Allen Lazard had everything in his hands – a chance to give the Green Bay Packers a commanding lead in their divisional playoff game, a ticket to Titletown’s immortality and, for a fraction of a second, football – and then, with a sudden, strong thud, everything collapsed on the frozen tundra.
Two steps from the cornerback Darious Williams of the Los Angeles Rams and heading straight for Aaron Rodgers’ glorious pass, Lazard stretched his white gloves 35 meters from the end zone and winced when the ball fell from his fingers.
So much to end Rams’ hopes with the sixth seed in the middle of the third quarter. Three moves later, the Packers were playing punting for the first time; seven minutes later, 1:41 to the end of the third quarter, LA converted a two-point conversion to reduce to seven points.
It was Nervous Time at Lambeau Field, where 7,439 dusty, socially distant snow fans gathered on Saturday to represent Packer supporters everywhere in the midst of a global pandemic. However, Lazard, even in his moment of apparent ignominy, could not have been colder.
“I really am not disturbed by this,” Lazard told me in a post-game phone interview. “Just because I know it’s a fall unless I have it, and I can just move on. And I know that when the next opportunity presents itself, I’m going to make the game.”
At that moment, in an area across the hall from the Packers’ upbeat locker room, Lazard had the luxury of speaking those words with authority. Having redeemed himself by playing the game of the game, splitting a pair of defensive Rams backs and pulling a Rodgers 58-yard touchdown pass to put the finishing touch on Green Bay’s 32-18 win, the third-year receiver could look in front of the January 24 NFC Championship Game (against the winner of Sunday’s divisional round match between the New Orleans Saints and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in Lambeau) – instead of spending an off-season looking back with regret at opportunity that has slipped your hands.
This should not be confused with The look, an expression of disgust from his demanding defender, who greeted Lazard when he returned to the huddle.
“Oh, I love that glow,” Packers’ offensive coordinator, Nathaniel Hackett, joked afterwards. “You didn’t live until you did.”
Lazard understood – and lived to fight another move.
“The communication in these cases is not really verbal,” said Lazard of Rodgers’ reaction to the fall in the third quarter. “It’s more like a look. We’re both on the same page, obviously. I want to catch the ball and he wants me to catch the ball. I don’t think there needs to be anything as far as ‘Catch the ball’ or ‘Do yours.’ work ‘or anything, because he knows that I care … and people make mistakes, so you just have to move on. “
For Rodgers, a 37-year-old superstar looking for his second Super Bowl ring – and his first chance to start an NFC championship game at the stadium he loves most – the stakes were obvious. In a confrontation with Cal’s colleague Jared Goff, who performed admirably (21 to 27, 174 yards, a touchdown, without interceptions) after thumb surgery and helped give the Rams a chance to fight, Rodgers needed that his teammates braked to make sure he got the advantage.