These days, I struggle to not forget what I go into the next room for, but I can remember watching the game on TV with Dad like it was yesterday. On the old black and white console, with rabbit ears, no less!
I had asked him a question or made a remark about it looking like 'smoke' being in the stands, and him explaining how cold it was, how you 'see your breath' in cold weather, how we had no idea what that kind of cold felt like, and more.
It was also the first time I learned just how important having the will to win was, and being able to summon courage under the most extreme circumstances when the other guys were giving up is the stuff manly men are made from.
That final drive is the single greatest drive in the history of football. Period.