My Worst NFL Playoff Game

With the NFL Playoffs upon us, I’d like to revisit the worst playoff game I ever attended. On January 5, 1991, the Philadelphia Eagles hosted the Washington Redskins at Veterans Stadium. It was the second time that season I would watch these two teams face off, as I was at the infamous Body Bag Game on November 12 also played at the Vet.

Now I have absolutely no interest in either of these teams as I am a die-hard Oakland-Los Angeles-Oakland (again)-Las Vegas Raiders fan. Both trips to Philly were for me to work on the production of the game for ABC Sports, my employer at the time. I worked as an accounting clerk during the week and during football season I would work the college football halftime show on Saturdays. If the Monday night games were either in New Jersey or Philadelphia I would ask to work them as well. A playoff game in Philly on a Saturday? I’m there!

For the Body Bag Game in November, I was a spotter for our Director Craig Janoff. Basically, I was in the truck with the statisticians and a few other guys and it was my job to give Craig the downs and yardage on every play. In addition, when the play clock got down to 5, I was to say play clock at 5, 4, 3… just to keep him abreast of what was going on. It was an easy gig and a lot of fun too.

For the playoff game in January, I was all set to do the same job, then disaster struck. On the train ride down to Philly, I felt my temperature rising and I really started feeling like crap. As I got to the stadium, I must have looked like death. The production assistant Russ, asked me if I was ok. I was honest and said that I felt like crap and didn’t know if would make it through the game.

He took pity on me and gave me my assignment, which would not be spotting for Craig. Instead, he gave me the two giant ABC Sports banners and told me to hang one in each end zone. Then I was to go up and watch the game in the press box. Then with about five minutes left I was to go back down on the field, wait until the clock said 0:00 and take the two banners down and return them to him. Easy gig. 

 I did as I was told and hung the banners then went up to the press box, where I ran into my colleague Mark Mandel the ABC Sports PR Director. He went and told me what I already knew, “You look like death!”

I told him thank you and that I knew that. I sat next to him and we proceeded to watch the game together. All I wanted was a hot bowl of soup and for the game to be over so I could head back to New York. I don’t think I got any soup and I don’t recall too much about the game but I do remember that there were stale Christmas cookies for dessert.

With five minutes remaining and the Redskins with a 20-6 lead, I said goodbye to Mark and made my way down to the field. My timing was perfect, because as I stepped onto the painted concrete that served as the astroturf of Veterans Stadium, the game was over. I made my way to the endzone and began taking down the first banner. As I was dislodging it, I felt something land in my hair. Apparently, a fan in the first row was kicking peanut shells off the landing.  

“Hey watch it,” I said. “There are people down here.”

All decked out in his green sweatpants and Eagles paraphernalia that included a jersey, jacket and hat, he proceeded to give me the finger.

I stepped back with the banner in my hand, smiled at him and asked if he enjoyed the game.

“Fuck you” he screamed.

I just started laughing as I walked toward the other end zone to retrieve the other banner.

All I wanted to do now was get the hell out of Philly and back on the train to New York. I took SEPTA to the 30^th Street Station and got on New Jersey Transit to Penn Station. The hour plus ride was rather uneventful as I tried to sleep with my head against the window. When I exited the train at Penn, I thought that I smelled smoke, but I thought nothing of it. I hopped in a cab and headed home. As the cab driver turned down 94^th Street, I heard someone on the radio say that there was a fire in Penn Station and there were no trains coming in or heading out of the terminal.

All I thought as I paid the driver, was that I dodged a bullet. I would have lost it had I been stuck on a train not going anywhere in my current condition. When I got home and took my temperature it was 102. I drank a hot cup of tea and crawled into bed.   

The next night I had tickets for the Knicks game in the Garden. At about three in the afternoon, I called up my friend Al and asked if he wanted them. He said yes and he came over to my apartment to get them. I opened the door and handed him the tickets, he took one look at me and said “You look like shit!”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “I’ve been getting that a lot this weekend.”

It’s Just Name Calling

Pardon me if I don’t get it. I love football. I love the NFL. In fact I love the NFL so much that I have a freelance gig scoring NFL games from September to January. I love watching football. The game is great. However, I will never get the fascination with fans wanting to attend the NFL Draft.

I have never had nor will I ever have the desire to attend this event. Let’s be honest here, all the draft is, is players names being called. Call me silly but I find nothing exciting about this.

Like any fan I am curious as to who will be selected first. I am also curious as to whom my team, the Oakland Raiders, will select with the fifth pick. I want to know who the hometown Jets and Giants will take as well. And like everyone else I have a morbid curiosity to see how far Johnny Manziel will slip down, that is if he slips at all. As far as being in Radio City Music Hall tonight, you’d have a better chance catching me at a Justin Bieber concert.

Will I watch the draft? If I remember to put it on I will. Even then I will be flipping channels. Keep in mind playoff hockey is in full swing and I’d much rather watch that. More than likely I will read about the draft online that evening or even the next day.

Three days of names being called? And NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has talked of potentially stretching it into a four day event? Hahahahahaha!!! Even the most hard core NFL fan would not be able to watch four days of this!

Call me silly, but sitting in Radio City Music Hall tonight listening to the Commissioner call out names is nowhere near as exciting as sitting in a stadium watching a team engineer a fourth quarter comeback after being down by 20 points.

Which sounds better:

“I was in Madison Square Garden in 2004 when I heard Eli Manning’s name called and saw him walk out on to the stage.”

or:

“I was at Super Bowl XLII in Phoenix and I saw Manning throw that pass to David Tyree which I still can’t believe that he caught.”

It is apples and oranges if you ask me. Not only does the second statement sound better but it’s something I’d much rather witness live.

The NFL Draft is not an exact science. More often than not, you can’t judge a pick until that player is four or five years into his career. Some players come in and make an immediate impact like Tony Dorsett did with Dallas in 1977, when he won the Rookie of the Year Award and then a Super Bowl Championship.

For other players it takes a few years to mature into superstardom. Peyton Manning didn’t win his first MVP award until 2003, his fifth year in the league, it would take him another three years to win his first, and as of now, his only Super Bowl Championship. Then there is Ryan Leaf who was drafted in the second slot behind Manning in 1998. I’ll just leave Leaf right there for you to ponder the “not an exact science” statement above.

I am sure there will be thousands of NFL fans in Radio City tonight. I won’t be one of them. After all it’s just names being called.