This is a story about a duck, and a lot of luck.

And if you’re up to your knees in stories about, and you’re now officially on information overload concerning, the NFL Scouting Combine — if you know Ohio State wide receiver Garrett Wilson’s 40 time but you can’t remember the time you’re supposed to pick up your daughter from practice for the high school play — then this is the place for you for the next couple of minutes as we provide a respite from all that — a much-needed escape, if only temporary; you can get right back to the Combine when you’re done, as I think the edge rushers are running sometime soon.

It was Jan 4, 1986, and the Browns, by virtue of, with just an 8-8 record, winning the AFC Central title, were in the divisional playoffs at the Orange Bowl, where they were decided underdogs to the defending AFC champion Miami Dolphins.

But, behind the running of Earnest Byner and Kevin Mack, who had become just the third set of backs from the same team in NFL history to both rush for 1,000 yards in the same season in 1985, the Browns had roared to a 21-3 third-quarter lead. That, along with the fact that the Cleveland defense, led by two young cornerbacks by the name of Hanford Dixon and Frank Minnifield, and a young safety named Don Rogers, was throttling quarterback Dan Marino and his talented wide receivers, led everyone to believe the Browns were headed to a lopsided win to earn a spot in the conference championship game for the first time.

I mean, what could possibly happen?

The Browns, with rookie Bernie Kosar as the quarterback but, in the days before Lindy Infante’s arrival as offensive coordinator, were running a passing attack that had to have been concocted in the Neanderthal Age. As a result, they couldn’t throw the ball effectively enough to keep the lead (they finished the game with 62 passing yards) and the Dolphins rallied to win 24-21.

I had watched the game at my mom’s house. I went into the bathroom to wash my hands afterward and, handling my disappointment in a way that you expect from a 30-year-old male, I angrily pounded my fist against the wall, causing a ceramic fish decoration to get jarred off its hook and fall to the floor, breaking into pieces.

Ugh.

“What was that?” my mom said.

I told her what happened.

I didn’t apologize — I didn’t even have a remorseful tone, not the least bit, in my voice. In fact, I never apologized to her for it even though I had broken something in her home beyond repair — something she liked. And I did so after I had taken over her TV for an entire Saturday afternoon to watch an event in which she had absolutely no interest.

I guess that was my way of saying thanks.

Really?!

For goodness sake, it was a football game — a huge football game, mind you, but a football game nonetheless. What as I thinking?! Was I even thinking?!

Talk about being a knucklehead.

My mom, a kind, sweet soul who would do anything for anybody at anytime, and was as selfless as the day is long, died 33 years ago Saturday, on March 5, 1989.
I was so darn lucky — lucky beyond my wildest dreams — in that I had the best the parents ever, and the best mom in the history of moms, someone who, unlike her son, was always in control of her emotions, a trait I greatly value in people.

Go figure.

Anyway, enjoy the rest of the Combine.

BTW, Garrett Wilson can run 40 yards twice as fast as most of us can run 10 yards.

Just sayin’.

By Steve King