Wrong-Way Rams Go Awry at Worst Time

“Second and goal at the two? Damn,” Jackie Slater muttered as he tugged at a final piece of ankle tape.

“You hear that, Jones?”

“Wha’ happened?” Clarence Jones said, snapping to attention in front of his locker as if he’d been roused from a deep sleep.

“We had second and goal from the two,” Slater repeated, shaking his head.

And, briefly, technically, it was.

It was also second and goal from the 12, after Wayne Gandy was called for holding, and second and goal from the 17 after Slater was flagged for a false start.

As for a false finish, the Rams were working on that too. Completing their soon-to-be-published primer, “How Not To Conduct Oneself When Inside The Red Zone,” the Rams took their shot from the 17, had Chris Miller throw a pass one way, had Flipper Anderson break the other and watched Green Bay cornerback Lenny McGill all but fair catch the ball in the back left corner of the end zone with 47 seconds to play.

Of all the scintillating comebacks and thrilling goal-line climaxes Lambeau Field has witnessed throughout its illustrious history, this wasn’t one of them.

Remember Bart Starr sneaking into the end zone behind the block of Jerry Kramer?

Well, now the hearty sons and daughters of Green Bay will also remember Jerome Bettis sweeping left behind the jersey-grab of Wayne Gandy . . . and Chris Miller dropping to pass behind the offside jump of Jackie Slater . . . and Flipper Anderson improvising a curl route behind the fade pattern Miller threw to Lenny McGill.

Years from now, they will tell their children, and their children will tell their children, and hearts will warm anew at the recollection of a great Packer victory.

This one was 24-17 after the Packers trailed, 17-3. That’s 21 unanswered points for those scoring at home. Not only did the Rams fall on their faces attempting to rally in the final minute, they also fell on their fannies attempting to sit on a two-touchdown lead in the second half.

For the Rams, it was an equal-opportunity disaster, with the usually reliable kick-coverage unit breaking down at the worst possible moment (game-tying, 85-yard punt return by Robert Brooks); the always reliable Sean Landeta breaking down at the worst possible moment (13-yard shanked punt, setting up game-winning touchdown); and the never reliable offense breaking down all over the field in the second half, unable to produce a first down for five possessions and 22 minutes.

But all transgressions would have been forgiven and forgotten had the Rams been able to handle second and goal at the Green Bay two better than a snowmobile locked in reverse.

The going was dubious from the start, from the first play sent in from the sideline: Pitch back to Bettis and sweep left, a play that hadn’t done much more than leave divots all afternoon.

Jones, the Rams’ left offensive tackle, said the Packers “were waiting for the pitch. They knew it was coming. They were yelling, ‘Pitch! Pitch!’ as we’re walking up to the line.”

But, hey, it worked here with Jim Taylor, right? Must be the thing to do.

The Packers buried Bettis behind the line of scrimmage. However, away from the ball, Gandy, the rookie right tackle, was holding Packer middle linebacker Fred Strickland, even if he denied it to the bitter end.

“He tripped over me and we both fell on our backs,” Gandy said. “I didn’t even know who it was called on until I got to the sideline. I argued about it--the guy fell over me.

“But, it was too late.”

Slater replaced Gandy and soon it was Packer colors--yellow on green, penalty flag on the grass--once again.

“My mistake,” Slater conceded. “I was dealing with one of the premier defensive ends in the game (Reggie White) and he was bringing it. I made some mistakes.

“We had a play going there, but my timing was off a little.”

Two penalties, 15 yards, second and goal again, now from the 17.

In the huddle, Miller called the play. “A ‘9,’ ” Miller said. “Four receivers, four ‘9s’, four ‘gos.’ ”

Anderson went and ran a figure-8, or whatever, instead.

“I called one route,” Miller said, “and we got something else.”

Not that Miller wanted to point any fingers.

“I don’t want to point any fingers at him,” Miller said. “I’ll just say it was miscommunication. . . . It was just a lack of execution, and it killed us.”

Anderson, cornered at his locker stall, quietly pleaded no contest.

“I was supposed to run a deep route,” Anderson explained, “but their cornerback was fading back there. I misread it. In the heat of the moment, those things happen.”

Troy Drayton, the tight end who scored two touchdowns for the Rams Sunday but was sitting this play out, said, “the wide receiver has an option to ad-lib there. If he sees the defense in a different coverage, he can change his route, to take the option that gives us the best advantage. But the quarterback and the wide receiver have to be on the same page.”

In this case, Miller and Anderson weren’t in the same bookstore.

“In this case,” Drayton said, “it was fatal for us.”

Suffice it to say, Lombardi never played it this way. His teams tended to move toward the goal line, not away from it, and pandemonium in the end zone was something that happened after the game, not during it. But football was simpler then.