Great Games in Penn History: Nov. 22, 1986

The sights and sounds of the final 10 seconds tell the story of the titanic Penn-Cornell clash in 1986. Both teams had 6-0 Ivy League records going in. The Quakers were gunning for a fifth straight Ivy title and a perfect 10-0 record. ITHACA, N.Y. -- Ten. That's what the scoreboard clock read. Ten seconds left in the game. Ten seconds left in the season. Ten seconds left until the dream that had been built day by day throughout the 1986 football season was to become a reality for the Pennsylvania Quakers. The scoreboard also showed a score that was all too familiar to the Quakers and their fans. The one that had the Quakers ahead of the other team. It read simply "Cornell 21, Visitors 31." Nine. On the Crescent Side of Schoellkopf Field, all you could see from the end zone to the 35-yard line were students. Penn students. Jubilant Penn students, who have tasted nothing in recent years but the thrill of victory, were ready to claim their fifth straight Ivy League championship by performing what has become a tradition at Penn -- tearing down the goal posts. Eight. The Cornell fans sat in silence. In eight seconds, they would have to face the reality of what could have been. What should have been had it not been for the impenetrable Quakers defense and the unstoppable Penn offense. They had their dreams. They had their fantasies. But so did Penn. And what Cornell didn't realize was that once the Quakers tasted their chance at a perfect season, nobody was to deny them their just desserts. Seven. The Cornell fans were violent and frustrated. Unable to beat Penn on the field, they decided to try to regain any pride they might have left. Snowballs abounded. Tempers flared. A force of Big Red students gathered to defend their goal posts from the evil Quakers fans. But it was to no avail. The game was just about over. The season was over. For Cornell, the dream was over. Six. But for the Quakers, the dream was anything but over. And old man wearing nothing but Red and Blue greeted his friend, who was dressed in Big Red garb, by pouring a bottle of champagne over his head. "Welcome to Pennsylvania," he said. Five. Penn's fans began to count down. A countdown to what they had been waiting for all season. Perfection. And then, only moments away, the Quakers and their fans could do nothing but wait. "I'm watching the clock," one fan said. "I want to make sure it doesn't stop." Four. It was time to start celebrating. All the questions had been answered. All the critics had been silenced. It was time to face the joyous reality of being 10-0. "We had no doubt of losing," Penn linebacker Brad Hippenstiel said of Saturday's game. "But even near the end, we couldn't celebrate because we knew there was the chance that we'd have to go back on the field. "I wasn't convinced and excited until there were about three or four seconds left." Three. Penn linebacker A.J. Sebastianelli had three seconds before he could officially claim the Ivy League championship. But it would be hours before he would realize it. "It's gonna take some time for all this to sink in," he said. "We've been building to 10-0 all year, but Coach Zubrow had told us to take things one day at a time." Those days were over. It had been only a matter of time until Penn claimed its fifth Ivy League championship, and time had just about run out. Sebastianelli summed it up well: "This team was destined to go 10-0." Two. Quakers running back Chris Flynn was experiencing what he calls "the best feeling he's ever had." And with good reason. Sure the Quakers had won championships before. Sure they had gone undefeated in the Ivy League before. But there they were, seconds away from the only improvement that they could have made on their past performances -- a perfect season. One. Penn quarterback Jim Crocicchia took the final snap of his collegiate career and fell on the ball. He got up, raised his arms in the air, and let out a jubilant yell. Then he stopped a moment to soak in the atmosphere and to cherish what had happened. He looked around at the sidelines, the scoreboard and the fans. "I'm never taking this off," he said of his number-seven jersey. "This has been a dream season." Zero. The final gun sounded. It was over. The season of destiny was over. For Ed Zubrow -- a man who took on the responsibility of keeping alive an incredible tradition, a man who performed the impossible task of taking a great team and making it better, a man who had taken his season day by day and never looked ahead to being undefeated -- it was time to reflect on some achievements. "To tell you the truth," Zubrow said, "I didn't think about winning the championship until the final whistle blew. But now, the emotion is so deep it hasn't even hit me yet. It is just great to be everything we had wanted to be. "It's going to be a fun trip home." A fun trip indeed, for the Quakers have no regrets about the 1986 season. No matter how you look at it you'll see that the Quakers had a perfect season. They did just about everything possible. Except lose.