25 years ago, Patriots won infamous 'Snowplow Game'

It has gone down as one of the most memorable drives in New England Patriots history. 

Playing in a raging Nor’easter, the Miami Dolphins and Patriots were scoreless late into the fourth quarter. Patriots coach Ron Meyer turned to the stadium’s snowplow operator and directed him to plow a spot on the field for placekicker John Smith.

“If it hadn’t been for the snowplow, it probably wouldn’t have been a memorable game,” former New England Patriots quarterback Steve Grogan said, reflecting on the Dec. 12, 1982, matchup from the Grogan Marciano Sporting Goods store he owns and operates in Mansfield, Mass.

The snowplow was a John Deere tractor. The driver was one Mark Henderson, a convicted burglar on work release from the Walpole State Prison who didn’t seem the least bit concerned with the vehement objections the Dolphins and their coach Don Shula were directing at him on that day nearly a quarter of a century ago.

“Like Mark Henderson said,” Grogan chuckled, “what were they going to do, put him in jail?”

Shula was crying for justice when he addressed the press after his team’s 3-0 loss to the Patriots.

“Somebody in New England is going to have to live with it,” Shula fumed in the immediate aftermath. “Whoever ordered it or told the guy to do it has got to think long and hard about the ramifications of something like that.”

The statute of limitations has long since expired.

“Twenty-five years,” said Grogan. “It’s amazing it’s been that long.”

It was Smith whose 33-yard snow boot into a 20 mile-per-hour wind with 4:10 to play provided the margin of victory in front of 25,716 hardy souls (only 34,677 tickets were actually sold) as Meyer’s Patriots weathered the storm.

But it was Henderson who paved the way to victory in the “Snowplow Game.”

With a timeout on the field and traction at his feet, he carried out his assignment, clearing off an area for holder Matt Cavanaugh to spot the ball for the left-footed Smith.

“As I look at it now, I see the clips of the guy, Meyer signaling for him to go out there and he’s making the horseshoe. It’s funny as hell,” said Patriots executive director of community affairs Andre Tippett, a young linebacker on that 1982 New England team who drew the most of his playing time on special teams. “It’s funny as hell when I see it, but what are you going to do?”

The humor was lost on Shula, who took steps before the start of the ’83 season to assure that Henderson’s path would never be followed.

“They made all kinds of rules,” Grogan said, “to make sure it would never happen again.”

Yes, long before he was involved in talk about “Spygate” and possibly placing an asterisk alongside the 2007 Patriots’ record, Shula wanted to plant a snowball in Meyer’s kisser.

“The one thing I’ll always remember about that game and it’s continued to this point,” said Steve Nelson, an inside linebacker on that 1982 team. “Don Shula is reluctant to say Ron Meyer’s name publicly.”

Shula didn’t have to wait for the offseason to exact his revenge on New England, gaining it on Jan. 8, 1983, when his ’Fins put the finishing touches on the Patriots’ campaign by handing them a 28-13 loss at the Orange Bowl.

David Woodley threw for 234 and two touchdowns in the opening round of the Super Bowl XVII Tournament that followed a regular season that a 57-day players’ association strike had shortened to nine games.

Nearly 25 years later, that postseason matchup is recalled – if, at all – as just another in a long line of NFL playoff games.

Like each snowflake that fell on Dec. 12, 1982, though, the regular-season game played in Foxboro less than a month earlier was unique.

With Grogan throwing just five times in the game (Woodley threw only six), completing all of two to tight end Lin Dawson for 13 yards, the fullback tandem of Mark van Eeghen and Mosi Tatupu carried the bulk of the workload for the Patriots, combining to carry 35 times for 181 yards.

Born in Pago Pago, raised in Hawaii and a product of the University of Southern California, Tatupu’s unlikely work in football winter wonderlands ultimately earned him the nickname the “Snowin’ Samoan.”

“Here’s a guy from Hawaii, who played his college ball in Southern California, and he was the best running back you ever saw in the snow,” Grogan said. “He had those wide feet and ran with those short steps. It was fun to see.”

For all the moves Tatupu made on the field, though, the game-deciding move came from the sideline when Henderson stepped on the gas and exhibited breakaway speed.

“It’s funny,” said Tippett, “but when you’re into the game, you’re playing, you tend to miss a lot of the things that happen. It was probably one of those things that I didn’t realize what had gone on until after the game. You’re like, ‘We did what?’

“You look back on it now and it was something that happened in the heat of the moment. A decision was made,” Tippett said. “In typical fashion of what has happened in the past, past history, it just goes down as part of folklore. And I was there. (It was) my rookie year.”

It’s folklore, all right.

At this point, even some of the main characters in this pigskin parody have difficulty separating football fact from fiction.

“To tell you the truth, at this point I don’t remember if it was my idea or Ron Meyer’s. I just remember running down and telling the guy to go on the field. I did wave him on the field,” Grogan said. “He had the tractor running, put it in gear, and he was off.”

The Enterprise