Sunday, February 03, 2008
On any given Sunday
"I came in like a lamb. But I intend to leave like a lion..." - Sade, Bullet Proof SoulAnd how fucking sweet it is. After 17 long years of wandering in the wilderness of championship draught, New York is back at the top of the pigskin heap. Baseball remains my first love, but I can't front like I wasn't yelling from the top of my lungs and running around my living room as if the spirit of Jeff Hostetler was hovering over U. of Phoenix Stadium. On a personal note (the team used to be one of my corporate accounts), I was so proud to see the classy tributes to both Wellington Mara & Robert Tisch. The first time in a long time that the tagline "don't believe the hype" need not apply. I'm still trying to decide which will rank highest on my highlight reel for Super Bowl XLII. Among them will be:
- The bat mitzvah of Eli Manning to a global audience.
- All-American whiner Tom Brady eating Astroturf. Five times.
- Junior Seau coming out of retirement only to remain ringless.
- David Tyree's catch on 3rd and 5 from the 44. Holy. fucking. shit.
- Plaxico Burress proving that unlike Randy Moss, he can unequivocally put his money where his mouth is.
- Gratuitous shots of Osi Umenyiora. (Operation: Selita Ebanks Must Disappear is in full swing.)
- Defecating on the prospect of 19-0 in the most heartbreaking of ways.
But thankfully the balance of power has shifted (if only for a fleeting moment) back in its rightful order. Celebration in the Big Apple, desperation in Beantown. Knowing that whenever Massholes reminisce on what could've been in the days, weeks and months ahead, they'll always know that perfection was derailed at the hands of the evil underdogs from Gotham. Little tidbits like that just perk my nipples up at full salute. Payback's a bitch I'd like to have a drink with.
P.S. Feel free to go fuck yourself, Tiki Barber.
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