One yard. I said it on the Rams page from their side, and now I owe Tennessee the other side of it. Super Bowl XXXIV, January 2000, last play of the game, the Titans down by seven and driving. Steve McNair finds Kevin Dyson on a slant near the goal line. Dyson turns, reaches, and Rams linebacker Mike Jones wraps his legs and drags him down with the ball a single yard from a tie. The clock hits zero. 23-16.

One trip, decided by the length of an arm

It is the only Super Bowl this franchise has reached. As the Houston Oilers, in an earlier life, they never made it. As the Tennessee Titans they got there once, and lost by the distance between a man’s outstretched hand and the line. Football has not produced a crueler finish, and I include my own missed kick in that. At least our ball never got that close.

Why it lands so hard

A yard is nothing. A yard is everything. The Titans were a yard from forcing overtime in a Super Bowl and a linebacker took it away with a perfect tackle. Titans fans, you have one trip and it ended on the most agonizing play imaginable. I know about endings you cannot rewrite. Yours is measured in inches. So is mine. Different inches, same hollow feeling.