Featured Column, Column, Sports

Desmond Howard, Doug Flutie, And The Complex Art Of The Celebration

Former University of Michigan wide receiver Desmond Howard possessed a lethal combo of blazing speed and elusive shiftiness, each of which was on display for the world to see at Michigan Stadium on Nov. 23, 1991.

The Wolverines were the No. 4 team in the country and facing the Ohio State Buckeyes, their biggest rivals, in the final game of the season. OSU was no slouch itself, entering the game ranked No. 18 with an 8-2 record.

Michigan would crush OSU on this day—but people don’t remember many of the details of the game. The most memorable play of that historic rivalry game was, of all things, a punt.

Howard, Michigan’s primary punt returner, received a kick from deep in his own territory, sashayed left and right to avoid would-be tacklers, and then turned on the jets.

The maize and blue blur rocketed down the left side of the field, leaving Buckeye after Buckeye in his trail. He pointed up to the Wolverine faithful as he neared paydirt, acknowledging the 106,156 fans who braved the frigid Midwest weather. And then he did something to be replayed in football advertisements for a lifetime.

Howard made his way to the center of the end zone, lifted his left knee towards his chest, and extended his left arm, clutching the ball close to his heart with the other. It was a position he only held for a split-second, turning around moments later to embrace his teammates still making their ways downfield. But it was instantly recognizable—the Heisman Trophy pose.

With that, Desmond Howard cemented his place in college football immortality. He made a play, and then he made a statement. The play was remembered for a while, but a shot of Howard’s Heisman pose instantly became one of the most lasting sporting images of the 20th century.


“Caught by Boston College, I don’t believe it! It’s a touchdown! The Eagles win it!”

BC fans are all-too-familiar with this quote from college football announcer Brent Musburger, and the accompanying scene from the Orange Bowl in Miami at the end of the 1984 season. The Eagles went down to the University of Miami and toppled the defending national champion Hurricanes on one of the most unbelievable plays in sports history.

But fans don’t remember that Miami quarterback Bernie Kosar threw for a school record 447 yards, or that Hurricanes running back Melvin Bratton scored four touchdowns. They don’t remember that BC blew a 14-0 lead early in the game. And they wouldn’t remember 45 of the 46 passing attempts slung from the arm of diminutive quarterback Doug Flutie on that warm November evening in tropical South Florida.

They remember that superhuman throw, that miraculous catch, and that chaotic celebration.

A jubilant Flutie leaping with arms extended, his white No. 22 jersey barely able to contain his body, jumping into the waiting arms of offensive lineman Steve Trapilo. Carrying Flutie toward the goal line as orange bodies stood motionless on the home turf, still in disbelief of what had transpired. Gerard Phelan barely got up from the spot where he made his most famous catch before he was lifted straight into the air by flanker Kelvin Martin.

The victors mobbing in a dog pile, joined by teammates, coaches, and fans alike. A state of utter euphoria—from the lowest depths to highest of highs in the time it takes to say, “Hail Mary.”

The contest between these two high-ranked teams lived up to its national television billing, and remains one of the most improbable comebacks in the history of college football. Flutie, Phelan, and the rest of the 1984 Eagles live on.


The first moments after a major play in an athletic event can provide some of the most passionate displays of raw emotion available anywhere. Some players dance, some mock the opposing crowd, some turn to share the moment with teammates, and some are so overwhelmed by it that they collapse to the ground in tears. Pouring one’s entire life into a single activity will cause that reaction.

These celebrations can be just as memorable as the play, if not more so. The famous images—Randy Moss mooning the raucous Lambeau Field crowd, Reggie Miller clutching his throat in front of New York Knicks superfan Spike Lee, or hockey enforcer Tiger Williams riding his stick down the ice like a horse—remain in mind far longer than any other in-game play.

As spectators, we yearn for moments like these. We live for moments like these. We love these moments because they reflect how we felt during those times—we felt like flashing the money sign with BC hockey’s Alex Tuch, jumping up with Michael Jordan after “The Shot,” and falling to our knees with Brad Lidge after the 2008 World Series. We capture the moments when they happen and cherish them for long afterward.

As kids, few baseball games in the backyard ended without a Kirk Gibson-esque limping home run trot. Basketball games weren’t complete without disrespectfully stepping over an embarrassed defender, a la Allen Iverson. Games of mini golf always included a dramatic Tiger Woods-style fist pump. Soccer games always led to penalty kick shootouts, a chance to show off your best Brandi Chastain impression.

Every celebration, like an individual’s playing style, is unique. People express themselves in different ways. Playing a game in front of tens of thousands sets of eyes, with countless more catching replays from every angle on television, athletes get a special opportunity to express themselves after big plays during the game. The best ones take advantage.


Looking back at old highlights of our favorite teams, the plays became hazy, distant memories stuffed into the back of our minds. We forget statistics, and we forget details.  We remember, however, the times we felt happiest—watching the jubilant celebrations of the players, and jumping around right alongside of them.

Featured Image by Emily Fahey / Heights Senior Staff

February 12, 2015