On Sunday, January 12, 1969, the editorial cartoon in The State, the daily newspaper from Columbia, S.C., was of a young colt smiling and stomping on a jet that was grounded and broken in two.
Both the colt and the airliner had on little helmets with the logos of the teams they
were representing.
That’s how most people figured that day’s Super Bowl III would end, with Baltimore’s Colts of the NFL beating New York’s Jets of the AFL by five or six touchdowns — although the official betting line was 18.
Of course, cocky 25-year-old Joe Namath and the Jets beat Baltimore, 16-7, in Miami. Baltimore’s quarterbacks played a bigger role than Namath: Earl Morrall and Johnny U. combined for four interceptions, two in the end zone and one at the goal line.
The great defensive lineman Fred Miller of Homer, LSU and the Colts, passed away at 82 last February and said until the end that it was that loss to the Jets that troubled him the most, made him angry whenever he thought about it.
I remember it because it was Super Bowl I to me, the first Super Bowl that activates any memory. My pre-10-year-old brain had not been able to register Green Bay’s sweep of Super Bowls I and II.
It was a big year for a kid in a Carolina farming town of 750 to begin realizing that the world expanded beyond Myrtle Beach and Columbia. New York was, I figured, the only team that got to win titles: the Jets won, the Mets beat Baltimore, and the Knicks beat the Los Angeles Lakers that year.
Two more things about 1969. That Super Bowl III lit some sort of sports fire in me, expanded everything. The Baltimore Orioles and their Arkansas third baseman, Brooks Robinson, became my baseball team, and the Birds being upset by the Miracle Mets that October taught me at an early age a bit about love and loss.
The other thing: Willis Reed from Lincoln Parish, who passed away in March of last year at 80, was a bad, bad man (in a good, good way). The former Grambling star limped onto the court before what many call the Greatest Game 7 Ever Played in NBA history, and his inspiring return from injury was the shot the Knicks needed to demolish the visiting Lakers that day to win the title in Madison Square Garden, back when the Garden was Eden. That scene was probably a lot more dynamic in person than on our little black-and-while Sylvania. Or was it a Philco …?
Sports matter.
If you are a sports fan and, like me, nearing the time when Medicare and Social Security are things your friends are reminding you to familiarize yourself with, you can remember when you could recite every Super Bowl matchup, along with the
score and where it was played.
I can’t do that anymore. (New Orleans 31, Indianapolis 17 in Miami, 2010, is an
exception.)
Used to, the game was the thing. It was actually a really big deal. Halftime shows for Super Bowls I and II were Grambling’s “World Famed Tiger Marching Band,” a bad, bad band (in a good, good way). Today, halftime is an “extravaganza,” the commercials are more anticipated than the contest, and the pregame show is longer than the game. Today it’s Super Bowl parties and prop bets.
Which is fine. Things change. And they needed to. Fred Miller and Willis Reed
were the best at what they did, and they had off-season jobs.
Still fun to remember, though.
Last year, Kansas City beat Philadelphia, 38-35. Great game (I think; had to look it up to remember. Insert confused-face emoji here.) Sunday in Las Vegas, San Francisco is a two-point favorite over Kansas City, an organization playing it its fourth Super Bowl in five seasons.
This bureau will pull for KC because L’Jarius Sneed of Minden and Louisiana Tech plays cornerback for them. If he plays as he has all season, maybe he’ll give us something fun to remember. No matter what, it’s a better bet we’ll be talking about either halftime or a commercial.
Contact Teddy at teddy@latech.edu