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For 2/12/2002

Speechless...

In this, my 108th edition of Clint's Corner dating back to March of 1996, for the first time ever I have no idea where to begin. Usually I have the first few paragraphs of my column written in my head before the game is even over - not this time. No catchy intros, no bold predictions, no second-guessing. What I'm feeling at this point in time quite simply cannot be expressed in words.

Where do I start? I've literally been waiting my entire life for this. Since I watched my first Patriots game at age 13 - a playoff loss to Miami in the strike-shortened 1982 season - I have not missed a snap of Patriots football. I attended my first home game in the midst of the 1984 season, and since the kickoff of the 1985 season, I have only been absent from Foxboro Stadium for 5 home games, with no absences to report since the end of the 1991 campaign. I've been to at least 30 away games since I graduated college in 1992. To sum it up, I've been on this planet for 32 years, the past 20 of which have been spent passionately following our beloved local football team, hoping and praying for a day that may never dawn.

I remember vividly the feeling of leaving the Super Dome following Super Bowl XXXI. There are no guarantees that your team will ever get back to the Super Bowl, let alone win it. There were still plenty of teams out there in the NFL that had never appeared in a Super Bowl in 31 seasons, and now the Patriots were 0-for-2. I was sitting dejected in the airport, late at night, ready to board our charter flight back to New England. I wondered if I would ever have the feeling that the thousands and thousands of Packer Fans I had passed on my way to the airport bus were enjoying at that time.

A fan near the gate was wearing an official Super Bowl XXXI Champions locker room cap, but with the Patriots logo on it. "Where did you get that?" I asked. He explained that he had a connection with the company that made them, so he had access to one of the small number that were made up to be worn by the Patriots had they won the game. Made sense. But I could not stop staring at the hat - World Champion New England Patriots - a very cruel tease, just hours after a crushing defeat. Would such a hat ever exist for real? I knew that somewhere else at that very moment, a factory was feverishly gluing the Packers logo onto tens of thousands of those same hats. It's been 5 years since that time, and I've never forgotten the image of that hat - a simple $25 baseball cap with some embroidery and a damn logo.

Unforgettable...

Friday night and Saturday night down in the French Quarter were all about partying. Wearing my Bledsoe jersey around (while the wife and three kids were back at home), high fiving total strangers wearing Pats gear and trash talking with Rams fans. I headed down to New Orleans with a genuine feeling that the 14-point underdog Patriots were going to win this game. A few cocktails only solidified that belief and forced its outward expression.

Sunday morning began my business trip. Ask the guys I went down with - the Clint who they'd been out with the past two nights was no longer around. The 5:30 p.m. local kickoff seemed as far away as Santa's next visit to my 3-year old daughter. No partying on this day - just a beer or two to calm the nerves, but not enough to lose focus or to force too many unwelcome trips to the men's room after the kickoff. The Bledsoe replica jersey was left hanging up in the hotel room in favor of my authentic, signed #14 Steve Grogan. It was show time.

We were in our seats about 2-hours before kickoff, as were many thousands of other fans who sought to get inside early due to the promise of unprecedented security measures outside the stadium. I knew then that the Patriots were going to be introduced as a team. This is only a story to those who have not followed the Patriots at all this season. The Patriots have forgone the individual introductions since week 3 against the Colts. The Super Bowl introduction was not an attempt by the Patriots to make a statement to outside observers. Those who knew and followed this team were not at all surprised.

Following the kickoff was simply 3+ hours of gut wrenching football for me personally. Would the Rams score on their opening possession? Marshall Faulk has the ball again - look out! Warner has too much damn time back there! Can't the Patriots offense stay on the field? Can the Patriots defense really keep this up the entire game?

When Ty Law picked off Warner for the Patriots first touchdown to give the Pats the 7-3 lead, I just had the feeling that this was going to be New England's day. Marshall Faulk had not been a factor to that point, the Patriots defense was delivering crushing hits, and the Pats had a 7-3 lead despite their offense doing little more than not making mistakes. Patriots Football.

When the Pats offense came to life at the end of the first half, converting a Rams turnover into 7 more points, I could not believe my eyes. After reading countless predictions of a Rams blowout, the score at halftime was 14-3 Pats. The Patriots are going to win the Super Bowl. I had the same exact thought after Curtis Martin ran up the middle of the Packers defense in the 3rd quarter of Super Bowl XXXI to cut Green Bay's lead to 27-21. That hat. Oh, that hat.

When the Pats took a 17-3 lead into the 4th quarter, you just knew that the game could not end without the Rams making a run. The Steelers had made a run the week before against a tiring defense, a run squelched by two big time clock-eating drives orchestrated by Drew Bledsoe. You knew the Rams were going to make a run - but could the Patriots thwart it?

It's 4th and goal, the Rams outside the endzone directly in front of where I was sitting. Kurt Warner could not find an open receiver, rolled out to his right, and was heading for 7 directly below where I was sitting. He's hit - the ball's loose - and the fastest Patriot on the 53-man roster has the football with no one between him and the opposite endzone. Game over. To say I went totally nuts at that point would be a tremendous understatement. Finding out there was a flag on that play was nothing short of a kick to where it counts. The Patriots are not World Champions. It's not 24-3. It's 1st and goal. That hat again. 17-10 Pats.

The Patriots offense could not hold on to the ball, and the Rams offense was subsequently right back in business against a tired Patriots D with plenty of time left on the clock. The defense held once again, making huge plays to force a punt. You knew then that the defense had emptied their tanks. The Patriots offense would have to run out the final 3+ minutes.

Another 3-and-out and I was back to Desmond Howard's 99-yard kickoff return. I was back to Kevin Henry's hit on Bledsoe in the '97 playoffs in Pittsburgh that forced a late fumble and sealed a crushing 7-6 defeat. How about a Rulon Jones' sack of Tony Eason in the endzone in Mile High Stadium down 3 points with less than 2 minutes to play in the '86 playoffs? Call me a cynic, but I had the game tied at 17 while Ken Walter's punt was still in the air.

When Ricky Proehl dove across the goal line to tie the game with 1:30 to play, in a weird way I was glad the game was now on the line. This may sound petty, but if Tom Brady was going to win a Super Bowl with Bledsoe sitting on the bench, I was glad he was going to get the chance to earn it. Up to that point, Brady had completed 11 of 19 attempts for just 92 yards. Brady was now on the 17-yard line, tied in the biggest football game on the planet, with no timeouts remaining and the Rams knowing that Brady was going to drop back to pass on every down.

You all know what happened next. The stats will show that Brady was 5 of 8 for 53 yards. Two of those "incompletions," however, were spikes to stop the clock while the 3rd was a very heads up play to throw the ball away in the face of an all out Rams blitz on 1st and 10 at the New England 41.

Facing more pressure than can ever be placed on an NFL quarterback, the 24-year-old Brady calmly led the team down the field. The "big" play was the 23-yard pass to Troy Brown, but all 5 of his completions were huge. From the 5-yarder to J.R Redmond under pressure to start the drive to the 6-yarder to Wiggins to finish the march, Brady came up absolutely huge.

A lifetime of waiting...

After Tom Brady spiked the ball on the 30-yard line with 7 seconds left in the game, the field goal team, including Adam Vinatieri, strolled out onto the field as if this were a pre-season game. As I watched the play clock ticking down inside of 15 seconds, I turned to my friend who I was sitting next to and stated very calmly, "I've been waiting my entire life for this."

The kick was only in the air for a few seconds, but just as one's life is said to pass before the eyes at times, all of my ups and downs as a Patriots fan over the years were rushing through my head. My first home game in 1984. The '85 playoffs. Steve Grogan. Stanley Morgan. Division Champs in 1986. Rulon Jones' safety. Rich Camarillo onside punt - recovered by Denver - game over. The Scab games. Bob Blier. Michael LeBlanc. Larry Linne. 0-8 at home in 1990. Rod Rust. Tommy Hodson. Attending a virtual Giants "home game" in Foxboro Stadium. Mosi Tatupu. A date in 1991 asking me to remove my Patriots jacket before meeting her friends in a bar in West Hartford - and my refusal to do so.

Having to explain throughout 4 years of college why I was a Patriots fan when the Sox, Celtics, and Bruins were all doing so well. Season tickets? Are you on drugs? Pushing my equally as devoted father in a wheelchair to all of the home games in 1992. Leaving Foxboro Stadium in December of 1993 wondering if there would be a 1994 season. Getting the call from my Dad at my desk at work that Bob Kraft had bought the team - they were staying. Seven straight in '94. Drew for President. Incomplete to Ray Crittendon on 4th down in Cleveland. The '96 playoffs. Fog Bowl. The AFC Championship game at home. Drew for President. Desmond Howard. Heartbreak. Tuna Gate. Wasted draft choices. Bobby Grier. Pete Carroll. Curtis Martin. Bledsoe's broken finger in 1998. Humiliation at the hands of the AFC East Champion Jets. Scott Zolak. A 1st round pick for Belichick? Say what? 5-11 in 2000 - I told you so. Opening day in Cinicinnati 2001. "You suck" from Bengals fans - the ultimate low.

All of that and more while the ball was in the air. No kidding. All of that is what made that kick going through the uprights more special to me than 99% of the 1.25 million fans who braved the cold for the Super Bowl parade the following Tuesday.

I'm not sure how long I was jumping up and down and screaming. One minute? Three? The confetti was still streaming onto the field when chants of "we're #1" broke out in my section and throughout Patriot Nation in the Super Dome. As I extended my index finger into the air and joined the crowd, it was then that the tears began streaming down my cheeks. "We're #1" as loud as I could say it. Over, and over, and over again.

The tears dried up and Bob Kraft took the podium. "Patriots fans have been waiting 42 years for this day," he bellowed as I teared up once again. A few moments later one of my best friends John, who has gone to almost every home game with me for the past 3 seasons, had made his way down from the upper deck to our section. He bolted toward me and we hugged like long lost brothers - his eyes already reddened with emotion as well.

We weren't a mile from the Super Dome when we noticed a small gathering in a tiny store just outside of the French Quarter. The owner was feverishly ringing up merchandise. We went inside and hanging before me was a t-shirt. New England Patriots - Super Bowl Champions. I could not believe me eyes. There it was. A Patriots fan's Shroud of Turin. Unbelievable.

You'd have thought I went out partying like never before, but I had nothing left. I was emotionally exhausted. I felt like a Wile E. Coyote who had just caught the Roadrunner - now what? I was on Cloud 9 - but perfectly content to keep the enjoyment to myself. I was not up for drinking and screaming - all I could do was walk around with a permanent smile on my face.

Patriot Nation is rejoicing, but few know how I feel. One who does is Gil Santos - the long time play-by-plan man for the Pats. He was watching every snap long before I watched my first game in 1982. Gil isn't just an announcer, but one of New England's greatest Patriots fans. It's been 10 days since the game was played, and I still can't listen to his call of the game winning kick without fighting back the tears. Gil didn't just let us know what happened, he erupted in a joy that only long suffering Patriots fans can understand. It was so genuine.

I'm 32 years old. I have wonderful parents, a loving sister, and a 91-year old grandmother who was praying for me - not the Patriots - on February 3rd. I have a wife that God knows I don't deserve, and three absolutely beautiful children, all ages 3 and under. On Monday, February 4, at around 5:30am in a small gift shop at the Baton Rouge airport, I finally got my hat.

World Champion New England Patriots. I must have taken it off of my head a dozen times on the flight home just to read it. God Bless America, and thank you New England Patriots for making a lifelong dream come true.

See you next week.