SAN DIEGO — The moment is frozen, held timeless in the haze of the night fog, silent and still. The picture of Clay Brown's leaping catch, of he and a Southern Methodist defensive back coming down, their hands clutched like vices on the ball; the stands exploding into frenzied color; the SMU band wearing silly red and white nightshirts and hats, gathering to play the last farewell to BYU on the sidelines; the tears brimming and finally spilling down a young woman's face; the blue-and-white splashed people, leaning out and bawling at their victors.
There will be more bowl games and more close games and more moments. But none will stay in BYU coach LaVell Edwards' mind as clearly or as long as those final seconds, when BYU won its first bowl, 46-45 in the Holiday Bowl, over SMU Friday.
Thinking back he will smile and chuckle, remembering the stunned and unsmiling face he wore as he walked from the field; his players tackling each other and screaming; reporters crushing him back to the wall of the tunnel under the stadium.
He'll recall going into the last quarter trailing 38-19; he'll remember it as the greatest victory in BYU football history to that point. He'll remind himself that that game was his. He'll ponder the words of a speech given to the Cougar Club members prior to the game, when the speaker said he knew BYU would win.
And he'll remember thinking he'd seen a miracle and someone asking him if he believed in them and his reply: "I do now."
"It's funny," said Edwards after the game. "Sometimes the momentum starts and you get to a point where no matter what you do, you can't do anything about who's going to win or lose. It's almost like things are out of your hands."
Like a miracle.
Said SMU coach Ron Meyer: "Those Mormons believe in miracles. I guess we all do. But no, this comeback wasn't a miracle, just solid football. I like to think miracles are used on things more important than football."
Now the Cougars may rest. For four bowl games and the entire past week, BYU tortured itself with thoughts of being unable to win the big game. BYU went through its practices prior to the Holiday Bowl with a strained air of single-minded resolve. And with a flick of Jim McMahon's arm and a sweep of kicker Kurt Gunther's leg, it was all in the past. "The pressure's off now," said offensive lineman Nick Eyre. "They can say whatever they want to say now. We won."
Sometimes when he lets his mind wander further, Edwards will remember the frightful SMU offensive line, "that completely pushed us around in the first half." He'll recall the defensive line that rumbled in on BYU quarterback McMahon like a thunderstorm off the ocean; and he'll remember SMU running backs Craig James and Eric Dickerson bulling through tackles and then passing on.
He'll furrow his brow, thinking of the 225 yards James rushed for and the 110 by Dickerson.
A shiver may even brush him as he recalls trailing 19-0 in the first quarter, 45-25 in the last quarter.
Other thoughts will trouble him: How Dickerson flew around the left side for one touchdown, James took a fake punt 45 yards for another and how a bad snap and safety put the score at 16-0. He'll also recall Eddie Garcia's field goal and Clay Brown's catch that he pinned with one hand to his hip before running 64 yards to bring the score to 19-7. Thoughts will follow of James' pass catch for a TD and another field goal for a 29-7 lead. He'll see Vai Sikahema running a punt back 83 yards for BYU, cutting the SMU lead to 29-13.
The one-yard TD leap by Dickerson will come back, then Brown's 13-yards TD catch bringing BYU within 16, Garcia's field goal for a 38-19 lead, Scott Phillips' TD for a 38-25 score. He'll recall James' cutback run of 42 yards that put SMU up 45-25, and his saying, "That's it. That one killed us."
Then the memory will pick up and he'll see flashes on the clock with only minutes left.
He'll smile as he remembers Matt Braga, who wasn't expected to play due to a knee injury, diving and tumbling for a catch to come up with the ball and the official pausing, pausing, pausing, and then signaling touchdown, and Braga saying, "I don't know," to questions whether he really caught it or just fell on it.
Then Edwards will think of a bomb pass from McMahon to Bill Davis that covered 40 yards and ended at the one-foot line — a play that Davis missed that audible call by McMahon, and went the wrong way, but still got the ball from his quarterback. He'll remember Phillips' run around the right end and his two-point pass conversion, bring the score to 45-39.
And in a fast blur, which is how it really happened, he'll see Bill Schoepflin hurtling through the SMU line to block Eric Kaife's kick with 13 seconds left. Then McMahon throwing past Brown. And just three seconds left on the clock. Then McMahon throwing and four pawing at Brown, all tumbling over and Edwards' offensive coordinator telling him Brown caught it when he wasn't looking, and his mind telling him there must have been a penalty. Then, Gunther's game-winning extra point kick.
He'll pass quickly over the flood of emotion and sound that washed over him at the game's end. He'll slide back in his chair, the same way he did on the noisy plane back to Salt Lake City that night. Lastly, he'll remember falling asleep, deeply, for the first time in days.
And feeling like he had never felt before.
Like he'd seen a miracle.