It's Doom Alone That Counts

Just one week into the two week break between conference championships and Super Bowl Sunday and I’m not sure I’m going to make it.  Despite the early line that gave the Patriots a 3.5 point advantage over the Giants, the Pigskin Pundits and Bobbleheads have convinced me.  New England has no chance to win their fourth Vince Lombardi Trophy in Super Bowl XLVI.

The Enemy of my Enemy

Has Bill Belichick given his rival and friend Mike Shanahan a call?  The Giants beat the Patriots during the regular season.  They split with the Eagles.  They swept the Cowboys.  But New York could not beat Washington.  With Rex Grossman at quarterback.  The last game the Giants lost was a road test on FedEx Field.  With Rex Grossman at quarterback.  Wouldn’t you want to know how that happened?

Everything Ends Badly

I’ve heard that everything ends badly; otherwise, it wouldn’t end.  The corollary is that if something is going to end badly, it’s best it end quickly.  At the very least, by March 8^th.

Redemption

It makes for good TV I suppose but four years hence, is Super Bowl XLVI really a rematch?  Are there really some unseen forces at work in this year’s Patriots playoff run?  Will the 2011 “Three Games to Glory” DVD end with a slow-motion montage of highlights set to Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song?”  (More likely Boston’s “More Than a Feeling.”)  It’s undeniable that emotion plays a part in the outcome of NFL games.  Not as much as a good game plan well executed on game day, of course.

“I think we’ve talked about all that. It was a long time ago. I have a lot of comments on the record after the game and everything else. You can go back and look at all the things that happened then or some other year.”

-      Bill Belichick, responding to a question about David Tyree’s catch in Super Bowl XLII

Cheating Cheaters from Cheatertonia

I don’t know if you’ve heard this before but the Patriots are cheaters.  True story.  Bill Belichick is an evil, amoral, sadistic, godless, ruthless (where’s Ruth?) creature whose only joy in life is crushing your childlike belief in the notion that cheaters never win and a winner never cheats.  He cares nothing for fair play, Jesus or if that was your bologna and pepper-jack cheese sandwich in the lunchroom fridge even if you wrote your name on the bag.  He eats kittens for breakfast.  Belichick and his minions, Brady, Matt Light, Vince Wilfork, Jerod Mayo, Gronkowski and the rest, relax in whirlpools filled with kitten blood.  And anyone who has ever seen even one episode of “Scooby Doo” knows Robert Kraft is really Old Man Smithers in a rubber Robert Kraft mask.

An Embarrassment of Riches

A co-worker swung by my office today.  He asked me if I felt bad about the way the Patriots won.

“No,” I answered, without hesitation.  Because I didn’t feel at all bad about it.

I feel pretty good about it, actually.  Why shouldn’t I?  Do you think Bill Parcells and the New York Giants felt bad when Scott Norwood’s 47-yard field goal attempt went wide right?  Did the Steelers hand the Lombardi Trophy to the Seahawks after Super Bowl XL because the referees made not one, not two, but three terrible calls that tipped the game in Pittsburgh’s favor?  No?  Yeah, I didn’t remember that happening, either. 

Hey, I’ve known loss.  Losing hurts.  I’m not going to miss rolling in it when it’s a win. If you’re a fan, you don’t make the waves, you just surf them.   

Hang ten, bra.

Shanked

Foot.  Ball.  Fate.