Super Bowl VII: The Crown Jewel of Perfection
Super Bowl VII, held on January 14, 1973, at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, was more than just a championship game. It was the culmination of the Miami Dolphins’ unprecedented pursuit of perfection. Facing off against the Washington Redskins, the Dolphins emerged victorious with a 14-7 win, sealing the NFL’s only perfect season at 17-0. This was a game of grit, determination, and a touch of the bizarre—a hallmark of NFL history.
The Dolphins entered the game as the first team in NFL history to win all 14 regular-season games, two playoff matchups, and advance to the Super Bowl. Yet, despite their spotless record, they weren’t overwhelming favorites. The Redskins, led by head coach George Allen and their “Over-the-Hill Gang” defense, were a formidable foe. Washington had bulldozed its way to an 11-3 regular-season record and a dominant playoff run, but on this sunny day in Los Angeles, they were up against a juggernaut.
Miami’s head coach, Don Shula, had a personal vendetta to settle. Two years earlier, his Baltimore Colts had been stunned by Joe Namath’s New York Jets in Super Bowl III. This was his chance at redemption. Meanwhile, quarterback Bob Griese, who had returned late in the season after a broken ankle, was eager to showcase his precision passing and game management skills. Complementing Griese was the powerful duo of Larry Csonka and Mercury Morris, who had steamrolled defenses all year with their punishing ground game.
From the outset, it was clear that Miami had a plan: control the clock and dominate on defense. The Dolphins’ first touchdown came courtesy of Howard Twilley, who hauled in a beautifully placed pass from Griese. That connection capped off a drive so methodical it could have been mistaken for a tutorial on how to dismantle a defense.
But the real story of Super Bowl VII was Miami’s defense, the aptly nicknamed “No-Name Defense.” Led by linebacker Nick Buoniconti and safety Jake Scott, the unit rendered Washington’s offense impotent. Redskins quarterback Billy Kilmer had a day he’d probably rather forget, completing just 14 of 28 passes for 104 yards and three interceptions. The No-Name Defense smothered Washington’s running game and blanketed receivers, making every yard a struggle.
In the second quarter, Miami extended their lead when running back Jim Kiick plunged into the end zone from one yard out. With a 14-0 halftime lead, the Dolphins looked unstoppable. The Redskins, however, refused to quit. Their defense tightened in the second half, forcing the Dolphins into three punts and holding them scoreless.
Then came one of the most infamous plays in Super Bowl history: Garo’s Gaffe. Late in the fourth quarter, Miami’s Garo Yepremian lined up for a field goal that would have effectively sealed the game. Instead, the kick was blocked, and what followed defied belief. Yepremian attempted to bat the ball forward, only to fumble it hilariously into the hands of Washington’s Mike Bass, who sprinted 49 yards for a touchdown. In an instant, the Redskins had life, cutting the lead to 14-7.
The play—equal parts comedy and catastrophe—momentarily turned the momentum. Yepremian’s misadventure is immortalized in NFL lore, with Garo himself later joking, “It was the only pass I ever threw, and I completed it to the wrong guy.”
Despite the mishap, Miami’s defense rose to the occasion, as they had all season. With time ticking away, Washington’s final drive ended in futility, and the Dolphins emerged unscathed, their perfect season intact.
After the game, Don Shula’s jubilation was evident. The victory not only exorcised the ghosts of Super Bowl III but also cemented his legacy as one of the greatest coaches of all time. “It’s not just about winning,” Shula said. “It’s about doing it the right way, and these men did it perfectly.”
Super Bowl VII remains a milestone in NFL history, not just because of Miami’s achievement but because of the game’s human drama. It was a contest that showcased brilliance and folly, dominance and resilience. The Dolphins’ perfect season is still the standard by which greatness is measured, and their triumph that day in Los Angeles is a reminder that in football, as in life, perfection is rare but possible.
The Miami Dolphins of 1972 didn’t just win games; they etched their names into immortality. And while Garo’s Gaffe will always elicit chuckles, the legacy of Super Bowl VII is no laughing matter. It’s the story of a team that refused to lose and a moment in time when the pursuit of perfection met its ultimate reward.