Championship Charms

Growing up in Miami in the 70s, a girl could not help but become a football fan.  It was a matter of survival.  You either got Dolphin fever, or you dried up as a social outcast.  Such was the domination of football once a man named Don Shula left Baltimore to make his home in the land of sunshine.  He put the lightning in Bob Griese, the 2-time All-American quarterback from Purdue who always called his own plays, and a trifecta of talent in the form of Larry Csonka, Jim Kiick, and Mercury Morris.  Together with their “No-Name Defense,” the Dolphins played in three consecutive Super Bowls, including wins in 1972 and 1973—the former of which capped the only perfect winning season in NFL Football history.

There were many exciting moments along the way.  Griese, though a brilliant football strategist, suffered many injuries, leaving fans wondering what would happen next.  We were all amazed at the team’s bench strength when Earl Morrall—also a Baltimore relic—seamlessly stepped in to fill Griese’s shoes until the first-stringer could scramble in them once again.   And then there was the career-saving move when Griese’s sudden inability to pass was cured by a new pair of glasses. 

The most memorable moment of all, however, was an unfortunate one, when place kicker Garo Yepremian—in a touch of Griese fever himself—attempted to pass a blocked kick.  Despite his efforts to undo a Dolphin shutout, resulting in a touchdown by the opposing Detroit Lions, the Dolphins prevailed to win their first Super Bowl.  I can still remember the sensation of watching that Super Bowl VII game.  During a commercial break, my father turned the volume down on the television. The neighborhood was devoid of sound; there were no cars on the road.

I learned a lot of football in those days—enough now to surprise my son with my latent knowledge when he least expects it.  But back then I remember being boggled by the sport’s counterintuitive quirks.  Despite the name of the game, for example, you cannot use your foot to advance the ball offensively.  Often, a first down will follow the second, third or fourth.   Losing a game of chicken is called “illegal procedure.”  And there is often little distinction between an incomplete pass and “intentional grounding.”

Many of us felt “charmed” to be in Miami during the Dolphin’s reign as the greatest dynasty in professional football history.  Over these many years, I have retained a nostalgic fondness for those Dolphins, but I have also moved on in my life to new places and new sports.   Yet I continue to wonder whether a little of those Dolphin charms have rubbed off on me.

After moving to Boston to attend college and graduate school, I paid little attention to sports until getting married in 1982.  My husband, a huge sports fan from a state with few teams worth bragging about, became enamored of the professional teams in Boston.  During his last year of grad school, one of his patients thanked him with a pair of tickets to a Boston Celtics game.   These tickets would have been nearly impossible to come by, especially on a student budget.  I had never been in a sold out arena before; it was daunting.  In the Boston Garden, the crowds walk to the lower seats down the same hall as the players.  Apparently I walked right by Larry Bird and Kevin McHale and did not even see them, although by report I touched Kevin McHale’s knee.

After that day, the Celtics were unstoppable.  The result was the famous Larry Bird-Magic Johnson championship match-up: the 1984 NBA Championship series between the Celtics and the Lakers.  As the series wore on, a Boston heat wave sustained temperatures around 100 degrees.  My husband graduated in the blistering sun on a Thursday, and then on Friday, Game 5 broke the record for the hottest NBA game ever played—few people realizing until then that the Boston Garden had no air conditioning.  On the series travel days, we busied ourselves packing for our imminent move to San Francisco.  All tied after a game in Los Angeles, the Celtics brought the series back to Boston for Game 7.  Though Larry Bird had been the anchor of that Celtics team, I remember his generosity during that game in particular, reverting to “team player” while Cedric Maxwell claimed the leading scorer title for the game.

Sealing that Celtics NBA title was our last act in Boston.  Early the next morning, we got in our car and headed west, stopping to shed a tear as we finally lost our favorite Boston radio station somewhere on the Mass Pike.  But we adapted well to life in San Francisco.  In our first year, Bill Walsh’s San Francisco 49ers, led by the incredible Joe Montana, stole Dan Marino’s record-setting year by beating the Dolphins (these are THE Dolphins, not MY Dolphins) in Super Bowl XIX—a 38-16 stunner.  After a players’ strike and a Montana injury, the 49ers regrouped with Jerry Rice to win back-to-back Super Bowls in 1988 and 1989.  Also in 1989, the San Francisco Giants and the Oakland As—our two home baseball teams—faced off in the famous “Earthquake World Series”.    

My husband and I began to wonder about the coincidence of these cities’ and their sports teams’ good fortune as we graced them with our presence.  With this thought in the backs of our minds, we relocated to Atlanta late in 1990, around the same time Bobby Cox returned to the dugout as manager of the Atlanta Braves.  The following season, we rode with the Braves from “worst to first,” eventually succumbing to the Twins in a championship heartbreaker.  The next year,  however, the Braves’ dominance continued with another World Series appearance.  They finally went all the way in 1995 to prevail over the Cleveland Indians for the team’s first and only World Series win as an Atlanta franchise.

Unfortunately for the Braves, our family returned to Boston late in 1998.  Since this time, the Red Sox “reversed the curse,” winning not one, but two World Series victories (2004 and 2007) after an eighty-six year drought.  The Celtics, in 2008, won their first NBA title since the Larry Bird era.  Last year, the Bruins defeated Vancouver to win their first Stanley Cup in thirty years.  The New England Patriots have claimed three Super Bowls in four appearances.

Even more interesting is the charmed rise to the top of the college ranks by the University of Oregon Ducks during our son’s tenure there as a student.  Coincidence?  I think not.

This Sunday, the New England Patriots will face off in the Super Bowl yet again.  If they win, I think they will be knocking on our door to offer us lifetime season’s tickets.

Tomorrow's blog:  A Tale of Four Steinways