Monday, February 04, 2008

Extra! Extra! UPSET FOR THE AGES

My feeling going into the game was, "I'm more of an anti-Patriots fan than a pro-Giants fan". My feelings after that game? I can't help but marvel at the classic that unfolded, from the miraculous-did you just see that?-plays (that elusive Quarterback and That Catch) to everything else in between. Those last two and a half minutes were perhaps among the longest two and a half sports minutes I have ever witnessed. That excitement left me struck to the core, fingers shaking, breath unsteady.

This was a Superbowl that any fan could not only enjoy, but revel in. Even if you are a Patriots fan, admit it. You might not have liked the outcome, but you can appreciate the entertainment it provided the rest of us. Coming from a Rams fan, you should just accept quietly. We, too, know the agony of unfathomable defeat. The bitterness of upset. The rollercoaster of emotions from the highest of the high, to ultimately, the lowest of the low. We felt like Superbowl 36 could not possibly be over when it was. We simply hadn't anticipated a loss. It was like we were just warming up when it ended. If you could've just extended time and let your beloved players fulfill their promise! But no, that's not how it works. And while the Patriots at least had their last shot with the final possession of the football in Superbowl 42, the Rams of Superbowl 36 weren't granted that opportunity. I truely believe that had the high flying Rams of '01 had their own final possession, they could've scored. I'm pretty sure every single defeated Superbowl team feels that way, so you can understand why it's hard to let go. And of course, the Rams didn't get their chance and the Patriots won. I know, I know. I sound like a bitter fan (and perhaps I am). I do realize that's just the way life goes sometimes. Your storybook seasons don't always end your way. It's just another chapter in someone else's happy ending. No matter how much you pray or scream or cry or act humbly, there is no reversal of fortunes. Just another loss to be highlighted in the football reels until the end of time.

I know the awful pain you are in, but alas, I cannot feel sorry for you. It hasn't been pretty for a few years now. Following their defeat of the Rams, New Englanders took on the role of a spoiled overnight child star. There was no graciousnous. They couldn't simply appreciate their good fortune in beating the heavily favored Rams and shut up. They had to mock us. Rams fans, on the other hand, while not perfect, will tell you they appreciate the great game the Tennessee Titans helped us deliver in '99. We felt fortunate enough to win after the season we had the year before. We appreciated it and walked off into the sunset. I never went out of my way to gloat to Titans' fans. Instead, I'd always wanted to get their perspective on that last courageous drive.

I've listened to New England's cocky fans revel in our own uncensored shock and others' misery for too long. I've watched the oversaturated media coverage of your own victories repeatedly shown until I've taken up the habit of turning away whenever I see another Superbowl 36 highlight reel coming on. I've seen New England fans gloat over one too many Superbowl (and World friggin' Series) victories to feel sorry for them. Perfection will not be yours. Not this year. The only blemish in your win-loss column happened to be the most important and largest you'd like to erase. A superbowl loss.

On the other side of that is the jubilant winner, of course-a side the New England Patriots have become accustomed to being on. I'd like to extend a whole hearted congratulations to the Giants. Rather than belittle their victory into a Patriots' loss, or say they had one too many balls bounce their way, I believe the better team won tonight. As a St. Louis Cardinals fan, I cannot articulate how frustrating it is to still hear people claim the '06 Cardinals were the worst World Series team to win and they just got lucky. But luck can only carry you so far as you allow it. Yes, the Cardinals were lucky. But every sports team that has ever won a championship has had luck on their side. Look no further than the Patriots-Raiders AFC championship, where, were it not for the "tuck rule", the Raiders probably would've been the victors. This year's Patriots would not have been undefeated until this point had it not been for luck. But although it is an important factor, you cannot win on luck alone. Winning championships are about hard work, taking advantage of the opportunities granted to you and, yes, even luck. The planets were simply aligned for the Giants.

I appreciated this game for all that was riding on it. For the supreme beings that were the Patriots and the belittled underdogs, an unfamiliar territory for a NY team, in the Giants. The game did not let down. It built and built until a climactic ending left us all breathless, a silent shock more resounding after time had run out than any screaming heard during regulation.

And how do you describe that play? The one in which Eli Manning escaped in a magician-like manner. There you saw him, about to tumble down with the Giants' season, and there you didn't, escaping and slipping through the battle weary hands of a half dozen Patriots. On third-and-5 with 59 seconds remaining, the ball sailed through the air covering 32 yards and, as if prompted by a sheer fear of God, David Tyree made one of the most breath-taking catches in modern NFL history on the biggest sports stage. With Rodney Harrison, the leader of the Patriots' Defense covering him, Tyree reached up to seal the Giants' fate, finger tips securing a football over the back of his head in an astonishing play that could half jokingly and half seriously be called back-breaking. The rest is literally history. And just like that, David Tyree will remain legend for the rest of his life no matter what happens here on out. Ask Mike Jones.

Do I feel a slight redemption for our own Superbowl loss? Perhaps. Will I sleep better tonight knowing the fans of New England can finally remember what losing in a heart-breaking fashion feels like? *smile* But is this about six years ago? No. It's about now. The Patriots lost, the dynasty has ended, the empire has fallen. Forget 19-0. The only numbers that count are Giants 17, Patriots 14.

My sister sauntered into my room well after the game had ended, still in shock, still happy beyond the smile that graced her face, and jubilantly proclaimed, "I wonder how they (Patriots' fans) are going to sleep tonight? I hope they have nightmares."

But I think it's safe to say, following one of the greatest upsets in Superbowl history, they've already had one.

No comments:

Like everyone else, I am going to die. But the words – the words live on
for as long as there are readers to see them, audiences to hear them. It is
immortality by proxy. It is not really a bad deal, all things considered.
-J. Michael Straczynski

Powered By Blogger