How do I write about my despair. How do I put into words this abject sadness that fights to consume me over this cup of coffee. For most of last night and as I awoke this morning, I thought of all the plays we could have run differently. How Reche could've caught the ball. How if Evans had broken a tackle and scampered inside the 20 with 24 seconds to play. If Brady had gone to the sidelines instead of over the middle. How a non-pass interference call on Reche and a bogus roughing-the-passer call on Banta-Cain could have sealed it for us (Seriously. I hit my dog harder than Tulla hit Peyton. Not saying we would've of stopped them, but that type of a call cannot be made in those situations. Also, how is that the announcers mentioned it only once? It was arguably the biggest play of the game getting the Colts to the 11 instead of the at the 20?).
Then it occurs to me...all this "we" stuff. It's not like I had any control over what was happening. Despite not shaving, despite wearing the same clothes every Sunday through the playoffs, despite eating only certain foods, there was nothing I could have done to control the outcome of the game. Of course, this realization lead to complete helplessness for a short-time. Why is it that sports fans put themselves through it? I have no answers, not this morning. On October 28, 2004 I had answers for you. On February 3, 2002 I had answers for you. This morning, I have nothing.
On the morning after the Mets won the '86 World Series, I remember it was my mother who told me as I woke up and scurried into the kitchen. I remember the same feeling then, as a six-year-old, that I have now. Then, as a baseball player, I pondered in my head whether I should want to play for the Mets when I got older -- because they were the champs. Then it occurred to me that I couldn't do that because the Red Sox needed me.
Do the Patriots need me? Probably not. Though I've got pretty good hands. They don't need me in any physical, emotional or metaphysical sense. I don't have those delusions. What I've surmised is that being a sports fan is like riding a roller coaster. There's the waiting in line, anticipation as the cars climb to the top, and then the up-and-down-topsy-turvy ride to the end. Sometimes the end is less than satisfying. Sometimes it's over at just the right moment. Either way, you usually enjoy the ride and want to do it again.
I enjoyed the ride. And I want to do it again. Also, don't misunderstand me either, this entry is not cathartic in any way. I'm still upset. But in anticipation of next year's ride, maybe I should lay off the ice cream and chips.
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9 comments:
That was horrible!
I was deeply upset!
I was kinda angered by the colts though! Why did the Colts challange everything? The game ran over into the 10p.m. schedual of other programs so I was a little angry.
Hungry Like A Wolf?
To Sexy for My Shirt?
X-Files Theme?
How do those not describe me as a person?
You always complain about how whenever I come over I eat everything, which you can't really blame me for considering my mom feeds me well and when i go to your house I get half of what I'm used to. I swear I could lose 50 lbs. if I stayed at your house for a week. Then we get to my charming good looks. And who is it dating a senior? Go me Go me! Then you are always saying how weird I am so yeah I think half of those described me!!! grr!
I'm really hyper! I'm supposed to be typing a paper, but my friend is editting it so I thought I would say hi! I'm in school and I'm talking on here!!!
Haha
Oh gotta go!
Bye
How does one spell CHOKE?
Hello Branch, Hello Givens we needed you last night. Guess being 13 million below the price cap helps the Pat's now.
Despite the bad calls, despite the dropped balls the team got very cocky going into the half.
Choke, choke, choke morphs into stink, stink, stink.
Sorry...I don't think yesterday's game quite amounts to a choke. On paper it does, sure. A blown 18-point lead is certainly that. However, follow football, follow the Colts and you know that they were never out...not with a mere 10 mins to go in the 2ND QUARTER. I kept saying this game is a long way from over and it was. I knew Peyton could come back and no one should've been surprised. The game was set up for him to come back -- that is if you watched the game and not read the box score. Call it a choke, whatever. The Pats blew the lead and lost the game. They weren't cocky at all...not in the least. How can you even say that. That's assinine, I'm sorry.
But they did everything they could to win the game, the colts just did more -- and that circumvents the definition of choke. We lost, they won -- that's the bottomline.
And I'm sorry...is Givens even playing in the NFL anymore. And Branch did jack squat in Seattle. Jack squat. It's the QB who makes the receiver in NE, not the other way around.
For fear of losing a friendship, I'm not going to say anything too stupid. But I was rooting for the "wrong" team and I've been letting my facial hair grow out too. Perhaps the real problem is that I just have better facial hair than you.
Idiot.
Sorry, too soon.
I'm still not ready to talk about it.
But I will say that I'm a little disappointed in my boy, Tom, for not shaking hands after the game. I know he was upset, but I thought he would be able to do that...
Is his defense, and to use the name of the Basketball Jesus here, Larry would've done the EXACT same thing. Bird never understood the whole congratulating other team behavior. It seemed to undermine everything you just strived for. Not saying I'll teach my kids that or do that myself...but it doesn't bother me when they don't congratulate the other team. Like I said Larry agrees with Tom and I'm obliged to give these two huge stars the benefit of the doubt.
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