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On a clear day, San Diego State saw forever
Tom C. Brody
November 14, 1966
The hot winds died, the fogs disappeared and the Aztecs of San Diego combined blazing speed with Don Horn's accurate passes to swamp North Dakota State and become the country's No. 1 small-college team
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November 14, 1966

On A Clear Day, San Diego State Saw Forever

The hot winds died, the fogs disappeared and the Aztecs of San Diego combined blazing speed with Don Horn's accurate passes to swamp North Dakota State and become the country's No. 1 small-college team

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In five games, three of which were absolute hair-raisers ( San Diego State beat Weber State 38-34, scoring three times in the last quarter; got by Cal Poly 14-13 by blocking an extra point try after the final gun; and outlasted Long Beach State 21-18), Coryell ignored the run and sent ends, flankers, tailbacks—anyone eligible to catch a ball—scampering this way and that, and Horn knew exactly what to do with the situation.

Then, two weeks ago, against Fresno State, the young line came of age, and Shy and Washington nearly matched Horn's passing yardage with their runs—at least for a while. In the second half a fog came in and both teams disappeared. "We know you're there, Aztecs. We know you're there," was one chant offered up by the student cheering section. Another was: "We love you, Aztecs, wherever you are."

Ron Erhardt's idea of good football is to hit somebody—or everybody—so hard that something inevitably collapses. His game plan for North Dakota was simple: get Horn. And then, follow Teddy Washington—everywhere.

It was a sound plan, but following Washington and doing something about him are different problems. On the first play from scrimmage the fullback went right up the middle for 32 yards. That was the end of San Diego running until the last quarter when Washington squirted loose for an 86-yard touchdown—but no matter. Horn took turns passing to Moses and End Craig Scoggins, a little fellow who reminds people of Howard Twilley. Only Scoggins is much faster—naturally—and just like that San Diego had 14 points.

Not that North Dakota was through. The Bisons are a proud lot, and Erhardt kept them whopping away with traps and short passes right down to San Diego's four-yard line just before the end of the half. Then came disaster No. 1. The fourth-down plunge missed by an inch. Disaster No. 2: Horn completed a 41-yarder to Scoggins, who ran out of bounds on North Dakota's 18. Disaster No. 3: with four seconds left, Johns tried the first field goal of his career—and nearly fell down from shock when he made it. Disaster No. 4: the second half. By the middle of the third period North Dakota State's entire backfield was on the bench nursing injuries and it was then no longer a question of who was No. 1, but whether the old No. 1 would score. The Bisons came close, but Bob Jones, an Aztec defender, intercepted a pass on the two and sprinted—what else?—for 98 yards.

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