis to seven games.
In the end, though, St. Louis had too much talent-namely one guy with too strong an arm (the great Bob Gibson pitched three complete games, allowing only three runs and 14 hits) and another with too much speed (Hall of Famer Lou Brock hit .414 and stole seven bases). Which, unhappily for this longtime Patriots season ticket-holder, sounds an awful lot like the St. Louis Rams, with Kurt Warner and Marshall Faulk, on the Super Bowl Sunday.
The Rams have every conceivable advantage in Super Bowl XXXVI. They are a speed team on a surface built for speed (and one in New Orleans that they are familiar with, having competed on the Super Dome carpet every single season against their division rival, the Saints) behind the best quarterbacking arm in the NFL since Dan Marino’s early years. Their defense is mobile and versatile and boasts a true difference-maker in Aeneas Williams. Williams, whose talent was conspicuous even when he was buried in the NFL wasteland of Arizona, is simply the best ballhawking secondary man in the league.
The Patriots’ sole advantage, besides the mystical “team of destiny” feeling that has attached itself to this squad, doesn’t appear to be the same plus against St. Louis that it was against Pittsburgh. The Steelers, a good but not great team, confused the bookmaking line with victory on the field. They talked about recording a Super Bowl song, moaned about problems related to distribution of Super Bowl tickets and dreamed about the parties on Bourbon Street. (Not to toot myself as a tout, but I did tell you last week that both championship games were among the biggest overlays I had ever seen in the NFL. You could be rich if you listened to me; I could be rich if I listened to me.)
The Rams will not make the mistake of failing to take the Patriots seriously. Not because they’re so much smarter than Pittsburgh, although that appears to be the case, too. No, it’s because the Rams played the Patriots earlier this year and were mightily impressed. Who knows what might have happened if New England’s Antowain Smith had not fumbled heading into the end zone near the end of the second quarter, which would have given the Pats a 17-7 lead. In the end, the Rams were the better team, but they still only beat the Pats by a touchdown, 24-17. (Which suggests that the Super Bowl may be another big overlay. On the other hand …)
The Rams made plenty of respectful noises about the Pats after that game and have continued to sing their praises ever since. They said New England was the most physical team they played all year and very likely the best. And those initial kind words followed a game that left New England at just .500, 5-5. Surely the Rams weren’t being diplomatic, anticipating what no one else in the world did-that the Patriots would win out the season to get to New Orleans. To quote Bill Parcells simple profundity again this week: You are what your record is. No mediocre team, let alone a bad team, wins eight in a row at this point in the season. The Pats are no fluke.
At least part of the lack of respect the team gets is the perception that they are the old Patsies-perpetually hapless, one of the leagues perennial doormats. But that’s been a mistaken notion for a while. This is New England’s third trip to the Super Bowl since 1986. (Ironically, their third trip to New Orleans for the Super Bowl; sadly their third trip as a double-digit underdog against NFC powerhouses.) Only two other teams, Denver and Buffalo, have made it to the Super Bowl more often in that period. Three Others-the Giants, 49ers and Cowboys-have made it three times, too. There are 15 teams that haven’t made it to the big game at all during that stretch, including some teams like the Raiders, Dolphins, Vikings and Redskins that are generally regarded as NFL powers.
Those of you who follow my column know I am more than just a Patriots season ticket-holder and fan. My seat is part of a 42-year family legacy, every year of the team’s existence. I sat deliriously happy in a blizzard two weekends ago to watch the Pats beat the Raiders. I flirted with going to Pittsburgh, then settled for jumping around my living room like a 10-year-old on a Nintendo bender.
All that being said, I have never cared that much about the outcome of the Super Bowl. Mind you, I watch them religiously (and when my wife went into labor during Super Bowl XXI, all I could muster was “you’re kidding” and a plea to hold on until halftime). Part of it is that if you win a championship game, you can keep the roll going another week. So much of the fun is in the talk and the anticipation. Win or lose the Super Bowl, you’re going home just the same.
Another part of it is that the Super Bowl winner usually follows up with something of pratfall. I wouldn’t be minutes into a victory celebration before it would occur to me how disappointing next year will likely be. And finally, there’s the truth that rivalry is the bedrock of sports. I’ve got nothing personal against the Rams. (My wife and her whole family are from St. Louis and are lovely people. Very lovely people. Really, really nice. Nor did I have grudges against the Bears or the Packers in 1986 or 1997, respectively. Only teams like the evil Raiders, arrogant Dolphins and despised Jets get my juices really flowing. (Funny, I’ve never been able to work myself up about one very successful division rival, Buffalo, figuring their fans suffer enough having to live in Buffalo-and losing four Super Bowls in a row.)
So what’s the bottom line? What does all this add up to. Probably not this, but here goes anyway. Sunday in New Orleans: New England, 27; St. Louis, 24. I’d rather be hung for a fool than a quisling.
