The Associated Press

The Rams aren’t really playing in their first Super Bowl, but they might as well be.

Wednesday, January 26, 2000

The Rams aren’t really playing in their first Super Bowl, but they might as well be. Their only previous appearance came in 1980, when they were still in Los Angeles and St. Louis belonged to the football Cardinals.

The Titans are neophytes, playing in their first Super Bowl as Tennessee’s team or their previous incarnation as the Houston Oilers.

”I’ve never seen this much media,” Sanders said. ”I’m taping everything.”

But, with memories of the Atlanta Falcons still fresh on their minds, both the Rams and Titans declared a moratorium on anything that might be construed as controversial.

No dog collars. No insults. No guaranteed victories.

”We want to be careful in what we say and what we do,” Tennessee receiver Derrick Mason said. ”We don’t want to say anything about the Rams that might get them motivated.”

Not even an appearance by Mr. Dog Collar himself, Falcons cornerback Ray Buchanan, could produce the slightest of trash talk at the Georgia Dome.

A year ago, Buchanan first guaranteed a victory over the Denver Broncos, then arrived for interviews wearing silver-studded neckwear as a way of dramatizing his team’s underdog role.

Instead of being motivated, the Falcons suffered a major meltdown, losing 34-19.

”We’re not going to do stuff like that,” Williams said. ”We’re going first class to get the job done. We respect our fine opponent, the Tennessee Titans.”

Not the kind of talk you’d get from Deion Sanders or Jim McMahon. Then again, this game just doesn’t have the star power of past Super Bowls.

Many reporters kept glancing at the one-page rosters that were handed out at the Georgia Dome, trying to figure out who they were talking to.

No. 77. Who’s that?

Long before each team exhausted its one-hour session, the crowd in front of most podiums went from thick to thin. Soon, reporters were interviewing each other, pointing microphones toward players-turned-commentators like Joe Theismann, Jim Kelly and Ron Jaworski.

”They don’t know how to get wild down here,” said Falcons offensive tackle Bob Whitfield, taking a break from his day job to play pseudo-journalist. ”As soon as they remembered Ray in that dumb collar, they said, ‘We’re not going to sell out like that.”’

Indeed, both teams seemed to learn from the Falcons’ self-destruction.

Atlanta’s players were bickering when they got off the plane. Terance Mathis decided it was the proper time to discuss a heretofore unknown alcohol problem. Buchanan said Denver tight end Shannon Sharpe looked like a Kentucky Derby entry.

Worst of all, Eugene Robinson was arrested the night before the game on a charge of soliciting sex from an undercover police officer.

Titans coach Jeff Fisher asked his players to please refrain from those type of antics.

”He told us to enjoy the moment,” cornerback Samari Rolle said, ”but don’t get silly about it.”

Buchanan, who also wound up with a journalist’s pass around his neck instead of something studded, did his best to dress down the formal atmosphere.

”These guys look a little tense, a little intense,” he said. ”They need to loosen up, have some fun.”

So Buchanan waded into a group of reporters surrounding Titans safety Blaine Bishop, armed with a microphone from the Black Entertainment Television network.

”You should be loose. There should be a smile on your face,” Buchanan advised, grinning mischievously.

”I’m pretty loose,” Bishop responded, managing a weak smile.

”Just don’t guarantee a victory,” Buchanan quipped.

”Oh, no,” Bishop said. ”I would never do that. Not with all the weapons they have.”

With those kind of answers, it was not surprising that yet another guest journalist, Dallas Cowboys lineman Nate Newton, seemed bored by the whole affair.

”This media stuff,” he complained, ”is not all it’s cracked up to be.”