Wide Left

"It was like everyone expected me to miss," said Bentley, whose season had not lived up to the hype. "It's like, If it comes down to Bentley, he'll miss it." In the stands his father chose to sit while all around him stood screaming. His mother just felt sick. And now the kick was up. Bentley's brother, a junior at Creighton, tends bar in Omaha. Tips will be very low in 1994. Bentley kicked it perfectly. Florida State, 18-16.

In Dallas, Notre Dame players, back in their hotel, were so convinced that a Seminole win would give the Irish the top ranking in at least one of the polls that they leaped to their feet and cheered when Bentley's kick soared through the uprights. You don't see that often: People cheering at their own funeral.

And still, incredibly, the game wasn't over. Back came undauntable Nebraska. The pass to Bell. The knee going down. The clock drifting to nothing. The jubilation, with Florida State players wearing their national-championship hats and waving their national-championship T-shirts and bulging their national-championship eyes. Somebody held up a sign saying IT'S A BOWD-EN TIME. Somebody else held up a sign saying GREAT SCOTT!

But that's when time started backing up—right into the stomach of Nebraska's kicker, Bennett. A sudden, unbelievable 45-yard chance at never having to pay for a round in Nebraska again. Just my luck, Bennett said to himself. "I have to reprove myself a few minutes later."

With deep penetration by the Seminoles, Bennett had to hurry the kick. It sailed too far left. Now it really was over, and in the tumult only one thing in the whole spectrum of college football was clear: Nobody in the free world is 17½ points better than Nebraska.

"I don't know if anybody eats any crow these days," said Osborne. "They just conveniently forget what they said."

Back in Dallas, Lou Holtz's karma failed him. The voters turned thumbs-down on the Irish. "I didn't think there was any possibility that we wouldn't win it," Holtz said glumly Sunday morning in a poll pall. "I guess [the Irish win over Florida State] didn't count for anything. Everybody said it was the Game of the Century. I guess it's only the Game of the Century if the right team wins it."

Bowden was nonetheless proud of what he had finally accomplished.

"Men," he said, "you got to look at the season overall. Can't just look at one game."

We looked. We analyzed. Our jury is hung.