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At the time of our first Super Bowl, I was with a Cavalry unit deep in the Arabian Desert for the First Gulf War.  Kickoff was at something like 2:30am local time, but I was far out of TV or radio reach.  The only thing we could weakly pick up sometimes on a shortwave radio was the BBC World Service, which didn't usually cover American sports.   Nonetheless, I asked the soldiers on radio watch that night to wake me up if they heard anything.  

 

Just before dawn, one of my soldiers shook me violently as I lay asleep, "Sir!  Wake up!  The Bills won!  The Bills won!"

 

I jumped out of my cot and asked him the final score.  But he seemed confused.  When I pressed him, he admitted the signal from BBC World Service was full of static and he wasn't sure what the announcer actually said.  Something about a last-second field goal.


Frantic, I called higher headquarters on the army FM radio but they hadn't gotten an update.  So I glued myself to the shortwave radio, listening to the BBC.  There was so much hissing and crackling, I only understood maybe 1 word in 10.  But finally, hours later, came the crushing disappointment.  To this day, I've never watched a replay of that game and never will.  

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