Destiny normally is fairly forgiving, but it doesn’t want to be embarrassed. Work with me, it says. Play along with the script. Don’t try to show me up.
Green Bay was leading the Eagles 14-7 Sunday and faithfully following the story line. The team that had eked into the playoffs by the width of a baby’s hair was rolling. Brett Favre, who lost his father to a heart attack Dec. 21, was looking impressive as usual. Ahman Green was running all over the Philadelphia defense.
But then humans got involved, and it was right about then that destiny got hacked off and decided enough was enough. In something of a chain reaction, the fates revolted and the angels rolled their eyes. They’re all members of the same union, Dreamsters Local 131.
On fourth-and-goal from the Philadelphia 1-yard line, Packers coach Mike Sherman decided to go for the touchdown rather than the field goal. It was either adrenaline or a chemical imbalance talking.
Conventional wisdom says you kick the field goal and get the sure points on the road. Conventional wisdom says that in a playoff game, it’s a no-brainer. Conventional wisdom just about had a coronary right there.
Sherman sent Green up the middle, and Green tripped over guard Mike Wahle well short of the end zone. What made the decision worse was that the Packers knew they would have the ball to start the second half. They would have had a 17-7 lead with every reason to believe they would score again. They were playing a team that had struggled to score points this season.
And they went for it on fourth-and-1 anyway. Insanity, the temporary kind.
“I was tremendously surprised,” Eagles safety Brian Dawkins said. “I thought they’d go for the points on the board, but they were going for the knockout blow.”
The Packers’ magic came with an expiration date, and Sherman should have owned up to stamping it. But he didn’t.
“It was very simple,” Sherman said. “It was less than 1 [yard]. We’ve been aggressive in the past. We had fourth-and-1 against Tampa and Philly this year. We made a fourth down against [the Eagles] for a touchdown at home. We’ve been very successful on fourth-and-1.”
But this is the playoffs, where the consequences of poor plays and decisions are magnified. From that point on, the Packers were a different team, and so were the Eagles.
A case can be made that things changed because of Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb, who was everywhere he wanted to be Sunday and, better, heading for the NFC championship game against Carolina. When the Eagles tied the game early in the fourth quarter, you didn’t have to dust for fingerprints to figure whodunit. McNabb was 5-for-6 on the drive for 73 yards and ran for another 36 yards.
Packers rushers Kabeer Gbaja-Biamila and Cletidus Hunt missed tackles on McNabb when he threw a 12-yard touchdown pass to Todd Pinkston to make it 14-14.
The killer play? On fourth-and-26 later in the half, McNabb completed a 28-yard pass to Freddie Mitchell that led to a field goal that sent the game into overtime.
In overtime, Favre threw an ugly pass under pressure that at least had an element of suspense to it: Which Eagle would intercept it? It turned out be Dawkins.
“Time to time, Brett does that,” Dawkins said. “He throws the ball up.”
Well, no he doesn’t, not when everything seems to pointing to a special ending. This was supposed to end a different way. The power of tragedy and team unity seemed to be dragging the Packers to a wonderful place.
“We don’t need fate,” Mitchell said. “We’ve got [No.] 5.”
That would be McNabb, the kid from Mt. Carmel High School. And so the story changed, from a Packers march into America’s heart to a gritty team from Philadelphia that didn’t seem to care about all the sentiment tied to Green Bay. The Packers made mistakes, and the Eagles calmly and coldly took advantage.
This will be the Eagles’ third NFC championship game in a row. The story line said they aren’t supposed to be going. The story line says the Packers, with all that they have been through, should still be playing.
But the Packers forgot something along the way. They forgot that all the talk of mystical help is fine as long as you don’t tempt the fates. On Sunday, they didn’t just tempt fate.
As the Eagles were walking off the field, several players were yelling, “Destiny!”
It sounded a lot more derisive than declaratory.
