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Behind 12-10, Hostetler and the New York offense opened the second half at their own twenty-four-yard line. From the outset, they did not seem to heed their head coach’s advice. An incompletion, a false-start penalty, and a short screen play left the Giants with a difficult third and eight, deep inside their own territory. But an elusive catch-and-run by Dave Meggett—he caught the pass several yards shy of the first-down marker, then ran through the tackles of two Buffalo defenders—kept the drive alive. Within a few minutes, the man who Meggett often relieved did the same.

Ottis Anderson carried the ball just seven times in the first half: not nearly as many carries as he would have expected given the orders Bill Parcells issued that week.

“Parcells said, ‘We just gonna pound [you] to death,’” Anderson remembered. “And we wanna know what plays you’re comfortable with because we gonna run those fifteen to thirty times a game until we wear ’em down. . . . How you feel about that?’ I said ‘Bill, I’m ready to play; whatever you do is fine by me, and I look forward to the challenge.’”

Falling behind by nine points, coupled with the necessary pass-heavy approach on the drive late in the second quarter, limited Anderson’s touches. Still, he had been extremely efficient on those seven runs, gaining just under six yards per carry.

As the second half unfolded, the Giants would lean on their thirty-four-year-old veteran. Two plays after Meggett’s pickup, the offense faced another big play: third down and one near midfield. From a two–tight end, single-back formation, Hostetler gave the ball to Anderson. With such a short distance needed for the Giants to gain the first down, the Bills looked to condense the center of the field. They expected Anderson to pound the ball up the middle. But the Giants gambled, running the ball to the outside. With left guard William Roberts leading, Anderson moved patiently, parallel to the line of scrimmage, then turned upfield, bursting through the hole for a huge gain. And much like his counterpart, Thurman Thomas, who had accentuated several runs with forearm shivers to approaching defenders, Anderson pounded safety Mark Kelso with an uppercut just before being dragged to the ground. The twenty-four-yard pickup advanced New York into field-goal range.

Watching the hard-nosed third-down efforts from Meggett and Anderson pleased Parcells, who expected nothing less. His “power football” philosophy did not just apply to the running backs, who made up such an integral part of the Giants offense.

Amassing 121 catches, twelve touchdowns, and more than eighteen hundred yards earned tight end Mark Bavaro first-team all-pro honors in 1986 and 1987. But his primary objective was to block. The same was true for Howard Cross and Bob Mrosko, New York’s other tight ends, who combined for just eleven catches that season.

“I understood we were a running team more than a passing team,” Bavaro said years later. “I loved Ron Erhardt’s offense. I enjoyed blocking, and I enjoyed catching passes. Ron required both from his tight ends. I liked the fact that tight end on the Giants was a multidimensional position. As far as stats went, I knew my receiving production in 1990 was less than in 1986. But stats didn’t mean much to us overall. What meant everything was winning or losing.”

That unselfish attitude filled the entire Giants’ offensive huddle.

Throughout the 1980s, individual passing and receiving records were continually broken, rewritten, and broken again. As the pro game morphed into a pass-first, run-second league, the obdurate Bill Parcells remained wedded to his style. Fortunately, his receivers bought into it.

“We went 13-3 this season,” Stephen Baker said, “so I can’t complain. Hey, I’d rather win 13 games and not get so many catches than make a lot of catches and have a losing season. Winning is really what counts the most.”

Both Baker (third round) and wide receiver teammate