January 30, 2000: One yard short

ATLANTA - Imagine being that close. Everything you've played for in your career, all the work you put in that season, all about to pay off in the ultimate way. You have the ball, you see the end zone, you stretch out the ball, and ... nothing.

To many fans, Kevin Dyson is eternally stretching, reaching, straining. His image has been shown countless times, the ultimate picture of heartbreak. Dyson should be most famous for being on the receiving end of the Music City Miracle, but somehow his name often gets forgotten when that play comes up. But nobody forgets that Kevin Dyson was the man who was tackled one yard short of the end zone on the last play of the Super Bowl.

Of course, it wasn't Dyson's fault. After all, it was Rams linebacker Mike Jones who brought him down by the ankles, making the single greatest tackle in NFL history. Jones rightfully receives all the credit for saving the Super Bowl for the Rams. But all the images of the play show Dyson, stretching the ball out in vain. All you see of Jones is his helmet, maybe his arms. You see all of Dyson, all of his heartbreak.

Jones' tackle of Dyson overshadowed what had been a brilliant final drive by the Titans. After scoring 16 straight points to tie Super Bowl XXXIV, Tennessee watched St. Louis take the lead right back in only one play, as Kurt Warner found Isaac Bruce for a 73-yard touchdown with just under 2:00 to play. From there, Steve McNair took over, leading one of the greatest drives in Super Bowl history. Continually ducking out of sacks and scrambling away from pressure, McNair willed the Titans downfield with his arm and his legs. The defining moment came on the Titans' second-to-last play of the drive, when McNair scrambled both directions in the pocked, ducked out of two sacks, then found Dyson for a first down at the 10 yard line.

The Titans had time for one more play. McNair took the snap from the shotgun, dropped back, then hit Dyson on a slant pattern. Dyson was open and made the catch with only Jones to beat. Jones won.

One yard short.

(Game highlights, including the final play, are here, since NFL.com doesn't allow embedding apparently)

January 8, 2000: Music City Miracle

NASHVILLE - You practice and practice a play, all season long. Desipte the grumbles of "this will never work" or "we'll never need to run this play anyway," you keep doing it. Every week, the same play, the one you secretly hope you never have to run, but the one you want to be prepared for if you do.

Then the situation comes up. Trailing 16-15 with 16 seconds left in the game, about to receive the kickoff, you make the call. "Home Run Throwback." It's the moment you had been preparing for all season, the play you had hoped you'd never have to run.

The kick comes short, avoiding the speedy returners in the back. Just as expected. The fullback catches the kick - that's not right. It's supposed to be the tight end. He's supposed to be the key player in this play. But the fullback knows this, so he finds the tight end, hands it off to him before going upfield to block. It's an odd sight - a fullback handing off to a tight end on a kickoff return. But the defense doesn't think anything's amiss. They're following the ball.

The tight end plants his right foot, stops and spins, and throws back across the field. The receiver is there and ... well, here's where a bit of luck had to come in. All season long, you had been practicing this play with Mason, had run it to perfection with Mason. But Mason was hurt. Kevin Dyson got thrown in at the last minute. He didn't really understand the play as drawn up, which is why he had advanced a bit downfield when Wychek threw that ball back across the field. But Dyson was paying attention. He stepped back, caught the ball at his shoetops, and was gone.

When he catches it, he's got the sideline, plus a convoy of blockers out in front of him. Nobody from Buffalo has any chance at him. The play was only designed to advance into field goal range, set up a game-winning field goal, but it's going to do much more than that. Dyson, escorted by two teammates, runs toward the end zone. Nobody from the Bills touches him.

Touchdown. Bedlam. Miracle.

And now the replay review. That pass, the ball thrown across the field, was so painfully close. Was it forward? Backward? You look at the replay, and it, improbably, seems to be straight across the field, maybe just slightly backward. Just slightly. Still, though. It's painful to wait for the call. It could go either way.

The official comes out. Arms in the air.

Touchdown. Bedlam in Tennesse. Dispair for Buffalo.

The Music City Miracle is born.