THE PASS : Irish Were 93 Seconds From the National Title in 1964 When USC Pulled the Plug

The 15-yard touchdown pass that USC quarterback Craig Fertig threw to Rod Sherman to beat Notre Dame, 20-17, in 1964 will live forever, which is more than you can say for the people who saw it. One guy didn’t even live to see the extra point.

In USC lore it is the Pass, and it was a killer. When Sherman streaked into the Coliseum’s west end zone on that fourth-down miracle, one man in the stands had a heart attack, apparently died on the spot, was carried outside cold as a mackerel, then was brought back to life by emergency medical personnel.

Twenty years later, Sherman was at a wedding reception when two elderly gentlemen approached. One said to him, “You know, you were responsible for my brother’s death.”

As a conversational ice-breaker, that line is effective.

The man explained that his brother, the man standing next to him at that moment, collapsed and died in the excitement of the unbelievable play, then was revived.

Keeling over, dead, in the stands may have been a slight overreaction to the touchdown, but not by much. A lot of Trojan fans died and went to heaven at that precise moment, and a lot of Notre Dame fans are still dying.

Return with us now, nostalgia wallowers, to that fateful Saturday afternoon, Nov. 28, 1964.

The Irish are in town, finally. First-year Coach Ara Parseghian has brought his boys out West by train, just as Knute Rockne did back in the ‘20s. The Irish train stopped each day--Des Moines, Oklahoma City, Phoenix--to let the lads stretch their legs and work out, and the progress of the Irish Flyer had been carefully monitored by the Trojans.

Not that the game needs any more tension or build-up. The Irish are 9-0 and ranked No. 1 in the nation. They have Heisman-winner-to-be John Huarte at quarterback, Jack Snow at wide receiver, Alan Page leading the pass rush--monsters like that. John McKay’s Trojans, a nice enough team featuring its own future Heisman winner, tailback Mike Garrett, are 6-3 and hoping to squeeze into the Rose Bowl.

Notre Dame leads, 17-0, at the half, and Parseghian writes on the locker room chalkboard, “Just 30 minutes more.”

But the Trojans score 2 touchdowns, the second on a Fertig-to-Sherman pass--conversion kick missed--and trail, 17-13.

Now to the moment of truth. With less than 2 minutes left in the game, USC has third-and-8 at the Irish 15-yard line.

Roll the memories . . .

Sherman says: “Part of our game plan, because of people like Alan Page and (linebacker) Pete Duranko, was to afford Craig Fertig maximum protection, so we went with two fullbacks, plus Mike Garrett, so I spent a good number of plays on the sidelines.

“I was standing next to Coach McKay, I saw the third-down play was unsuccessful, and for some reason I had no hesitation suggesting 84 Z Delay.”

By wild coincidence, 84 Z Delay is a pass to flanker Rod Sherman.

“I’m sure it was a little bit of sophomore enthusiasm,” says Sherman, who transferred from UCLA after his freshman season.

“One thing has been consistent in my career, my confidence has always exceeded my ability. I was extremely confident, even as a sophomore. I guess some people shy away from those (pressure) situations, some are attracted to them. I am attracted to them.

“Obviously, it was time for a play to come in from the sidelines. There seemed to be a moment of silence, or a moment where thought was being given as to what to call. I’d had a pretty good day. I had gone to USC as a quarterback, so I felt I knew what the game plan was all about. I had no hesitation suggesting 84 Z Delay.

“(McKay) took a second, looked me in the eye to make sure they weren’t rolled back or crossed or something, and said, ‘Hey, go do it.’ ”

Sherman jogs to the huddle and gives Fertig the play.

“Coach says to run Haw 84 Z Delay,” Sherman tells his quarterback.

Haw is a teamster’s command for a left turn, gee being a right turn. Garrett is to go in motion left, away from Sherman, who is flanked on the wide side of the field.

Now, it may seem as if McKay is flying by the seat of his pants on this one, and he is. That’s the way he coaches.

Early in the week, he gathered the players and told them of Notre Dame’s ferocious pass rush. He said the Trojans would try a play using nine guys to block for Fertig while the flanker has the option of running an out, a post or a corner pattern.

“What will we call this play?” a player asked.

“Notre Dame pass,” McKay said.

The Trojans use the play a dozen times this Saturday.

Earlier in the game, McKay sent in a play Fertig never heard of, so Fertig figured it out and diagrammed it in the huddle by drawing in the grass with his finger.

The point is, McKay has supreme confidence in his players to execute new stuff and to offer advice.

Back to live action . . .

“Notre Dame was in a man-to-man defense,” Fertig says. “When the tailback leaves (goes in motion), the linebacker leaves, too. Then the strong safety jumped on Garrett, too, leaving Tony Carey to guard Rod Sherman on three-fourths of the field. I could see that the two inside linebackers were going to try to come after us, an all-out blitz.

“I thought, ‘God, (Sherman’s) gotta be there (open).’ ”

It’s redhead on redhead, two former high school quarterbacks, the Chicago cornerback guarding the Pasadena flanker, winner take all, all the marbles and all the cliches on the line.

The pattern is schoolyard-simple: Delay a count, run 3 steps, cut across the middle, a quick post pattern. Page 1 in every forward-passing manual.

“That was a goofy play,” says Carey, Notre Dame’s Ralph Branca that afternoon. “There was almost like a false start. We lost a couple steps getting to the quarterback. There was a moment of hesitation. Sherman or the tight end took a step, then got back (and) our line kind of froze. I didn’t realize it at the time, but going back and looking at the film, you realize why you kinda weren’t ready.”

“It sure didn’t freeze Page ,” Fertig says.

“A couple plays before,” Carey continues, “(Fertig) tried to throw outside on me. You could say he set us up by going to the outside, except that our philosophy was we always took away the inside on wide receivers, we never let anyone come inside on us.”

Well, maybe once. USC runs the play and it looks so basic. Fertig throws immediately, even before Sherman is looking back, and Fertig is immediately poleaxed by Page. Sherman, a stride inside Carey, catches the ball at the 3 and slants into the end zone.

“Sherman made a great catch and run,” Fertig said in the locker room.

“It was an easy catch,” Sherman said. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to throw the ball.”

Twenty-four years later, Sherman and Fertig still argue about whether it was a great pass or a great catch, though they have traded debating positions.

“I hit him between the 1 and the 2,” Fertig laughs, referring to Sherman’s jersey No. 12.

Newspaper photos the next day show Carey, in his No. 1 jersey, sprawled across the Coliseum lawn, the very picture of athletic frustration, Sherman fading into the sunset.

“We were at the closed (west) end of the Coliseum,” Sherman says. “I’ve never heard such spontaneous noise, such an uproar, before or since. It was truly deafening and almost disorienting.”

In lore and legend, the gun goes off at this moment. In reality, 1 minute 33 seconds remain and Notre Dame rallies briefly before losing.

The Trojans sprint to their locker room and celebrate, singing and screaming.

Carey says: “I remember being in our locker room and hearing Southern Cal singing ‘Amen.’ You could hear them through the walls. To be honest with you, that didn’t help them for the next year (a 28-7 Irish win at South Bend).”

The Trojans don’t have to wait a year to get deflated, though. An hour after the game, they get word that Oregon State has been voted into the Rose Bowl.

Postscripts . . .

Tony Carey is a successful attorney in Chicago, specializing in business and corporate law.

“After the game, I remember all the people in Chicago being mad at me. They all lost money on the game. It did help my legal career, though.

“One of my first cases was a real bad battery case. I’m defending a poor guy on the West Side whose girlfriend claimed he took a tile knife to her . . .

“It was actually a wrestling match and she fell on a picket fence, an accident. I’m trying to befriend the judge, but she just didn’t believe the guy’s story. A cop at the trial told me, ‘Your guy’s going away.’

“Then he said, ‘You know, your name’s familiar. I know why--I lost 10 bucks on you.’ We got to talking and he said, ‘Let me see if I can put in a word for you.’ I don’t know who he talked to, but my guy got probation.

“It’s funny, I do business with an L.A. attorney and Rod (Sherman) is a good friend of his. We send each other messages through my friend.

“Am I haunted by that play? Nahhh. Being involved with sports--I play handball and my kids play sports--you win some, you lose some. It’s an awful cliche, but that’s the way I was brought up. My kids now, one thing I try to mention is, ‘Hey, you go down, you get up.’

“I started boxing in the second grade, and I learned that just when you think you’re a hot shot, you get punched in the nose. . . . I had another year of eligibility at Notre Dame. That meant a lot to me. It was tougher for the seniors.

“I’ve turned it around. Whenever someone mentions the money they lost on that game, I reach into my pocket, ask ‘em how much they lost. They don’t know if I’m kidding or not, it puts ‘em on the defensive. It didn’t hurt me (in the long run), I’ll tell you that. It’s a matter of attitude.

“Listen, if you talk to Sherman, ask him who knocked him out of the ’65 game. He got hit in the thigh, a good, clean shot, knocked him out of the game for a few plays. I got a sport coat from Johnny Ray, our defensive coach, for that one.”

Sherman played pro football for 7 years--Raiders, Cincinnati Bengals, Denver Broncos, Rams. Today he heads his own sports marketing firm, MSM (Management and Sports Marketing).

Sherman says he doesn’t recall the 1965 incident Carey mentioned. Memory is a selective beast.

Sherman also says he never replays film of that 1964 game, that what he treasures most about his college football career are the friends he made, including several Notre Dame players.

“Hardly a month goes by, sometimes hardly a day goes by, without someone telling me exactly where he or she was, and exactly what he or she was doing, at the exact moment I caught that touchdown pass. One man just told me, ‘I was cutting down a tree in my yard.’

“I don’t care about watching it again. I’d just as soon sit down and talk to those guys. I’d like to have a cold beer with Tony Carey sometime.”

Craig Fertig is the associate athletic director at UC Irvine.

“I remember that by the time all the celebrating was over, I went over to the Notre Dame locker room. It was cleared out except for one player. Huarte was back in the shower. I stood there and talked to him for a long time, commiserating.

“I don’t think I realized what our team had done until I got home that night. There were telegrams from all over the country. During the next couple weeks, I got news clips from all over the world.

“Someone made a highlight film of that game for Rod and I. I throw it on every once in a while, to let my son and daughter know I played football. How often do I watch it? Maybe 5 times a year.”

When did Fertig watch that game most recently?

“Last night,” he says.

At the 10-year anniversary of the ’64 game, the principal characters were gathered to tape a great-moments-type TV show.

“Here it had been 10 years, and Parseghian was still upset,” Sherman says sympathetically. “It was hard for him to even talk about it.”

In 1965, the Trojans went to South Bend. Fertig had graduated and was a USC assistant coach. One of his duties was to coach the kickers, so about 2 hours before the game he went out into the stadium to check the wind.

“Ara was out there, standing on the sidelines all by himself,” Fertig says. “I walked up to him and introduced myself. He looked at me and said, ‘I know who you are, you son of a bitch.’ ”