Boston.com / Sports / Bruins

This reality doesn't bite

Players revel in a dream come true

By Kevin Paul Dupont, Globe Staff, 2/4/2002

EW ORLEANS - The enchantment never ended. The wonderment never ceased.

Cobbled together with scraps from free agency and holdovers from a not-so-distant and disappointing past, the Patriots lingered here inside the Superdome last night, learning to live with the awkward cut of their new suit as NFL champions.

''I'll tell you what, I'll call you when it sinks in,'' said Tebucky Jones, looking and sounding bewildered as he sat in a strangely quiet corner of the Patriots' dressing room. ''You know, I just might sleep in here tonight.''

Perhaps it was the way it ended. A mad rush to the finish. The Rams - ''The great Goliath St. Louis Rams,'' as Tedy Bruschi later called them - tied it, 17-17, with 1:30 left. Then came a 53-yard march, the clock down to 0:07, and Adam Vinatieri's 48-yard field goal to finish it.

If there was any doubt, it was officially over when New England's Lonie Paxton, the long snapper, once more flipped to his back and swiped imaginary snow angels in the phonyturf. The snow was soon to follow, a blizzard of ticker tape falling from the heavens, as if a Montreal Express had swept into the Big Easy right on cue at 10:03 p.m. EDT.

''I was over there at the net with Adam,'' explained punter/holder Ken Walter, describing the whirlwind final moments as his partner warmed up his leg. ''And who was it who had the big catch? It was Troy, right? Troy caught the big one.''

Indeed, Troy Brown's 23-yard reception brought the Patriots to the St. Louis 36 with 29 seconds to go. Then came a 6-yard flip to Jermaine Wiggins to bring the ball to the 30 - also known as Vinatieri range.

''That was it right there,'' said Walter, who didn't hitch on with the Patriots until after the fifth week of the regular season. ''Adam and I made eye contact with each other, he hit me with five, and that was it - we didn't say a word. Ball back. The hold was there.

''I'm tellin' ya, man, what a ride. What an unbelievable ride.''

The New England locker room was noticeably absent the champagne showers and blaring music that normally envelop championship settings. Could they have expected to win? More likely they expected nothing, other than to play, find out, figure the rest from there.

''Win and move on, win and move on,'' said Tom Brady, contemplating the nine straight victories that delivered the franchise to its first championship. ''It's kind of weird. Now that we've won, I don't know what's next.''

The most effusive and animated was veteran safety Lawyer Milloy. Within minutes after the win, he was clutching the obligatory orange box of Wheaties, this one with assorted Patriots on the front and back. He was one of the champions, and the young man from the Wheaties marketing department handed him his breakfast.

''Who didn't believe? Who didn't believe?'' boomed Milloy as he strode into the main interview area, decked out in a ''Super Bowl XXXVI Champion'' T-shirt. ''Hey, we shocked the world. And we did it for ourselves - now no one can say anything about us. We went out there and beat the best. We dominated. We hit them. There is only one way to outsmart speed - you hit.''

Cornerback Terrell Buckley, who made a key fumble recovery after Antwan Harris forced a turnover late in the first half, figured it was the best Super Bowl ever witnessed.

''You couldn't ask for a better one,'' he said.

The ever-smiling Bruschi made the historical connection between his Patriots and the Minutemen, who defied incredible odds some 21/4 centuries ago. What better time for the Patriots to win, he said, than at a time when America's will and determination have been so monumentally tested?

''I feel like Rocky tonight,'' said Bruschi, recalling the cinematic pugilist. ''You know, we beat all the doubters. I feel like we beat Appolo and Tommy Gunn. We beat everybody.''

The night continued. They talked of many things. The season that grew more improbable by the week, full of serendipity and sweat, ended on a footnote supplied by Vinatieri's toe.

''A Cinderella story ... destiny ... whatever,'' said Brown. ''Call it whatever you want. But you know what we are? We're just a really good football team - that's what you can call us.''