ROSE BOWL: USC 41, Northwestern 32 : Wildcats’ Tale Not a Stretch

So, the glass slipper didn’t quite fit. The clock struck midnight. The prince wanted her just to do the laundry. There was no happy ending. The carriage turned back into a pumpkin, the horses into mice.

But was that fairy tale enough football for you? Palm-sweating, heart-pounding football, was it? Did “Cinderella,” i.e., Northwestern come close enough to making fairy tales come true? They don’t, you know. Only in Disney movies.

They almost came true in the Rose Bowl on Monday.

Northwestern is supposed to be the scullery maid of Big Ten football. The Wildcats get to eat with the family only occasionally. They’re supposed to know their place and keep out of the way of their stepsisters, i.e., the other members of the conference. You know, shut up and mop the floor. That is, lose eight of 10 games a year. Go do windows.

So no one took them completely seriously when they came out for the Rose Bowl. They were ranked No. 3 in the country and USC was ranked No. 17--but the gamblers had the Wildcats three-point underdogs. Prevailing opinion was they were doing it with mirrors and wands. A fairy godmother at work.

Can I tell you something? It makes good copy, but Northwestern is nobody’s Cinderella. I’m not sure the better team won.

Northwestern came west with a reputation of being a bunch of scholars who got lucky.

Well, I can tell you all you need to know about Northwestern. It is the close of the first half. The Wildcats have had some bad breaks. A guy catches a pass for them for a good gain, but the ball falls loose. An SC player, considerably to his surprise and with a look-what-bounced-into-my-hands expression on his face, scoops it up and runs it in for a touchdown.

With 12 seconds left in the half, Northwestern is down, 24-7. And SC has the ball.

Time to say “Wait till next year!” eh?

Not Northwestern. It forces a fumble, recovers it--and in only 10 seconds, it has moved to a field goal.

It is a terrific morale booster. Northwestern comes out in the second half, marches the kickoff back for another field goal. Now it’s 24-13. Then it completely makes a patsy out of SC with an on-side kick. SC players are peeling back to block for the returner. So Northwestern gleefully recovers almost unopposed. And in six plays the Wildcats have a touchdown. It’s now 24-19 and SC is like a guy who hears a noise in the attic. Trying to look over both shoulders at once. Eyes big, nerves on edge.

But now comes the play that might have been the game.

All afternoon, Northwestern was the equal of any player on the SC team. Except one.

Keyshawn Johnson is one of the few pop-off guys you will ever meet who is as good as he says he is. With Johnson, this is pretty good. Usually, a guy pops off to conceal hidden insecurities. Johnson doesn’t have any of those. Johnson doesn’t have an insecurity in his system. He thinks football is lucky to have him.

The USC Trojans are. Because, just as the team was about to become unglued, hearing footsteps, Johnson caught a pass from Brad Otton, eluded the whole Northwestern team and danced in for an answering touchdown. With six minutes to play in the third quarter, Johnson has put SC up a critical 12 points, 31-19.

Johnson, of course, was the least surprised guy in the Rose Bowl. Johnson is surprised when he doesn’t make a touchdown. All Johnson requires is that the ball be in the air. He catches balls behind him. He catches them in crowds of four. He catches them at his shoe tops. He caught 12 passes for 216 yards Monday. Almost every one of them was a dagger in the heart of Northwestern.

Without him, the Cinderellas live happily ever after. The slipper fits, the band plays, the prince takes her to Camelot.

They didn’t do it with mirrors, wands or tricks. They even came to Planet Hollywood and sportingly joined in all the hoopla, hype and fun at Disneyland, where they rode cups and participated in gags with their distinguished alum Charlton Heston. Unlike the old Woody Hayes bowl teams, they smelled the roses.

This was supposed to be fatal to football. When Pittsburgh teams came out here in early years to lose, 47-14, and, 35-0, the whisper was, they had spent all their time on the Sunset Strip.

Well, Northwestern never missed a dance. But the Wildcats didn’t leave their game in a nightclub. SC was like a fighter hanging on and looking at the clock when the game ended. Sure glad to hear the final gun. Northwestern scored almost at will, as the final 41-32 score attests. The clock just hit 12 on this Cinderella team.

The Wildcats probably brought more IQ to a Rose Bowl game than it has had since Harvard was last out here. The game had been advertised as a game between brain and brawn--and it was. Even the halftime show featured grand opera tunes. Usually, you get “Waiting for the Robert E. Lee,” and the band is a steamboat. Northwestern gave you “Turandot.”

The Wildcats also gave you alert football. They were slower than SC, but they were smarter. They might even have been stronger. Speed is not essential if you are in the right place at the right time. They usually were.

The game was what the fight mob calls a “crowd pleaser.” Like a bar fight between two drunks--all offense. But it was exciting. The kind of game every Rose Bowl should be. One of the best ever.

You hope Cinderella gets a sequel. If the Wildcats get one without Keyshawn Johnson to chase, they might even get one that can live happily ever after.