Brutal Is the Word at Quarterback

They are something to watch, these long balls launched into the blue sky, chasing history as they soar, each one carrying with it the potential of sporting immortality.

After awhile, you just sit there in numb amazement, working up a grudging admiration for an act as brazen, as in-your-face defiant as this. He is simply relentless, you say to yourself. He refuses to quit--he barely even pauses. He is going for the record, flat out, and he does not care what you or I or anyone has to say about it.

And then the late-night highlight show finishes its report about Ty Detmer’s seven interceptions against the Cleveland Browns and heads to commercial.

In San Diego Sunday, while continuing to pursue another record of some sort, Barry Bonds sat down with Tony Gwynn for some advice and technical consultation. Great feats require this kind of planning and communication. In Cleveland, where ex-Brown Detmer had just thrown his fifth pass into the arms of a former teammate, his new coach, Marty Mornhinweg, walked over to Detmer and asked, “Do you want to keep playing?”

Of course, Detmer said he did. History isn’t made by the weak of heart. Jim Hardy’s 51-year-old record of eight interceptions in one game was still out there, so Detmer stayed in at quarterback for the Detroit Lions and kept going deep.

He got No. 6 in the fourth quarter, finding Corey Fuller open at the Detroit 27.

He thought he had No. 7 a few minutes later, only to have the play nullified by a penalty.

Undaunted, Detmer kept firing. Four plays later, he got No. 7. A roar went up from the Dawg Pound, sensing the record was at hand. But the clock was doing Detmer no favors. He needed a quick three-and-out from the Browns, but the Lion defense buckled in the clutch.

Five plays later, Cleveland still had the ball, running out the clock on a 24-14 victory before Detmer could get another try.

And that was it.

Detmer didn’t fail, he just ran out of time.

Recording the moment for the benefit of future generations, the Detroit Free Press noted: “Sunday certainly was a performance worthy of Cleveland Brown Stadium’s [Dawg] Pound. As in barf.”

Detmer rolled seven on a day when quarterbacks around the NFL set pro football back a decade and a half.

Detmer’s wild ride was the NFL’s first seven-interception performance since Steve DeBerg pulled the trick for Tampa Bay in 1986.

In Chicago, Minnesota’s Daunte Culpepper could manage no more than a single touchdown as the Vikings lost to the Bears, 17-10, dropping the Vikings to 0-2 for the first time since 1984.

In Seattle, Matt Hasselbeck completed nine passes for 62 yards in a 27-3 loss to the Philadelphia Eagles, resurrecting long-forgotten memories of Kelly Stouffer circa 1988.

In Atlanta, it was 1987 all over again, sort of, as a big-name rookie (Chris Miller then, Michael Vick now) continued to chisel away at the job security of the veteran journeyman starter (Scott Campbell then, Chris Chandler now). Chandler and Vick both played during the Falcons’ 24-16 victory over Carolina, prompting Falcon fans to wax nostalgic as only they can--some of them cheering Chandler as he lay motionless on the turf after taking a brutal third-quarter hit, hopeful that the old man might be injured so that Vick might get more snaps.

And in Miami, Jay Fiedler rallied the Dolphins to an 18-15 victory over the Oakland Raiders, engineering a last-minute, 80-yard touchdown drive that reminded some veteran players of--get ready--Dan Marino, engineer of the Dolphins’ last drive to the Super Bowl in 1984.

“He had a little bit of that ‘Marino’ in him,” Miami guard Mark Dixon tried to convince reporters. “A little bit of that ‘Here we come, we’re going down the field, just stay with me and we’ll be all right.’ I hadn’t felt that since Dan was here, but I did feel a little of it today.”

Shocking stuff, no doubt. But as you ready some mood music for the stereo, rifling through dusty stacks of wax for that old Kajagoogoo, let me drop this one on you:

This Sunday at Qualcomm Stadium, in a rematch of the 1981 AFC championship game, the undefeated San Diego Chargers will host the undefeated Cincinnati Bengals.

Playing the roles of Dan Fouts and Ken Anderson will be Doug Flutie and Jon Kitna, the league’s two unlikeliest 2-0 quarterbacks in some time. Months ago, Flutie was run out of Buffalo because the Bills wanted to go with Rob Johnson, now 0-2 after a 42-26 loss in Indianapolis. Around the same time, Kitna was run out of Seattle because Seahawk Coach Mike Holmgren considered the benchwarmer in Green Bay, Hasselbeck, to be a substantial position upgrade.

Now, in two starts against former NFC East powers, Flutie is 2-0. Following up the Chargers’ 27-point triumph over Washington on opening day, Flutie passed for 353 yards and two touchdowns at Dallas in a 32-21 victory over the Cowboys.

Kitna’s numbers were more modest, except for the ones staring back, incredibly, on the Paul Brown Stadium scoreboard:

Cincinnati 21, Baltimore 10.

To put it another way:

Professional Football’s Losingest Team Since 1990 by 11 points over the Defending World Champions, The Greatest Defense of All-Time and Elvis Grbac.

The Bengals played this one pretty much the way the Bengals always play them. They missed three field-goal attempts, they managed only 203 yards in total offense, they had too many players on the field three times. Yet they still managed to end the Ravens’ 12-game winning streak, which brings forth two immediate questions:

How on earth did this happen?

And where are HBO’s hidden microphones when you really need them?

Say what you will about the old lug, but this never happened to the Ravens when Trent Dilfer was over there, dropping back and completing tight, crisp handoffs to the tailback.

But then, the Ravens never really appreciated Dilferism as a pure philosophy. Which is: He exists, not to impress or nourish or even throw downfield into single coverage on third and nine, but to save your season and/or your coaching job when the high-priced quarterback you brought in during the off-season makes the unexpected yet deeply personal decision to shun the end zone on Sundays.

This time last year, Dilfer was sitting on the bench behind Tony Banks, quietly biding his time until Banks went 21 quarters without producing an offensive touchdown, at which point Coach Brian Billick broke the emergency glass and waved in Dilfer.

Twelve months later, Dilfer sits in Seattle, quietly biding his time while Hasselbeck extends his own touchdown-less streak to eight quarters. You can sense something familiar stirring in the air in Seattle, along with the “We want Dilfer” chants heard inside Husky Stadium on Sunday.

It has happened before; do not be shocked if it happens again.

Ravens 2000, Seahawks 2001.

Birds of a feather flock to Dilfer.