Hoss: With Rams back at the scene of NOLA No Call, just know I'll never be 'over it'

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The “Minneapolis Miracle” is a play I’ve seen one time on television, and that TV was at my brother-in-law’s house.

That’s it. Never again. I watched the play live, then walked outside to his back porch staring into the dark abyss. I watched a portion of the TV from the porch and saw part of one replay. I couldn’t take it. I’ve made sure never to see that moment again.

If I feel I know when it’s coming, like the week ahead of Saints-Vikings in London, I prepare for it by changing the channel. It’s been almost 4 years. My record is unblemished.

I can’t imagine we need reminding, but it was the final play on a Divisional Round matchup with Minnesota, the Saints leading 24-23 with just seconds to play. That’s when Case Keenum hit receiver Stefon Diggs near the sideline. Marcus Williams went low for the tackle and missed. Diggs ran to the end zone for a 61-yard, game-winning touchdown to end the Saints’ 2017 season. Believe it or not, that was the first playoff game in NFL history to end with a touchdown as time expired. It was also the catalyst for an NFL rule change. If you remember (I was on the porch) the Vikings won 29-24. That’s because, back then, teams were required to kick an extra point or at least run a play, even if it didn’t affect the final result. It delayed the end of the game as the Saints had to run players back out on the field for the demoralizing final kick. That group of reluctant Saints players included punter Thomas Morstead lining up on defense.

The Vikings took a knee to put the Who Dats out of their misery. The NFL changed the rule the next offseason, allowing walk-off touchdowns without a meaningless PAT to ruin the moment (assuming you didn’t need that point to cover the spread, at least).

Now, with the L.A. Rams scheduled to visit the Superdome this weekend, let's move on to the NOLA No Call. I’ve seen that play enough times that I could produce a documentary breaking down each player and each official. Never before or since have we scrutinized an official’s hand motions running up the sideline shortly before their home addresses.

I was standing on the sideline for that one and in perfect position to see the obvious pass interference call that wasn’t called. I wasn’t down near the end zone, but on the far end of the Saints bench. From that perspective, with players forming a line horizontally starting with Drew Brees from left to right, it was so clearly a penalty. I just assumed I couldn’t see the flag. But there wasn’t one. It never came.

The Saints should have never put themselves in that situation. The Saints could have still won in overtime. I get all that, but I am not, and never will be, over that game and missed call.

I work inside Caesars Superdome as the Manager of Media Relations, so I have stood in that spot many, many times over the years, replaying the play and how so many officials could have gotten it wrong all at the same time. I’ve watched it from every angle, over and over, and I can at least understand why the sideline official closest to the play didn’t throw the flag. From his vantage point the Rams defensive back, Nickell Robey-Coleman, and Saints wide-out Tommylee Lewis were in a direct line to Drew Brees, so he had no feel for the space between Robey-Colman and Lewis. To him I believe that it appeared to be a “bang-bang play.” He still got it wrong, but the geometry at least absolves him to some degree. Everyone else, from my vantage point, has no such excuse. They, along with lead referee Bill Vinovich, could have and should have thrown a flag. It was a blatant and intentional pass interference by Robey-Coleman. He admitted so in the post-game locker room.

The NFL verified the missed call, adding insult to injury and claiming it could have also been flagged as a helmet-to-helmet hit.

I remember not wanting to leave the field thinking that might somehow be what verified the unacceptable result as official. I stayed and stayed, hoping someone would come to their senses.

Sure, the no-call changed the league’s rules for one season when they allowed coaches to challenge pass interference calls. That was really just a token change to appease Saints fans. It didn’t work, not for me, anyway. I will never be over it.

I remember when I finally did make my way off the field, I saw former Saints kicker Morten Andersen sitting on the end of the Saints bench. All by himself, with his gold Hall of Fame Jacket, face and hair drenched in sweat. I’ve known Morten for 30 years and had interviewed him on the sideline earlier in the game, but I didn’t have the heart to say anything as I walked by. And what would I say?

We’ve talked about it since, and he said it was the most emotionally draining football game that he’s ever witnessed – at least in his post-playing career.  He looked as we all felt: robbed.

So, while I can confirm I will never again watch the “Minneapolis Miracle” play, I can also say that I’ll talk about the NOLA No-Call until the end of time. And even then, I still won’t be over it.

Featured Image Photo Credit: USAT Images