His reaction is a mystery until ABC Sports clarifies the event, by replaying it over and again, in slow motion. Then Lawrence Taylor pops to his feet and begins to scream and wave and clutch his helmet with both hands, as if in agony. One hundred and ninety-six pounds of quarterback come to rest beneath a thousand or so pounds of other things. They're good for dramatic effect but practically irrelevant. Four other players, including, oddly, the Redskins' John Riggins, pile on. "Theismann's in a lot of trouble," the audience hears Gifford say, just before Taylor's arms jackknife Theismann's head to his knees and Taylor's torso pins Theismann's right leg to the ground. Frank Gifford is in the booth, flanked by O. The game is on ABC's Monday Night Football, and 17.6 million people have tuned in. He's certain he still has a few good years left in him. He's led his team to two Super Bowls, and won one. "When a quarterback looks at the rush," he says, "his career is over." Theismann has played in 163 straight games, a record for the Washington Redskins. He thinks this quality is a prerequisite in a successful NFL quarterback. Theismann prides himself on his ability to stand in the pocket and disregard his fear. He doesn't see Taylor leap, both arms over his head, and fill the sky behind him. He doesn't see Taylor carving a wide circle behind his back he doesn't see Taylor outrun his blocker upfield and then turn back down and he doesn't see the blocker diving, frantically, at Taylor's ankles. From the snap of the ball Theismann has lost sight of him.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |