A Necessity for Making Super Bowl

Don’t look now but events over the weekend in pro football seem to give ringing endorsement to one of my long-cherished Murray’s Laws of Athletic Probability.

You all know what these laws are, if you’ve been paying attention: propositions as immutable as Pythagoras’ Theorem.

You may not ordinarily think of me as a man of science--I have trouble opening a fuse box--but when it comes to sports behavior I am infallible. I have decades of observable phenomena to verify me.

For instance, who can quarrel with Murray’s Law of geographic probability: “Whatever can go to New York, will?” That is as demonstrably true as the rule of geometry that sides opposite equal angles are equal. Even its corollary is true: “Whatever can go to Chicago, won’t.”

Then, there is the tried and true Murray’s Law that, “On any obvious passing situation late in an NFL game, the quarterback can help himself to 15 to 20 yards anytime he wants.” This happens so often, the point need not be belabored.

But what has heartened me considerably over this past week is the prove-out of one of Murray’s All-Time Pet Laws. It is this: “Quarterbacks get you to the Super Bowl.”

Now, I admit it does not have the ring of basic theorems of history as, “The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides,” but it is, nonetheless, equally valid and provable.

Look at the Super Bowl tournament. Every team in it has a prime quarterback on hand. As usual.

Let’s examine what we have: Joe Montana? Well, of course. What more do you need to say? He comes with the Super Bowl. If he ain’t in it, it ain’t a Super Bowl. John Elway? Natch! Here’s a guy who has put mediocre teams in Super Bowls. Elway is the most perfect proof of Murray’s Law there is. Can you think of any other reason why Denver is always in a Super Bowl--or right next to it?

Bernie Kosar. Look! This may be the really smartest quarterback in the game. He unloads the ball in a kind of ungainly sidearm motion like a guy dropping a suitcase, but let me tell you something, Stan Musial didn’t have the best batting form you ever saw. Neither did Ty Cobb. Kosar’s passes look just fine on a scoreboard.

Jim Everett? Well, he’s a relative newcomer, some would say untried. But let me put it this way--is there another quarterback besides the ones we’ve already mentioned who’s any better? Dan Marino? Perhaps.

The history of the Super Bowl is, you go there, so to speak, on the arm. Certainly, not the hoof.

Check the records: The only possibly unqualified QB in the long history of the Super Bowl might be Miami’s David Woodley in 1983. No one ever mixed David up with Sammy Baugh.

For the rest, there was almost always a legend or semi-legend in the irons. Fran Tarkenton used to get his team in the Super Bowl. Joe Namath did it. Bart Starr did it. Lenny Dawson. Roger Staubach. Otto Graham would have.

It’s the one constant in a Super Bowl game.

None of this appears to rub off on general managers. Given the presence of all-hype running backs in the spring draft, they fall all over themselves to pick up 1,000-yard runners, Heisman winners, speed freaks. They usually pass up quarterbacks. “Not a good year for QB’s,” they usually sniff.

Why? Have you noticed Eric Dickerson isn’t even in the Super Bowl hunt? Never is. Neither is Herschel Walker. Minnesota gave up everything short of the state capitol to get him. It didn’t help. They didn’t get to the Super Bowl finals because Wade Wilson is not as good as the quarterbacks who did.

It would not be fair to say running backs don’t matter. It’s just that they’re not critical. They’re nice to have, but you don’t need them. You don’t need a Galloping Ghost. A competent experienced 4.6-speed runner will do if the game plan is artful enough.

Bo Jackson isn’t in a Super Bowl. Earl Campbell never made one--and if Earl Campbell can’t put you in a Super Bowl, no running back can.

The old Dallas Cowboys used to have Calvin Hill and Duane Thomas, but the Super Bowls came with Roger Staubach. Franco Harris ran nice with the football, but Terry Bradshaw and Lynn Swann won four Super Bowls.

O.J. Simpson never made a Super Bowl. Barry Sanders, as great a year as he had, isn’t in a Super Bowl or even a playoff. Walter Payton got in a Super Bowl in his dotage. And a quarterback, Jim McMahon, put the team there, not Walter.

There have been Super Bowls--1985, San Francisco-Miami, and 1988, Washington-Denver, come to mind--where everybody in the country knew the quarterbacks but hardly anyone could name the starting (or backup) running backs. Come to think of it, who were the running backs last year?

If running got you to the Super Bowl, the Giants would have gotten by the Rams Sunday. Deacon Jones, when he was the definitive defensive end for the Rams, always used to tell me: “We don’t worry about the run--we’ll never get beat by the run.”

I rest my case. I would remind you Joe Montana wasn’t selected until the third round of the 1979 draft. Johnny Unitas was working on a steamshovel when he was picked up.

I don’t expect any of this to have any influence on front offices. They have a long history of resisting my well-intentioned advice. But can I tell you something? The Seattle Seahawks have never drafted a quarterback No. 1. That may tell you all you have to know about the Seattle Seahawks. The Buffalo Bills drafted only one quarterback No. 1 in their history. Their first year, they drafted Richie Lucas out of Penn State. The New Orleans Saints drafted only one quarterback No. 1 in their existence, Archie Manning of Ole Miss. Dave Wilson was a supplemental No. 1 choice.

If you want to go to Carnegie Hall, practice. If you want to go to the Super Bowl, turn right at the quarterback. That’s Murray’s Fourth Law of Football. And I didn’t need an apple to fall on my head.