On November 8th, 1970 the New Orleans Saints were hosting the Detroit Lions in old Tulane Stadium.  The Superdome was little more than a hope and a dream at that point.  The Saints won/loss record was a disappointing 1-5-1 on the season.  Prior to this dismal 1970 start the franchise had set a record in its 1967 expansion season with the most first season wins ever with three against 11 losses (they only played 14 games back then) .  In 1968 they improved to 4-10.  And, in 1969 they improved yet again to 5-9.

The 1970 season was so disappointing that the owner, John Mecom Jr., fired the first and only head coach, Tom Fears, that they had after the weeks’ prior loss.  In walked J.D. Roberts to confidently take his place.  The only problem was that Roberts resume’ stalled out at the NFL linebackers coach level, and that was two years prior.  After that he was running the Saints farm team (they had such a thing at that time) for two years.  Think of it as a JV coach in high school perhaps?

If you need more evidence as to how shaky this hire was jump forward for a minute to 1971 when Archie Manning became a Saint via the second overall pick in the draft.   That fall, in Roberts first full season, he, Manning, and the Saints traveled for preseason game number one.   Manning recalled this first game ever, which brought the Saints to Buffalo to play the Bills and their celebrity running back, O.J. Simpson.  After Simpson ripped off a 30-yard gain, “J.D. turns to me and says, ‘I don’t know who that No. 32 is, but he’s a damn good-looking running back,'” Manning said. “I couldn’t tell if J.D. was serious or not. That’s the way J.D. was.  But I thought to myself, ‘Here I am in the NFL and our head coach doesn’t even know who O.J. Simpson is.'”

So back to Roberts fifth full day on the job, he jogged out with the Saints to take on the soon to be playoff bound Lions.  Boom Boom and I had tickets courtesy of one of the suppliers that sold to him, Mr. Harold Kataya.  We joined his group of many in their row 2 upper deck 40 yard line seats.  The game ebbed and flowed and with under 30 seconds left Detroit kicked a chip shot field goal to climb ahead 17-16.

The cocktails were flowing all game long in row 2 as well.  Getting booze into the stadium wasn’t a tough task back then.  Watching a team about to fall to 1-6-1 was a tough task and likely much more fun if your vision was a bit blurred.  Detroit was much better than the woeful Saints.  However, they too may have had a few on Bourbon St. the night prior for the game to be this close this late.

A decent kickoff return and one pass play later the Saints were down to the final two seconds and the ball was resting on their own 44.  Time out.   Out trotted the field goal special teams unit.  In 1970 the goal posts were still on the goal line (the safety of the players wasn’t quite what it is today).  This field goal, given the seven yard snap back to the holder, would be attempted from 63 long yards.

Boom Boom turned to me and said convincingly and quickly “Son, there is no way he can make this.  You realize that right?”  “I think he can Dad.”  “He” was Tom Dempsey the N.O. field goal kicker.  Tom Dempsey was born with no toes on his right foot and no fingers on his right arm.  He kicked with his right foot.  That’s right.  His specially made kicking shoe was squared and flat on the end.  Like almost all others then he kicked straight on, not soccer style like every kicker does today.

The longest field goal ever made to that point was 56 yards.  It was made 17 long years prior in 1953.  One Lion, Alex Karras, then a pro bowler and later in life a TV game analyst/announcer and  sitcom actor, was said to have laughed out loud on the field that the Saints were even attempting such an absurdity.

The snap was fine and the hold was perfect.  As Dempsey put his half-foot into the ball the Lions made only a cursory attempt to block the kick.  The kick traveled from our left to our right.  Time stood still.  Eighty three thousand fans were silent as one.  The football flew.  And flew.  And flew.  And when it crossed over the bar with a good two feet to spare the referees came from beneath the goal post, arms risen in unison, signalling that the kick was good.  Good.  GOOD!

I looked wide-eyed at Boom Boom.  He jovially looked at me. “You were right, son!”  I jumped for joy.  He caught me, hoisted me higher, and we jumped even higher as one.  There was but one problem.  Boom Boom lost his balance.  At that split second my back was to the field.   We fell into row 1.  Half of my body was above the railing separating us from 40 feet of free fall into the lower section.  Thankfully all of his body was below the railing and he never lost his hold of me.  The hug was too tight and the joy was so right.

The Saints lost every other game that year to finish 2-11-1.  It mattered not to this then ten-year old.

It was the mighty boot of Dempsey that made the football fly! Two seconds left, it was do or die!  Those are the first two lines of the ballad later sung, recorded, and sold on a 45 rpm to commemorate the moment.  I got the 45 as a birthday gift and played the grooves off of it.

The moral of the story you ask?  Actually there are a few.  Enjoy every second.  Dream big.  Cherish great memories.  Oh, and don’t sit too close to the upper deck railing.