Parcells

by Bill Parcells

  The accelerated pace of Buffalo’s no-huddle offense was designed to disorient and ultimately exhaust opposing defenses. The system had been created that season by Bills coordinator Ted Marchibroda, who had given Bill Belichick his first NFL gig with the Baltimore Colts in 1975. Buffalo’s offense performed as if it was in a perpetual two-minute drill—the hurry-up approach that teams use when they’re behind late in the game. Marchibroda liked to run the maximum number of plays in the shortest time possible, putting tremendous pressure on defenses, which struggled to make substitutions or set up in proper formation.

  Jim Kelly, the NFL’s top-rated quarterback, doubled as play-caller, a role typically assigned to coaches. He barked plays as his unit, often using three-wideout sets, hurried to the line of scrimmage. Part of the reason why Buffalo excelled in its innovative system was that it featured first-rate talent at the skill positions: a star passer in Kelly, dangerous receivers in Andre Reed and James Lofton, and a top tailback with pass-catching ability in Thurman Thomas. They all would end up in the Hall of Fame.

  Before Parcells began the staff meeting, his coaches were understandably focusing on Buffalo’s bazooka-armed quarterback.

  Parcells declared, “Kelly’s not playing in this game.”

  Confounded by the remark, some coaches responded, “What?”

  “We’re not gonna let him play.”

  The head coach summarized the game plan he had discussed privately with his coordinators. Ron Erhardt’s offense, emphasizing O. J. Anderson, would milk the clock in order to minimize Kelly’s snaps, hopefully forcing him into impatience. Anderson’s smashmouth style on long drives would also wear down Buffalo’s defense. “We’re just going to pound them to death.”

  On defense Bill Belichick planned to use an unconventional scheme to disrupt Buffalo’s tempo: few linemen while extra defensive backs focused on Kelly’s passing attack and pummeled receivers underneath. To unveil the counterintuitive plan, Belichick held a meeting with his unit in a hotel conference room. With the players seated, the coordinator got straight to the point. “I want Thurman Thomas to run for over 100 yards in the Super Bowl.”

  Several guys looked at each other in disbelief, while others grumbled or cursed the idea. Belichick wasn’t surprised by the reaction. His unit took pride in being among the NFL’s best at stopping the run. In the previous two seasons, Big Blue had allowed just two tailbacks to reach 100-plus rushing yards in a game.

  Belichick insisted. “You guys are going to have to trust me. In order for us to win this football game, Thurman Thomas is going to have to gain 100 yards.”

  He expounded on his rationale. Hard-pressed to halt Buffalo’s offense, Big Blue could minimize big gains with novel schemes using as many as eight pass defenders. Belichick intended to tempt Kelly with open running lanes or force him into throws in front of defenders positioned to pummel his receivers.

  The defensive boss expressed confidence in his unit’s ability to stop Thomas when it mattered most.

  “Are you guys with me on this?”

  They grudgingly consented.

  The Giants also added an element of gamesmanship. Defensive players were instructed to occasionally kick the ball “by accident” after a referee set it down, and to disentangle themselves from piles as slowly as possible. Last, defenders were encouraged to exaggerate any injuries so trainers would have to spend time getting to the field. While interrupting Kelly’s rhythm, the shenanigans would also provide Big Blue’s defense with a breather.

  Even in Tampa’s sunny climes, Parcells made his team practice in pads every day while the Buffalo Bills worked out in shells and shorts. To prepare for Kelly’s speedy no-huddle offense, Big Blue’s defense practiced lining up as quickly as possible. Belichick’s quirky strategy of using only two or three pass rushers showed promise against Big Blue’s scout team emulating Buffalo’s offense. And after several practices, any traces of player skepticism about Belichick’s upside-down plan had vanished.

  On Friday the Giants rode to their final practice. As usual, Lawrence Taylor took his seat next to Parcells near the front of the lead bus. During the ride, the head coach made a strange request.

  “I want you to start a fight with Jumbo at the end of practice today.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  During the spirited practice session, Taylor riled Jumbo Elliott so much that the offensive lineman ran after him while threatening violence. The six-seven, 305-pounder had no chance of catching Taylor, so he slowed down, shouting, “You bastard.” Parcells, who had been watching the action, took the opportunity to yell, “Maybe L.T.’s worried about Bruce Smith ruining this game for us.”

  Elliott stopped jogging. Enraged now, he swung around and glared at his head coach.

  “Bruce Smith won’t be ruining a damn thing. I’m going to kick his ass.”

  After the outburst Taylor understood why Parcells had made his odd request. The massive lineman performed his best when agitated leading up to a game. And with a small margin for error against Buffalo, Big Blue couldn’t afford to have Bruce Smith, the NFL’s defensive player of the year, disrupt its offense. Circling back after accomplishing his mission, Taylor winked at Parcells, but the head coach remained stone-faced.

  Elliott wouldn’t find out for several years that Taylor had been in cahoots with Parcells.

  The Super Bowl kickoff was scheduled for its latest time ever, 6:15 p.m., but at dawn Parcells was already roaming the hotel lobby. He persuaded Mickey Corcoran, once again his special guest at the Super Bowl, to come down for coffee. And early riser Matt Cavanaugh, the backup quarterback, soon joined them. Within a few hours, Tampa Stadium was humming with unusual activity. Helicopters whirred overhead, and black-garbed SWAT teams and anti-terrorist police in camouflage patrolled the stadium roof, machine guns at the ready. Bomb-sniffing dogs led their handlers. Heavy concrete barriers ringed the arena to prevent vehicles containing explosives from reaching the structure. Tampa Stadium itself was surrounded by a chain-link fence that extended six feet high.

  Security measures such as bomb-sniffing dogs were typical for the event. But Super Bowl XXV was taking place only ten days into the Gulf War, heightening concerns about a terrorist attack and generating a showing of patriotism. The security force of 1,700 easily exceeded any ever seen at an American sporting event. At each gate dozens of yellow-jacketed security guards with black handheld detectors would pat down each spectator, setting aside banned items that included miniature TV sets, cameras, radios, and umbrellas.

  Around noon, more than six hours before kickoff, Bill Parcells walked into an empty locker room. He was already in game-day clothes, navy slacks with a navy-and-red sweater emblazoned with “Giants” over a red dress shirt. To calm his nerves Parcells lit a cigarette and paced the room, mentally reviewing the game plan as he waited for the first players to arrive.

  After a few more hours, 73,813 spectators, many carrying American flags and patriotic signs displaying messages like “God Bless America,” began filling Tampa Stadium. Swarms of Giants and Bills fans wearing their team colors—red, white, blue, gray—added to the display of nationalism. The enormous screens behind each end zone alternated images of American soldiers in the battle zone with their compatriots on the home front. When Parcells stepped on the field for warm-ups, he started to grasp just how much America was rallying around the game.

  As the sun set behind clouds in the west, temperatures reached the low 70s. Military personnel from different branches lined the field in preparation for the national anthem. Officers held state flags. The Florida Orchestra stood on the gridiron behind Whitney Houston to back up her performance of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Wearing a white headband and matching tracksuit with a red-and-blue print, Houston faced the Giants sidelines. Bill Parcells, about fifteen yards away from the singer, stood to the far left of his players. On the Bills sideline wideout James Lofton thought to himself, “Why can’t she turn around and look at us?”
He hoped that Buffalo’s view of the singer from behind wasn’t a bad omen.

  Fans waved miniature flags as Houston hit one sublime note after another. Parcells’s mind drifted away from football for the first time all day, as the head coach realized he was witnessing a special moment that transcended sports. Houston’s soaring notes, graceful yet filled with strength, seemed to speak to the nation. As she sang the final lyrics of the anthem, “O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave,” Houston stretched her arms out wide, then up to the sky. At that moment four sleek F-16 fighter jets swooped over the stadium.

  “We’re talking goose bumps on top of goose bumps,” Tom Coughlin recalls.

  Parcells adds, “As preoccupied as we all were with getting ready to play, when the national anthem was over we did the only thing you can do after you hear something like that: we applauded.” Houston’s rendition, prerecorded in anticipation of deafening crowd noise, was instantly ranked among the best-ever performances of the national anthem.

  After the Bills received the kickoff, Bill Belichick surprised them by unleashing his quirky 2-3-6 formation: two linemen, three linebackers, and six defensive backs. The striking departure from New York’s renowned 3-4 meant that defensive end Leonard Marshall and nose tackle Erik Howard were the only two down linemen, with Lawrence Taylor lining up in an unfamiliar spot as the third pass rusher. Pepper Johnson and Carl Banks were the other two linebackers, supported by six defensive backs. In one variation of the package Johnson sometimes attacked the quarterback while Taylor dropped into pass coverage. In another wrinkle Belichick inserted an extra linebacker and removed a defensive back to create a 2-4-5.

  Seeing open space for short throws, Jim Kelly completed two passes on crossing patterns to wideout Andre Reed, but Buffalo was forced to punt without gaining a first down, creating some early Giants confidence in Belichick’s risky plan.

  Big Blue’s offense opened with a jumbo package that presaged its use of brute force: three tight ends fortifying a line anchored by the six-seven, 305-pound Elliott. “Fat slobs,” says Mark Bavaro, “picking you up and moving you, and letting you tackle O. J. if you could.” Introducing a dollop of David Meggett for a slithery change of pace, the Giants steadily gained enough yardage to take a quick 3–0 lead.

  With Belichick’s defense more intent on harassing Buffalo’s wideouts than its quarterback, New York clogged the deep throwing lanes while targeting Andre Reed for wallops after medium-range receptions. The Giants wanted the Pro Bowl wideout to start hearing footsteps, as the additional defensive backs generated extra hits. Although pummeled after several catches, Reed helped the Bills score a field goal and a touchdown to lead 10–3 in the second quarter.

  The Giants took possession for a second-and-9 on their 7 when a pass play seemed headed toward disaster. Anticipating Bruce Smith’s attack on the middle of Big Blue’s line, O. J. Anderson stepped forward to block him, and Jeff Hostetler, backpedaling, tripped over Anderson’s right foot. The quarterback stumbled into the end zone as Smith bulled past Anderson. Struggling to regain his balance while moving to his right, Hostetler sensed Smith closing in from behind. As Smith grabbed his prey’s right wrist, Hostetler pulled the ball away. The quarterback used his left hand to gain control, pressing the pigskin against his stomach while falling to the ground. Smith’s sack for a safety increased Buffalo’s lead to 12–3 with less than nine minutes left in the second quarter, but Hostetler’s tenacity and composure had prevented a defensive touchdown, and what might have been an insurmountable lead.

  Despite the nine-point deficit, Big Blue’s offense stuck to its game plan. On the Giants sideline Parcells implored his offense. “Come on, run with power. Run with power. Let’s see some power, Jumbo.” After taking possession on its 13, New York used three-tight-end packages, repeatedly handing off to O. J. Anderson for successful power runs. The six-two, 220-pounder meted out as much punishment as he received, using his powerful right arm to whack oncoming tacklers. On one play, linebacker Shane Conlan broke his face mask trying to corral Anderson.

  With the Bills focused on Anderson, Hostetler went play-action several times on bootlegs to hit tight end Mark Bavaro running across the field. Fatigued by the prolonged drive in the Tampa humidity, Buffalo’s defense, particularly its linebackers, failed to react in time to Hostetler’s throws. Showing accuracy, Simms’s replacement zipped a 17-yard pass to Stephen Baker, tightly covered in an end-zone corner. The touchdown reduced Big Blue’s deficit to two points, and the drive consumed almost eight minutes, leaving Jim Kelly frustrated with only 25 seconds remaining in the half. Although the Bills were leading 12–10 at halftime, their high-speed offense had still not gotten on track.

  The Gulf War precluded ABC from broadcasting the Super Bowl’s halftime show featuring New Kids on the Block, so ABC News showed a special war report instead, which included an address by President Bush and the First Lady, Barbara. Around the same time Parcells spoke to his players in the Giants locker room. “I was at a Super Bowl four years ago, and some of you guys were with me. We were in the exact same situation then as we are now. The first drive of the third quarter is the most important of the game. We have to do something with it.”

  Upon receiving the second-half kickoff, the Giants embarked on another run-heavy drive. Jumbo Elliott steamrolled Buffalo’s defensive linemen as Anderson ran from behind the left tackle’s rump. Grass stains on the back of Bruce Smith’s jersey offered evidence of Elliott’s powerful blocking. And in a typical sign of fatigue, the Pro Bowl defensive end barely got down into his stance before several snaps.

  The Giants sustained the drive, converting four third downs. Perhaps the most pivotal one occurred on third-and-13 from Buffalo’s 32. On a crossing route to his right, wideout Mark Ingram snagged a pass eight yards from the line of scrimmage. The drive seemed doomed as Ingram was swarmed by Bills defenders well short of the first down. But the wideout ran through a leg tackle by a diving defender, and pirouetted to his left, spinning free of a would-be tackler who had grabbed him by the shoulders. As yet another Bills player moved into Ingram’s path, the wideout faked left and darted right, leaving the defender grabbing air. With only one yard left to go for the first down, Ingram was hit cleanly, but the five-ten, 195-pounder hopped forward on one leg, dragging two defenders with him to Buffalo’s 20. Another first down!

  Four plays later O. J. Anderson plowed ahead one yard for a touchdown that put New York up 17–12. By bleeding 9:29 from the clock while accumulating 74 yards, New York had produced the most time-consuming drive in Super Bowl history. The fourteen-play sequence changed the tone of the game, and gave Jim Kelly a sense of urgency. But Big Blue’s defense continued frustrating the quarterback, switching occasionally to four linebackers for a change of pace. And although Belichick’s unit blew some coverages, it prevented Kelly from establishing Buffalo’s standard tempo. After having caught seven balls in the first half, wideout Andre Reed struggled. As the Giants had hoped, he lost interest in catching passes that assured multiple savage hits.

  A Bills drive starting late in the third quarter showed the potency of their offense in rhythm. Buffalo advanced 63 yards in just four plays, and on the opening play of the fourth quarter Thurman Thomas sprinted 31 yards for a touchdown that gave Buffalo a 19–17 lead.

  The Giants responded with another long drive buttressed by Mark Bavaro’s catches. But after accumulating 74 yards in 7:24, the Giants stalled at Buffalo’s 3. Matt Bahr’s 21-yard field goal capped the fourteen-play sequence, giving Big Blue a one-point lead. Buffalo and New York then exchanged unsuccessful drives, keeping the score at 20–19. With the Giants forced to punt from Buffalo’s 48, Kelly had one last chance to orchestrate a scoring drive; with 2:16 left, the Bills took over on their 10. Buffalo accumulated substantial yardage against Big Blue’s prevent defense, using short passes, run plays, and quarterback scrambles. Kelly darted up the middle several times to exploit open space, and Thurman Thomas’s seven-yard dash in the waning m
oments brought his team to New York’s 30. After Kelly’s spike to stop the clock, eight seconds remained, enough time for Scott Norwood to attempt a 47-yard game winner.

  Norwood’s career-best was a 49-yarder, and during the season he had converted a 48-yarder. However, ABC provided a revealing graphic of his career numbers on grass: one of five from distances of 40 yards or more. And the field-goal attempt to decide the Super Bowl would take place on grass.

  Matt Bahr approached Parcells with a prediction. “Bill, he’s only made one from 47 yards on grass all year. He’s going to overkick it.”

  In one of Tampa Stadium’s executive suites, Wellington Mara’s wife, Ann, clutched her rosary beads. Just as they had done in the NFC Championship, some Giants formed a circle on the sideline. Jeff Hostetler knelt, biting his fingernails, while Mickey Corcoran, wearing a red cap, chewed gum to the quarterback’s right. Across the field the Bills, including head coach Marv Levy, held hands in a long line, awaiting the action.

  Bills holder Frank Reich placed the ball down cleanly. Norwood boomed the kick, ensuring it would go the distance, but the kicker knew immediately that it would veer right. As the pigskin sailed a couple of feet wide of the right goalpost, several Giants on the field leaped and threw up their arms. But many of their teammates on the sideline didn’t react until a referee in the end zone signaled that the kick was wide right.

  As Carl Banks and Pepper Johnson hugged Parcells, the head coach asked his players, “Would you guys take me for a ride?”

  Banks responded, “Let’s go. Let’s take this man for a ride.”

  Lawrence Taylor joined his two teammates in lifting Parcells onto their shoulders. Smiling, Parcells pumped his right fist in what would become a defining moment in his career, replayed on television countless times over the decades.

  Norwood’s missed kick assured the Giants of their second Super Bowl in five years, and it placed Parcells in a small group of coaches to capture two Lombardi Trophies, securing his legacy at age forty-nine. In the press box Tom Coughlin was among the Giants coaches leaping, embracing, and slapping each other fives. With four seconds left Jeff Hostetler took a knee, sealing the closest-ever Super Bowl outcome, as Coughlin and his cohort raced to a stadium elevator to reach the field. One Bills coach ended up on the ride down, suffering as Parcells’s staff rejoiced.