Only in a football game’s closing seconds can a certain clarity emerge. At this point, the focus switches from the story to the route and execution becomes more important than noise. Taco Dowler extended Montana State’s season into eternity on January 5th, inside a crowded FirstBank Stadium in Nashville, by catching a pass on fourth and ten. Not only did the catch end a 41-year wait, but it also won a football game because to its deliberate precision and low dive at the pylon.
The play itself was of the type that would look stunning in slow motion. A receiver running into the soft edge of the end zone, a crisp flag route, a spiral from quarterback Justin Lamson, and a clean snap. It wasn’t made up. There was no desperation. Perhaps more significantly, it was trusted and practiced. All season long, the quarterback-receiver trust had been growing steadily and silently, and it manifested itself at the right time.
McLean, whose real name is Taco Dowler, is not a person who chases attention. Despite recording 111 receiving yards, 22 rushing yards, and two touchdowns overall in a championship game, he refused to answer questions regarding his nickname after the game. He grinned dryly and remarked, “I hope they don’t ask me about the name Taco.” It’s absurd, don’t you think?
Even after a title-sealing play, that modesty says a lot. especially in combination with his composure on the field. Dowler performed as though he was conscious of the stakes but not burdened by them from the very first snap. He got out to a fast start, rescuing the Bobcats from an early second-and-23 deficit with a 26-yard gain, and he didn’t let up. Every reception seemed incredibly successful in changing momentum at crucial times as well as gaining yards.
Profile Table
| Name | McLean “Taco” Dowler |
|---|---|
| Position | Wide Receiver, Montana State Bobcats |
| Date of Birth | June 28, 2003 |
| Hometown | Billings, Montana |
| Notable Moment | Game-winning overtime TD in 2026 FCS Championship |
| Twin Brother | Caden Dowler |
| Social Media Handle | @taco.dowler (Instagram), @DowlerTaco (X) |
| External Source | ESPN Profile: www.espn.com/college-football/player/_/id/4685170 |
The last time Montana State had a national championship was in 1984. Fans, coaches, and players were all burdened by the disparity. Lamson and Dowler, however, made it appear remarkably manageable throughout the game, particularly in the first half. Lamson completed 12 of his first 13 passes, earning him the title of Most Outstanding Player. Many of those tosses went directly to Dowler, who was equally comfortable carving open space up the sidelines and across the middle of the field.
The Bobcats led 21-7 at halftime. College football, especially when it comes to championship football, is rarely stable. The state of Illinois retaliated. It was tied twice. On one occasion, they came close to taking the lead before a field goal was blocked. Next was overtime.
A heated exchange ensued—touchdown, missed extra point, penalty, reset. The spotlight was leaning in on Lamson as he held the ball on fourth down. And Dowler bolted for the corner without blinking. The remainder has been inscribed in school history.
There was something particularly captivating about Montana State’s performance under duress. Instead of using devious tactics or reckless wagers, they relied on the players who had quietly performed throughout the season. Dowler was not named an All-American. Most preseason lists didn’t even include him. However, he became the anchor on the largest stage.
During the news conference after the game, Lamson said, “We kept asking, who’s going to be the spark? Without saying anything further, he nodded and grinned at Dowler.
His statement caused me to pause, silently reflecting on how uncommon it is to see teammates recognize one another in that way.
Beyond just his stats, Dowler had a significant impact on the game. He had incredibly clear movement off the ball, frequently luring opponents into mismatches and creating space for others. Even his one and only attempt at rushing—a fallaway dive into the end zone—occurred at a pivotal moment. Hundreds of unseen hours, the kind of preparation that rarely makes headlines but wins games, established the rhythm of his routes and the timing of his breaks.
This triumph was very significant for reasons other than the score. Through patience, strategy, and the timely rise of players like Dowler, Montana State was able to get to that point. His rise from Billings to this national prominence is more about skill than flare. His height does not match that of a typical star receiver. He has a good football IQ, a strong work ethic, and the ability to read defenses in mid-stride.
And a championship ring now.
His last touchdown, which was low and purposeful and went past the left pylon, seemed to represent his entire strategy. Nothing needless. Don’t flourish. simple execution. Just enough.
As others dashed for the cameras and confetti, Dowler retreated into the crowd on the sidelines, his turf-marked jersey and helmet under his arm. You could see that he was mentally rehearsing the journey.
That thought persisted. It was striking, not because it was theatrical, but because it encapsulated a quality that is sometimes absent from contemporary sports narratives: quiet perfection.
Taco Dowler may not enjoy the moniker, but it is now associated with one of the most incredible comebacks in FCS playoff history. It wasn’t because he yelled the loudest, but rather because he made the perfect move.
And for Montana State, that timing was crucial after forty years of nearly—but not quite.
