Not since the Immaculate Reception has a single play in a Steelers game earned the right to be named.
Start with the odds. Chris Boswell misses an extra point roughly once in 100 tries. Tyler Loop — a rookie, but highly accurate — misses only about one in 10 field-goal attempts. For both to happen consecutively, in the final two minutes, with first place in the division on the line, is about one in 100 games. This stretches probability to its breaking point. Multiply it out 100 x 10 x 100 and you land at roughly 100,000 to 1.
It was a play that may happen once in a generation. It was: the “Missed Shot” heard ’round Steeler Nation.
Then comes the detail you can’t ignore.
Before kickoff, a priest sprinkled holy water on that same end zone. Later, with the game balanced on his foot, Loop’s kick sailed just off the right upright.
Football is built on preparation and precision. Yet its most memorable moments live where chance and belief collide.
Some historic plays earn names. This one came with its own prayer, now etched in steel and disbelief:
Off Right the Upright. Amen.
Or simply: the Amen Play.
Al Viviano
Tampa, Fla.