WHAT A DUDE, WHAT A GAME, WHAT A WIN AND WHAT A SEASON IN 1980
Sunday is the 45th anniversary of Red Right 88, the play that brought the curtain down on the Kardiac Kids.
Yes, that play became an instant nightmare when, on Jan. 4, 1981, nickel defensive back Mike Davis, doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing in that coverage, and thus ending up where he really should not have been, intercepted Brian Sipe’s pass across the middle intended for tight end Ozzie Newsome in the end zone in the final minute to seal the deal in the Browns’ 14-12 loss to the Oakland Raiders in the 1980 AFC divisional playoffs in the standup freezer that was Cleveland Stadium that day — zero degrees at kickoff, with a minus-37 wind-chill.
Despite all that, it doesn’t ruin one bit, for me at least, and possibly many of you as well, the joy of the most fun season in Browns history — a season that, with all of its fantastic finishes, you had to see to believe, and even then you didn’t believe it because it was a magic carpet ride second to none. A total of 14 of the 17 games were not decided until the final two minutes. It wasn’t really football, but rather tremendous theater, keeping the audience spellbound each and every Sunday performance, waiting to see how it all played out this time.
And it was in Cincinnati, in a stadium that was located right next to the one where the Browns and Bengals will conclude their season on Sunday, that the teams played their regular-season finale and provided the greatest moments in a year that was chock-full of them for head coach Sam Rutigliano‘s bunch.
The Browns came to Riverfront Stadium on Dec. 21 with a 10-5 record on the heels of a crushing 28-23 loss at Minnesota when the Vikings, trailing 23-9 midway through the fourth quarter, completed a tremendous rally by throwing a 46-yard Hail Mary touchdown pass as time expired.
“On the flight back home that night, all of (owner) Art Modell’s lieutenants (top executives) were ready to jump,” Rutigliano said. “I told them, ‘Relax, we’ll be fine.’ “
Nonetheless, it was a hold-your-breath moment. The Browns had to win in Cincinnati to make the playoffs, and they could do so only as AFC Central champions. Being on the wrong side of tie-breakers precluded them getting in as a wild card.
The Browns had routed the Bengals 31-7 at Cleveland a month earlier, but this was a much-improved team they were facing, one that had won three in a row to get to 6-9. The Bengals were really relishing the return match, a fact that came up as the Browns boarded the team bus at their downtown hotel at Fountain Square for the short ride down the big hill to the stadium on the banks of the Ohio River.
Rutigliano got onto the bus — he was the first one — and sat in the front left seat, right behind the driver, that was always reserved for Modell. When the owner boarded shortly thereafter, he was startled by the seating arrangement, but he made no mention of it and just sat down in the seat across the aisle.
The silence — they remained the only two riders for a while — was finally broken when Modell said, “Sam, the city is on fire about the Browns. There are banners everywhere. Ticket sales have been soaring all year. It’s been just tremendous. I want you to know that no matter what happens down there today, it’s already been a successful season.”
“Baloney!,” Rutigliano said immediately.
Only the coach used a word that’s much stronger, and considerably more earthy. It took Modell aback.
Anyway, the coach wasted no time in continuing, “Who’s the guy who will be coaching on the sideline today? It’s Forrest Gregg. You fired him, remember? And who’s the guy who will be watching up in the owner’s box? It’s Paul Brown. You fired him, too. Those two guys would like nothing better than to beat us today and ruin our season.
“Look, you want to win today more then you want to take your next breath, and you know it.”
Modell never said a word. He just sat back down. Yes, he did know that everything Rutigliano had just said was right on point.
The game was tight throughout. The revved-up Bengals took a quick 10-0 lead, but the Browns rallied to tie it at 10-10 by halftime.
The Bengals went back on top 17–10 in the third quarter on a interception return for a touchdown by Archie Griffin’s younger brother, Ray, a safety.
The Browns were at a crossroads. They had tried just about everything in their repertoire, but on this day, at least, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was working. They needed something else, or, as it turned out, someone else.
They got it from the unlikeliest of sources.
Starting wide receiver Dave Logan caught a 65-yard pass early in the game, and then went out with a knee injury. Little-used Ricky Feacher — he had caught just eight passes all year, two of which went for touchdowns, and was known mostly for having the nickname “Hollywood Dude” for being, by far, the flashiest dresser on the team — came into the game and wasted no time getting into Sipe’s ear and trying to interject himself into the game plan.
“Throw me the bomb!,” Feacher said.
Over and over and over again during the course of the game, Feacher would come back to the huddle and say, “Throw me the bomb!”
Side had ignored him all day, but during the possession following the interception return for a touchdown, he finally decided that the Dude was worth a try. What else did he have to lose?
The Browns had driven to the Cincinnati 35. Feacher came back to the huddle and once again implored the quarterback to throw him the bomb.
Sipe looked him right in the eye and said, “All right, Dude, I’m going to throw you the bomb, but you had better catch it because if you drop it, then you should just keep on running right off the field, through the tunnel and out of the stadium.”
“Don’t worry, Brian, you just put the ball up there and I promise you that I’ll catch it,” Feacher said confidently, without blinking an eye.
It was the kind of attitude the staggering Browns needed at that moment as they tried to get off the ropes and save their season.
Feacher ran a “go” route — the bomb — down the right sideline and caught a perfectly-placed pass from Sipe for a touchdown.
The Browns quickly got the ball back, and, from the Cincinnati 34, they ran the same play, only this time down the left sideline. Feacher ran past cornerback Ken Riley, now in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, and snared the pass in the end zone for another score.
Just like that, in the span of just three minutes — a veritable blink of an eye in a football game — the Browns had scored twice, going from a touchdown behind to a touchdown ahead at 24-17.
That was the kind of season 1980 was, with everybody taking turns stepping to the forefront. But no one that day thought it would be Feacher, who did so as a bit player, coming out from behind the curtain after all the leading men had played their parts and the Browns were still left wanting.
The Bengals managed to score a touchdown of their own to tie the game again at 24–24, but the Browns went ahead 27–24 on Don Cockroft’s 22-yard field goal with 1:25 left. They then withstood the hosts’ furious last-gasp drive as veteran quarterback Ken Anderson came into the game and moved the team quickly down the field, capped by his 22-yard pass to wide receiver Steve Kreider to the Cleveland 14 with just seconds left. The game ended with the Bengals, not having any timeouts, racing down the field, unsuccessfully so, to try to spike the ball so as to be able to run another play. Browns safety — and Sandusky High School product — Thom Darden, who had made the tackle, laid on top of Kreider to keep him from getting up.
The Browns — and thousands of their fans who made the trek down I-71 to Cincinnati to see the game in person — went crazy. The players carried Rutigliano off the field on their shoulders.
Then in the jubilant Cleveland locker room, Rutigliano stood up and motioned for the players to give him their attention. He wanted to address a comment that Houston Oilers head coach Bum Phillips had made before the season. Since his team had lost to the Pittsburgh Steelers the previous two seasons in the AFC Championship Game, he told his players they needed to “beat Pittsburgh and kick in the door to the Super Bowl.”
“Gentlemen, I’ve got my best line of this season,” Rutigliano said with a wry smile. “ ‘Bum Phillips kicked in the wrong door!’ “
The players cheered. I cheered when I first saw the tape of his comments, and I have cheered every time through the years when I went back and watched it. It was a seminal moment.
Perhaps I will search out Rutigliano’s quip before the game on Sunday. If I do, then I will cheer, and smile, for never was there a season like that one before in Browns history, and never has there been a season like it since.
Nearly a half-century later, we’re still remembering it.
Steve King
