SUPER BOWL XXVIII / BUFFALO BILLS vs. DALLAS COWBOYS : There’s No Letting Go : Cowboy Lineman Isn’t Allowed to Forget Two Infamous Plays

Don Beebe, Buffalo Bills

Dear Don:

My son was out of control. I couldn’t talk to him. I couldn’t relate to him. Then, I used your play in the Super Bowl to show him what it took to play sports, how not to quit. Since then, I can talk to him again.

Thank you,

A Fan

Leon Lett, Dallas Cowboys

Leon:

That’s what Jimmy Johnson gets for drafting (racial epithet) like you.

Unsigned

Two letters, one sweet and one bitter.

Two players, one a hero, the other a goat.

Beebe and Lett, forever linked in Super Bowl lore.

But what unites them also divides them.

A bizarre play during last year’s Super Bowl in Pasadena turned Beebe into a source of inspiration and hope, and Lett into a target for racists and hatemongers.

On Sunday, they will be facing each other once again in Super Bowl XXVIII after having lived through 12 months at opposite ends of the emotional spectrum.

THE PLAY

Super Sunday XXVII had been a miserable day for Beebe. He had scored on a 40-yard pass play from quarterback Frank Reich, but that hadn’t done much to ease the hurt for Beebe, a wide receiver who was completing his fourth year with the Bills with his third consecutive Super Bowl loss. It was a game Dallas would win, 52-17.

Late in the fourth quarter, Buffalo committed one of its nine turnovers. Reich, who was playing in place of injured Jim Kelly, fumbled the ball away.

Up stepped Lett, a 6-foot-6, 292-pound second-year defensive lineman from Emporia State in Kansas. He scooped up the ball and saw a 65-yard path to the end zone straight ahead.

Five yards from the goal line, however, Lett let his emotions get the best of him and began celebrating, holding the ball out in his right hand.

What he didn’t realize was that he wasn’t alone.

Although the game was lost, Beebe wasn’t about to lose one last opportunity to foil the Cowboys. He had put his head down after seeing the fumble and gone after Lett without much genuine hope of catching the lineman.

But Lett’s premature celebration enabled Beebe to catch Lett and swat the ball loose, knocking it out of the end zone for a touchback.

It didn’t change anything. It was merely a small Buffalo victory in a big loss. And Lett still got credit for the longest return of a fumble in Super Bowl history--64 yards.

He also sacked Reich on the last play of the game.

No matter. There is only one thing fans remember about Lett’s performance that day.

And it isn’t good.

THE AFTERMATH

In the locker rooms afterward, neither Beebe nor Lett lingered over the play.

“When I was running down the sideline, I was not thinking about the letters I would get or how people would react,” Beebe said. “I was just doing what I was brought up to do, and that’s not quit. I didn’t think anything of it. All I know is, I saw a fumble and I knew my job was to tackle the guy.”

But Beebe realized he had done something special when Bill owner Ralph Wilson came up and put his arm around the receiver.

“You really showed me something, son,” Wilson said.

“He didn’t call me Don or No. 82,” Beebe recalled. “That meant a lot to me, and it is something I’ll never forget. What he said popped my eyes open. Maybe what I did was something.”

The Cowboys, in the euphoria of their Super Bowl victory, didn’t have an inkling of how harsh public reaction to Lett would be.

So they kidded him.

“When anybody talks about Super Bowl boo-boos, Leon will be the guinea pig,” Dallas receiver Michael Irvin said.

Added guard Nate Newton: “I’m going to put 50 footballs on Leon’s seat on the plane. I’ll tell him, ‘Here Leon, hang onto these.’ ”

As time went by, though, Lett stopped laughing. The hate mail started coming in.

Someone even sent Lett a spoiled hot dog, telling him that was what he had been on the field.

“I know there are a lot of people out there who are going to take a shot at somebody,” Lett said. “No matter what, it doesn’t matter. I just try to look past it.”

Back home in Sugar Grove, Ill., Beebe was also getting letters, hundreds of them. But their tone was vastly different.

“We got our butts whipped and I just wanted to get back home,” Beebe said. “(The mail) was something I really did not expect. (The letters) were from coaches, teachers and mostly just fathers. Most of them didn’t want anything. They just wanted to say thank you for the message they said I got across in that play, that no matter what the odds, no matter what the score, no matter if it’s only football, you never quit.”

Beebe and Lett met during the off-season for a story arranged by a national magazine.

“I got to know the guy,” Beebe said. “He’s a tremendous guy. I know he got hate mail and racial stuff and it’s sad to see that side of football.

“I tried to put myself in his uniform. You’re a defensive linemen, you get the ball and you know you’re going to score. So maybe you put the ball out there to celebrate. He was not rubbing it into the Buffalo Bills’ faces.”

THE PLAY II

On Thanksgiving Day, 1993, the Cowboys were playing the Miami Dolphins at Texas Stadium, where sleet and ice had turned a game into a winter nightmare.

With 15 seconds to play, Dallas had a 14-13 lead, but Pete Stoyanovich was in position to kick a 41-yard field goal.

The kick was blocked by Jimmie Jones.

Cowboys win?

Not quite.

If the ball had rolled dead, the Cowboys would have won. But with his teammates waving warnings to stay away from the ball, Lett tried to pick it up.

Instead, it went off his foot, the Dolphins recovered and Stoyanovich got another try.

This time, he made the kick and Miami won, 16-14.

Said Lett: “I was just reacting.”

Did Beebe give him a call?

“The last person he wanted to hear from was me,” Beebe said.

THE AFTERMATH II

It was Tuesday at the Georgia Dome, with reporters there from around the world for Super Bowl XXVIII.

And one of their prime stories was Lett’s.

His teammates talked of him in glowing terms.

“I hope he comes out and has the best damn game of his life and becomes MVP,” defensive lineman Tony Tolbert said. “He’s had some big games, but all people want to talk about is that one play, one play, one play.”

Said lineman Jim Jeffcoat of Lett: “He’s one of the friendliest, most easygoing guys. I don’t think the guy has an enemy in the world. He’s a heck of an athlete. But when you try to make big plays, sometimes things happen. People are just ignorant.”

Meanwhile, a media crowd had formed around Lett, who was seated on the Georgia Dome field.

The first question was about the Beebe play. And the next. And the next.

As the crowd grew, so did Lett’s obvious discomfort. He got up and moved. The crowd followed.

Sweat began streaming down his face. But nobody backed off. It was Super Bowl overkill at its worst.

Finally, Lett had had enough.

“People need to leave me alone,” he said over his shoulder as he bolted from the center of the crowd and headed for the locker room.

He later returned, though, and the questions started anew.

Will they ever end?