Sidekicks Never Say Die - MISL 1987 - Part 9/9

“It was just like highway robbery what we did..." - Mark Karpun, Dallas Sidekicks.

For the first eight parts of this story, click here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8…

With 2:25 left on the clock, Kevin Smith launches a rocket toward Papaleo. Mark Karpun, in the parlance of the announcer, “sticks out a hoof” and knocks it in. Now the Sidekicks are only down by one goal. The camera lingers on Dowler, who leans against the boards on the Dallas bench. His expression is not that of a player whose team is about to win.

“The problem now was how to get the ball back. And they made a terrible mistake,” Gordon Jago said.

Žungul heads the ball over the boards with 2:16 left. He exits to the bench as Dallas gains possession.

“There’s a battle for the ball and just about every player on the team is in that penalty box. It bounces out to Tatu just long enough for him to take a rocket shot to tie it. It’s now 3-3 with 1:58 left. 20,000 people suddenly get quiet,” Balthrop remembered.

Two goals in less than a minute tie the game at 3-3. It stays that way at the end of regulation. Another day, another overtime game. Next goal wins.

In overtime, Jago decides to put Tatu and Karpun on the same line together. Normally, they wouldn’t be on the field at the same time. With just under 6:00 left in overtime, the sharp-eyed Karpun takes notice of a mismatch.

“I saw Tatu 1-on-1 with his man and I knew he would get a shot off. I just ran across the penalty box and it came right to me. Papaleo went down to block it so I just scooped it over him with my left foot,” said Karpun.

Alan Balthrop didn’t have cable TV, so he spent the night with his married sister just so he could watch the game.

“I screamed to the heavens at that point. Dead to champion in one year. I had both John Horton’s radio call on in one ear and Norm Hitzges’ television call in the other. For that entire series, John Horton had compared Dallas to Cinderella. … [His] call was, ‘This incredible story has finally come to an end, and they will live happily ever after,’” Balthrop said.

Tatu, clutching the championship trophy, is carried away on the shoulders of his teammates. Mark Karpun can’t even express his feelings in the post-game interview. He’s too tired to talk. Only later is he able to articulate what he thinks:

“It was just like highway robbery what we did. It couldn’t have been any more dramatic.”

Doc Lawson, his vision of a miracle confirmed by the day’s events, can’t quite figure out how he feels.

“As soon as I put that fat ring on my finger, I know I’ll feel it then,” Lawson tells Mike Renshaw in a post-game interview.

Jan Rogers, part-owner of the team, and savior of the Sidekicks franchise, appears on the pitch with Mike Renshaw for a post-game interview. In white pants and a silver top, she can barely contain her glee. From “dead to champion in one year” indeed, Alan Balthrop.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were the team that had been buried the year before. We weren’t supposed to exist. Not only did we sell out a couple games in the playoffs, we just upset a club with Žungul on it. With Gary Heale on it. With two all-star goalies. When Papaleo is your backup goalie, one of the great Tier One goalies of all-time. … I was just in shock,” Balthrop said.

Dowler had only admiration for the Dallas work ethic.

“They were hard to score against because they worked their socks off for each other every minute. On paper, we had to be the favorites going into that. But then again, it’s sport innit? And they showed what can be done,” Dowler said.

On Monday, the people of Dallas enjoyed their first championship parade since the Cowboy’s 1978 Super Bowl. Several Sidekicks players hoisted the championship trophy in the air from their seats in a red Ferrari at the front of the procession.

It was an improbable end to what had once seemed an impossible season. As we’ve seen, sometimes the best stories aren’t about the teams with the best players or endless dynasties that fill up rooms in Halls of Fame. The Dallas Sidekicks had the best team only for a few series of moments in 1987. But they were exactly the right moments.

But the very fact that Tacoma lost the 1987 MISL Finals with such overwhelming talent makes me want to turn the focus back on those Stars. When the Great don’t achieve Greatness, we wonder…why?

“When fans are asked, they will say, ‘The other team wanted it more.’ Well, no, NOBODY wanted it more than us. You want it SO bad. I was on the bench when Karpun scored. I just remember that gut-wrench. It’s empty. That championship you’ve worked so hard to get. To get to that point, with the never-ending playoffs, the travel, the hard work. All that to get you to that point,” Dowler said, his normally flat-line temperament wavering.

If you study a game in depth, watching each play unfold, rewind, unfold again, rewind, unfold again, then you will find a hundred moments to point a finger at: there, if only THAT hadn’t happened.

“Players get criticized for making rash tackles and getting sent off. The fans will say ‘What a stupid thing. He got sent off. We are down to 10 men, you lost us the game!’ But if they don’t make the tackle, ‘Ah, he didn’t want it. He has no drive.’ So, you can’t win,” Dowler opines.

He continues, on a roll:

“The whole game, they are making multiple decisions every second. Whatever is happening around them: does it turn out to be right or wrong? Is it good or bad? But you make it anyway. You have to. You don’t have time to sit down and think about it. That’s how the game plays out. That’s what makes it such a great spectator sport. Especially indoor soccer.”

The Dallas Sidekicks championship adds a bit of color to the MISL’s history. A few moments of something new. You need to break up the Žungul with a bit of Tatu now and then. And though Preki did not have his own championship moment in the MISL, he would get his turn in the limelight in another league, out under the sun.

Mike Dowler never got that moment.

“The disappointment goes away pretty soon. After 10 or 15 years, it’s gone,” he said, laughing.

Next Week: A story from guest writer Brian Holland: “Let There Be Rock!”