Stunned Silence

  There we sat, a world of fans and football watches, casual observers and die hards alike.  It was a moment of silence, a single moment in history when we knew not what to say.  Tom Brady, hero of a hundred games and MVP, stepped back, and lobbed it deep.  Here and now, the hail marry to end it all.  It was simple, these were the Patriots.  Moss was going to catch it, shake a safety and trot into the endzone. The cannons would sound, the confetti would fall and the champions would revel.  It was all planned out, the hats were ready, the books printed the papers fresh off the press.  It was all as was ordained.  The Perfect Patriots, the champions of the world, the heroes of the NFL universe.  We all were to bask in the perfection of their season.  The perfect franchise, the greatest dynasty.

 And then something happened, the ball fell to the ground, no flag, no mystery calls.  Silence, for just a moment.  New England was defeated, the monster lay slain.  As one second ticked off, and then back on, the clock, the game ended.  Three fourth quarter changes in the lead, one amazing helmet-pinned catch.  Like the Tackle, and the Catch, this moment is forever.  Eli Manning dropping back, the pressure, the pass the catch.  It wasn't a touchdown, it wasn't the last play of the game, but it was symbolic of everything that happened this Sunday.  It was improbable, impossible and no one believed it happened.  I was on my feet, floored.  And there you have it, 17-14, the Giants win.  You'll hear the lamentations for a hundred years, and you'll remember that catch forever.  But what does it mean?

18 and Done

  No other Super Bowl, and no other team, seemed to be as ordained as this Patriots team was.  From the brutal

crushing of the Jets, and Redskins and Dolphins, to the near misses in Phily, Baltimore and New York, the Patriots were the team of the year.  15-0. 16-0. 18-0.  One by one the teams fell and New England propelled itself closer to the unattainable.  With Icarus like glee, this team drove onward, heedless of the sun.  Even after the wings had melted, still it flew.  But like the Coyote of Roadrunner fame, the bottom fell out.  And there Bill Belichick was, running towards the locker room even as the ground gave way before him.

  Tom Brady holds the record for most touchdowns in a season by a quarterback.  He is the youngest ever back to reach four Super Bowls, and until Sunday, he was the youngest ever Quarterback to win four Super Bowls.  Randy Moss stood triumphant over Jerry Rice's 22 touchdowns, cruising his way to immortality as the man who made the Patriots perfect.  Even the 'scrappy-do' of the Patriots, Wes Welker, whose amazing 11 catches tied a Super Bowl record, was ordained to become great.  But then it all faded away.  Perhaps it was karma, because the Patriots broke the rules.  Maybe it was fate, because nothing perfect was built to last, who knows.  Was this the Tower of football Babel?  Did the gods of football strike down those impudent men, seeking to reach the unseen heights of perfection?  They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  Well, perhaps the road to failure this season was paved with perfection.

  Now this season stands as a lament, a forgotten song.  19-0 is gone forever.  The most potent offense in the history of football, stronger than the Browns of the 50's, more powerful than the Cowboys of the 90's or the Greatest Show on Turf in St. Louis, this New England team was unstoppable.  Moss was amazing, and when you shut him down, Stallworth stepped up.  When neither was there, Wes Welker appeared to be a safety valve.   We fans got to see one of the greatest teams in the history of sports play.  Every pass was perfect, every down used and treasured.  Brady's long list of accomplishments was dotted with perhaps the most perfect performance in playoff history, when against the Jaguars brutal defense he went 26 of 28 for three touchdowns and 262 yards.  Lawrence Maroney appeared out of no where to give the Pats a run game, and suddenly, in the cold and in the 4th quarter and when it mattered most, the Patriots re-emerged into their traditional, no-nonsense self.  And then, to finalize their season, they came up short.  Perfection was just inches away, and they missed it.  Back to Tantalus, stuck between the Super Bowl and perfection, both pulled away once more.  Does the season end without meaning?  In some ways, yes.  18-1 is nothing, not if that -1 came when it mattered most.  But this season was amazing for the Patriots.  let us not deny that this game was an upset.  This New England team was the strongest team I have ever seen.  But even the strongest team, can fail, that is why we watch the sport.

David slays Goliath

   The Band is on the Field, the Kick is Good, the game is over.  Victory, over defeat.  The scrappy band of nobodies upset the giants.  It's so sweet it could be a movie.  But what does it mean?  Beyond capping a miracle 11-road win season in which the Giants, picked by certain bloggers to not even make the post season and loose their head coach in the offseason, reached the Super Bowl, this game was it.  This game was the Miracle on Ice, where the West beat the East, where the Giant fell and the little team that could managed to shock the world.  This is why we watch the game, to see the unbelievable, the unexpected, and the amazing.  Like Iron Mike Tyson going down, and the Titans coming up short, this ending was one for a lifetime.  The Giants will be remembered not just as the winners of Super Bowl XLII, but as the team that succeeded where 18 others, including themselves, had failed.

  The Giants played the part of justice, blindly bringing about the end of a season of anger, frustration and hatred.  The Pats ran up the score, they rubbed it in, they were cocky, superior and 'the best'.  The Giants were an afterthought.  Come on, the AFC Championship was the Super Bowl right?  I myself considered not even turning the game on unless it came close.  Boy was I wrong.  The irony of all of this was, it wasn't like the Giants got lucky, or the ball bounced their way.  Occasionally (like when a fumbled hand-off got flat out robbed by the Giants) luck titled for the Giants, but overall there was nothing spectacular.  It was the Giants who first coughed up a turn over, and the Giants who failed twice in the redzone.  It wasn't luck that let the 4-down linemen of New York abuse the Patriots O-line and for the first time since 1/2 of the Dallas game, make Tom Brady earn his plays.  In the most impressive O-line, D-line battle I've ever seen, the Patriots flat out lost. The one tool that has forever been the key to the New England success, finally failed, and it failed gloriously. 

  The Giants defensive effort is the best I have ever seen.  It was better than the 70's Steelers, who towered over lesser opponents and ground their way to 4 rings.  It was better than the 85 Bears, whose defense not only stopped the Patriots, but put them in reverse.  It was even better than the Ravens defense, whose supremely physical style set the standard for defenses in the modern league.  The Giants, with young corners and old linebackers, managed to stop an offense that had not put up fewer that 20 points all season, and in fact had averaged 36.8 points per game.  37 points a game!  And the Giants held this monster to 14.  They did it by pressing the line, making (most) tackles and covering down the field.  Brady got pressured, so Brady had to throw early.  His receivers, so used to having the time to run routes, had to improvise, and too often it didn't work.  5 sacks and tons of hits left the Patriots breathless, and the Giants victors.  So, I apologize to Tom Coughlin, who I disregarded, and Eli Manning, who I doubted.   I was wrong, and never have I ever been more glad.

 Really, there is only one image you need to see to remember this game forever.

  It was the Great Escape, and the Catch IV. 
  It was Giants 17, Patriots 14.

 And I loved it. This is why we watch the game.