Sports Illustrated Special - Super Bowl LVI Commemorative (2022)

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him to the Rams. He took the replica Lombardi Trophy

he had made and placed it just outside the team’s equip-

ment room, where his teammates would see it, daily,

as they headed back to the locker room. Most days,

he would attach a different note. Like: if you were

waiting to have your best game, this is it. Or:

maximum effort.

After speaking with McVay that Thursday, he waited.

His coach had not confirmed the timetable; he had not

said when he planned to deliver his own plea.

This being 2022, the meeting that afternoon was held

over videoconference, everyone watching from different

rooms inside the same building in Thousand Oaks. This

is Miller’s recollection of what happened next: His coach

told his teammates that he was certain of their align-

ment, that if he asked any of them what they needed to

do to win that Sunday, all would know, without doubt

or hesitation. McVay called out Aaron Donald first. “AD,

what do we have to do to win this game?”

“Dominate,” Donald instantly responded.

McVay turned next to left tackle Andrew W hitworth.

McVay asked Whitworth the same question.

“Win the one-on-ones,” Whitworth said.

Eric Weddle, the veteran safety the Rams lured out

of retirement in January, went next.

“We gotta go out there and make plays,” he answered.

“Everybody was in alignment,” Miller says. Just as

his coach had predicted at the meeting’s outset, the tie

important, with the potential to propel them forward,

upward, onward.

After several other players responded, McVay went for

the crescendo. He didn’t ask the Rams to close their eyes

like Ware had implored the Broncos. But he did reach

behind his desk and grab a trophy. It wasn’t Miller’s

replica; it was the Rams’ Lombardi. They had won it

in the 1999 season, playing in St. Louis.

“Von,” McVay said, “this is not the replica; this is

the real thing.”

McVay placed the trophy on his desk and guess what

Miller heard? Clank.

Nobody touched the Lombardi on the way to practice.

But all the Rams walked by it; some gazed, others danced

or bowed. Miller paused, a veteran now, taking in the

significance. While he wasn’t there all season, he had

been a Ram for about 10 weeks, and he couldn’t remem-

ber a better, more productive workout session. “It had

the same type of feeling as the other speech,” he says.

At that point, the Rams resembled a carbon copy

of the Broncos in several important ways. They had a

veteran quarterback seeking a ring before retirement

(Matthew Stafford now, Manning then), a dominant

defense featuring a future Hall of Famer (Donald now,

Ware then) and Miller, elite wide receivers, a strong

running game, and the kind of momentum that height-

ened Super Bowl aspirations. At that point, to keep

the parallel alive, all the Rams had to do was show up

against the 49ers and win.

Which they did. Think of the last clinching play: the

pressure from Donald (win the one-on-ones), the inter-

ception by Howard (gotta go out there and make plays)

and the Super Bowl berth secured (dominate, kinda),

along with the celebration and the harkening back to

the new version of The Speech.

Speaking of, Miller had noticed one other detail

about the trophy from Super Bowl XXXIV. It wasn’t

shiny; certainly not shiny enough. He paused the day of

The Speech, struck by a sentiment, understanding better

than the majority of his teammates that only smudges

can steal a Lombardi Trophy’s shine. Each fingertip or

lip smear told a story: of a player and how they fit into

that particular team and how that particular team put

together a special season. Like those Broncos. And these

Rams. “It just had this energy about it,” Miller says,

meaning the trophy in that moment. “It just felt like,

no matter what people do, this is not going anywhere.

The 1999 Rams are going to have this forever.”

He had continued to deliver similar reminders. Yes,

San Francisco had won six straight. But all the Rams

needed to do now, on this Sunday, was win once, when it

mattered most. And when they did, Miller’s parallel

to 2015 continued, while, thinking ahead to the

Super Bowl, his aims changed and grew.

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“IT JUST HAD THIS ENERGY ABOUT IT,” MILLER SAID OF

THE LOMBARDI TROPHY. “IT JUST FELT LIKE, NO MATTER WHAT

PEOPLE DO, THIS IS NOT GOING ANYWHERE.”