Editor’s note: The following, about the contest against the Cincinnati Bengals on Dec. 21 at Riverfront Stadium, is the 16th in a series of stories on the games that made up the Browns’ 1980 Kardiac Kids season. This is the 35th anniversary of that memorable year.

 

The Kardiac Kids had a lot of heroes, all of whom came up big at one time or another to help pull out victories.

 

Longtime Browns fans will remember the names.

 

There’s quarterback Brian Sipe, of course.

 

And the running backs duo of Greg and Mike Pruitt.

 

And fellow runner Calvin Hill.

 

And wide receivers Reggie Rucker and Dave Logan.

 

And tight end Ozzie Newsome.

 

And linebackers Clay Matthews and Dick Ambrose.

 

And safety Clarence Scott.

 

And kicker Don Cockroft.

 

And cornerback Ron Bolton.

 

If just one of these players had not stood out when they were needed the most, then the season would not have worked out like it did.

 

But there’s one more hero. And if he had not done what he did, then the efforts of all these others would have been for naught.

 

He made his contribution not just in the biggest moment of a game, but in the biggest contest of the year, and the last one of the year, played 35 years ago today, on Dec. 21, 1980. Moreover, if he hadn’t done it, then perhaps no one else would have, or could have.

 

Indeed, after all of the Kardiac Kids’ lead actors had performed their parts according to the script and the outcome of the play had still not been revealed, it was a bit player who came out of the shadows – out of nowhere, really – to steal the show and become the star, As such, he brought this magical tale, at least the biggest portion of it, to its conclusion in grand style as the curtain came down.

 

And in a strange way, maybe it was appropriate that it was him who took over and wowed everyone. After all, his nickname was “Hollywood Dude” for the flashy way he dressed, not to mention the way he played.

 

With his team trailing by seven points and in desperate need of someone and/or something to jump-start its sputtering offense, wide receiver Ricky Feacher caught a pair of touchdowns from Sipe in a span of about 2½ minutes in the third quarter to lead the Browns to a 27-24 victory over the Cincinnati Bengals to clinch their first AFC Central championship in nine years.

 

The Browns finished the regular season at 11-5, the same record as the Houston Oilers, but won the title on tie-breakers. It was their first playoff appearance in eight years, since making it as a wild card in 1972.

 

That last playoff trip, and the Central crown won the year before, lacked any of the drama of what the Kardiac Kids, and “The Dude,” pulled off.

 

With 12 of their first 15 games that year not being decided until the two minutes, and many not until the final play, the Browns needed all hands at all positions on deck at all times to get by. As such, the lead actors – the starters – played from start to finish. There was little time for backups – bit players, as it were — to see any action.

 

But the rematch with the Bengals was different.

 

A month earlier in Cleveland, the Browns had had their way with them, winning 31-7 in a game that wasn’t even that close. It was one of just three games all year that wasn’t a white-knuckler.

 

The Browns, though, knew that this one would not be that easy – or easy at all. They were primed for it being a … well, white-knuckler, the kind of which they had become very familiar that season.

 

Add to that the fact the Browns and Bengals were arch rivals. Everybody thought – and might still think – that the Browns’ and Bengals’ biggest rivalries were with the division rival Pittsburgh Steelers. Not so.

 

While those rivalries were intense, they were nothing compared to Browns-Bengals or, as it were, Bengals-Browns.

 

Why?

 

Because Art Modell had unceremoniously fired iconic head coach and General Manager Paul Brown, the man for whom the Browns are named, 22 months after he purchased the club in March 1961. To say the two men detested each other would be underestimating that animosity greatly.

 

By 1968, Brown had returned to football by becoming owner and head coach of an AFL expansion team in Cincinnati. The Bengals and Browns were placed into the same division, the AFC Central, when the NFL-AFL merger was finalized in 1970, and the rivalry was on.

 

The Bengals won the first division crown that year, and the Browns unseated them the following season, pumping up the rivalry a little more.

 

In 1975, Modell hired Forrest Gregg as head coach, and then summarily fired him with one game left in the 1977 season – a year after he had been named AFC Coach of the Year. With that, then, their relationship turned icy and remained so.

 

Gregg was hired by Brown to coach the Bengals in 1979, and the rivalry got racheted up again.

 

Now it was 1980, and the Browns, coached by Gregg’s successor, Sam Rutigliano, needed to beat the Bengals – on a brutally cold day in Cincinnati – in order to win the division. Lose and they would likely miss the playoffs altogether.

 

Standing in their way were the Bengals, led by Gregg and, of course, Brown, now supplementing his ownership role with that of general manager. It had been a rough year for the Bengals. They had long been out of the playoff chase, but they had gotten much better since the loss in Cleveland, winning three straight to improve to 6-9. With that, they now had confidence they could beat the Browns, and Brown and Gregg wanted nothing more than to have that happen and deny Modell and his team a chance to go to the playoffs.

 

Pressure for the Browns? You bet. Their backs were to the wall on the road against their ach rival. They had much to gain by winning, and much to lose by not doing so.

 

Conversely, the Bengals had no pressure on them. They were playing with house money and their approach could be loose and easy. No one other than themselves expected them to win, but if they did, there would be the party to end all parties inside of Bengals headquarters that night. It would be an early Christmas present.

 

And the Bengals did indeed come out with no holds barred, gaining a 10-0 second-quarter lead on a 42-yard field goal by Jim Breech and a 13-yard scramble for a touchdown by quarterback Jack Thompson, “The Throwin’ Samoan.”

 

In addition, the Browns lost wide receiver Dave Logan to a knee injury after he had caught one pass, a 65-yarder, the longest of his career. He was having one of his best seasons as a pro. So not having him made the Browns’ challenge just that much greater.

 

Into the game to replace him was Feacher, a virtual unknown who entered the day with just eight catches on the year, two of which were for touchdowns. Trading Logan for Feacher was a bad deal – at least on paper.

 

Not surprisingly, without Logan, the Browns struggled offensively, but they did manage to tie the game 10-10 at halftime on Sipe’s 42-yard touchdown pass to Rucker and Cockroft’s 26-yard field goal.

 

Things did not go well at the start of the third quarter, however, as cornerback Ray Griffin intercepted a Sipe pass and returned it 52 yards for a TD and a 17-10 lead. Griffin, who hailed from Columbus and had played at Ohio State, was the younger brother of Archie Griffin, a former Buckeyes running back and the only two-time Heisman Trophy winner. The two Griffins were playing together in Cincinnati in 1980.

 

As for the Browns, they needed a spark. None of the things they were trying – the things they had tried with great success all season – were working.

 

They needed something and/or something different. It was their only hope.

 

Feacher, though far from being a featured player at that time of his career, was always brimming with confidence. And he was not shy about letting others know it.

 

From the moment he had entered the game in the first half, he had gotten in Sipe’s ear. After nearly every play, he would come back to the huddle and tell the quarterback, “I’m open. Throw me the bomb.”

 

Over and over and over again, Feacher called for the long ball.

 

Finally, Sipe picked up the call.

 

“OK, I’m going to throw you the bomb, but you had better catch it,” he said in no uncertain terms.

 

Feacher showed Sipe a teethy smile, and even more confidence.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll catch it,” he said. “Just throw the ball up there and I’ll run under it.”

 

Sipe did, and Feacher did, catching a 35-yard lob – a bomb – down the sideline for a touchdown with 12:21 left in the third quarter to tie the game 17-17.

 

Then, just 2:38 later, with 9:53 remaining, the Browns ran the same play from the other side of the field and Feacher caught a 34-yard TD pass from Sipe.

 

Just like that, the Browns were energized and in the lead, 24-17, after those two lightning-quick strikes out of nowhere.

 

But still, the game was far from over.

 

With four seconds left in the quarter, the Bengals tied the game at 24-24 with Thompson’s 59-yard TD pass to wide receiver Pat McInally, who earlier on the day had been the recipient of a bone-jarring hit under the chin by safety Thom Darden that invoked an unnecessary roughness penalty.

 

The score stayed that way until Cockroft booted what turned out to the game-winning field goal, a 22-yarder, with 1:25 left to make it 27-24.

 

Even with that, though, the game was not over. The Bengals had one last volley to throw at the Browns, and they did.

 

Taking the ball at their 32 after the ensuing kickoff, and with Ken Anderson now at quarterback, the Bengals, having no timeouts, went to work in hurry-up fashion. His 22-yard pass to wide receiver Steve Kreider on third and seven moved them to the Cleveland 43. Then he went to tight end Dan Ross for nine yards on the next play to the 34.

 

The clock was the Bengals’ enemy, so it almost worked to their advantage when Anderson threw incomplete on the next play, stopping the clock.

 

With little time left, Anderson had to risk throwing to the middle of the field against a Browns’ backed-up pass defense that was protecting the sideline to keep the clock running. The Bengals then had to hope that if they completed the pass, they could run down the field in time to stop the clock and have a shot to kick the game-tying field goal.

 

Anderson did hit the pass in the deep middle – a 20-yarder to Kreider – but the game ended with Bolton, who made the tackle on Kreider, laying on top of him at the 14 to keep him from getting up as Anderson raced toward them while the clock raced as well. He didn’t get there in time, and the clock expired, along with the Bengals’ chances to pull the upset.

 

The Browns danced about on the field, celebrating their victory – yet another one achieved at the very end in typical Kardiac Kids fashion — like schoolboys. They carried Rutigliano off on their shoulders.

 

Mike Pruitt rushed 14 times for 51 yards.

 

Sipe threw for 308 yards and three TDs, hitting 24 of 44 attempts. He was intercepted twice.

 

Rucker caught four passes for 74 yards, and Newsome five for 30 yards, but it was Feacher, with those two catches for 69 yards and a pair of scores, who made the biggest difference.

 

Feacher got much out of limited opportunities in that 1980 season, with four of his 10 receptions going for TDs.

 

Now the Browns were headed to the playoffs, but not before they – and their legions of fans — spent a few more days whooping it up.

 

Next: Right but wrong.