This Season Came Down to a Miss-and-Hit Finish

They dug in and said: “Please.” Pawed the dirt. Clenched their fists. Crossed their fingers. Took their stances. Fanned out in formation, brothers in black, Lionel Washington, Eddie Anderson, Winston Moss, Howie Long, Joe Kelly, Anthony Smith, Todd Peat, Nolan Harrison, Aaron Wallace, Aundray Bruce and Derrick Hoskins, side by side, 11 angry men. “Please,” they said to themselves, don’t let our season be over.

Snap went the ball, smack went the kick and whoomp , there it wasn’t. Eleven large Raiders disentangled from their men, whirled around and saw what they had prayed to see, a football kicked by Denver’s Jason Elam floating to the wrong side of a Coliseum goal post. Dropping to his knees, Washington pounded the ground with his fists, his way of giving thanks. Moss punched the air. Harrison puffed up his chest and expanded his arms. Their season was alive.

Back stormed the Raiders, determined to win this thing now, determined not to let that damn John Elway or that damn Shannon Sharpe or any other damn Denver Bronco touch the football for at least another week. Onto the field jogged Jeff Hostetler, to transfer the ball to Denver’s end of the field. Then onto the field jogged Jeff Jaeger, the kicker, and Jeff Gossett, his holder, to kick the ball right through the other goal posts and right into the AFC playoffs. And . . . whoomp , there it was, the lifesaver for Los Angeles, the super-saver, Jeff-propelled.

What began as the 500th game in the league history of the Raiders ended as one of their scariest and merriest, a truly cool, old-fashioned, American Football League kind of wild and crazy sucker, complete with 63 points, six touchdown passes, 671 passing yards, overtime, everything but Garo Yepremian or Franco Harris. Even the house was full, offering that rarest of rare sights, a Raider quarterback actually begging the crowd for quiet. Happy New Year, baby.

Al Davis, astoundingly calm, descended from his crow’s nest afterward with a: “Magnificent effort by the guys. I knew we’d score.” Which was a sight more than we knew, Al, babe, and more than 66,904 customers knew, more than a whole corral of Broncos knew and even more than most of his own employees knew, including even a hopeful romantic such as Jaeger, who chuckled and said he never had a doubt, ho, ho, ho.

He nailed it, Jaeger did, L.A.’s most consistent athlete, perhaps, pointing his foot toward its target accurately and hiding his acute anxiety beautifully.

“I was telling my wife, I’ve been on edge all week,” Jaeger said.

He wasn’t the only one. Everybody in the stadium knew what was riding on this game, although only the ones with diplomas in quantum physics were able to compute the exact permutations that would put the Raiders in the playoffs. If the Dolphins lose by more than 27.9 points while the Steelers lose or tie or get lost on their way to the stadium while the Jets spin around three times and pin the tail on the donkey, then the Raiders qualify for the playoffs. Something like that.

Winning solved everything. And every man had a hand. If ever the Raiders gathered together as a unit and made a stand, this was the day. For they had more than their three Jeffs, far more. With the outcome of the overtime and the season on the line, there was Ethan Horton, struggling for an extra yard, refusing to go down, and there was Hoskins, taking no chances when a football finally got by Denver’s Sharpe, giving him a whack just to be sure, and there was Gerald Perry, practically in a sumo deathlock with his man along the line of scrimmage, grappling over every inch of turf.

These are the scenes the players will be seeing this week in camp, where they will be preparing for Raiders-Broncos, Part II, rather than packing their belongings into cardboard boxes. Wait until the guys get another look at Alexander Wright waiting, waiting, waiting and finally springing to catch Hostetler’s pass with no time--none--zero-- nada --remaining in the season. What a touchdown this was, and what a toss by Hoss. “The highlight of my life,” Wright said.

Another highlight they will enjoy will be that of Tim Brown, flapping his wings before the snap as though to get loose, putting a move on Tyrone Braxton that left him three steps behind, extending his arms in the end zone and snatching the ball high above his head, six points. He is the go-to guy teams need in football as much as they do in basketball, Tim Brown is. For a while there it was Hostetler-Brown versus Elway-Sharpe in a contest of Anything You Can Do, We Can Do Better.

And then there was the jerry-built backfield of Napoleon McCallum, that old salty dog, scraping off the barnacles and working hard for every yard, alongside Tyrone Montgomery, pushing himself and pushing forward for every precious inch, making runs that would have made his big brother Wilbert proud. It was this kind of effort, from unexpected sources, that even took the Broncos aback, as defensive back Dennis Smith had to concede when he said: “They just never gave up. They kept fighting. I never believed we could give it up like that, that they could score 33 points on us. Never.”

They fought with words, Washington, Hostetler and others beseeching back judge Jim Poole to reconsider his decision to call a Raider receiver out of bounds. They fought with actions, Anderson saying after a hard day in the secondary, “We busted it out there today. I don’t know what more we could have given and I don’t know how much more we had left.”

And they fought the NFL way--with their feet. In this, the year of the field goal, Jaeger and his holder were so self-assured that on an earlier kick, Gossett gave Jaeger five before either of them looked to see where the football had gone. This is why Art Shell made reference to Jaeger as “the most determined individual I have ever been around,” although, fact is, the coach could have said that Sunday about 45 or 50 individuals by his side.

Jaeger dashed from the field, hoisting his helmet triumphantly toward the crowd. After saying please, this was the best way a Raider knew to say thank you. It was a way of saying thanks for coming, and hey, let’s all do this again, real soon.