Cursed To First - Sox and Pats forever.

Super Bowl XLIV

bus stop..., originally uploaded by JustUptown.

I realize that as a Patriots fan, I'm biased against the Colts. I also realize that one football game will not rebuild a city.

I realize that "formidable" is an understatement when it comes to describing this year's Indianapolis team, and that Peyton Manning is one of the greats at the top of his game. I realize that the Saints as a franchise are inexperienced at this point of the postseason, and that Drew Brees has yet to prove himself on the biggest stage. (Although, for what it's worth, people like Football Outsiders who look into deeper layers of the game suggest the Saints might not be quite as much of an underdog as they're being made out to be).

But if you don't have a horse in this race, for one reason or another, I think you root for joy to come to one of our country's most beleaguered cities--wherever it comes from, whatever it solves or doesn't solve. I think you root for the Cinderella story. I think you root for Mardi Gras to start early.

I'll be Tweeting @cursed_to_first, and back here postgame with more thoughts.

WHO DAT! GEAUX SAINTS!

Patriots Week 3 Photos

Photoset

What is this "baseball" you speak of?

Today, the Patriots brought back 1982's uniforms and 2007's hegemony over the National Football League with a 59-0 all day long country-ass-whupping of a warm weather team in the snow. 

Good times. And vastly preferable to watching Joba thumping his chest in New York.

Guess who's back?

Tom Brady, originally uploaded by Mpls Ju.

I'll be reviewing the action over at MVN. Here's my game preview post.

Deciding the NFL team of the decade

One ring to rule them all, originally uploaded by ConfessionalPoet.

Brad Gagnon at The Score put out an interesting challenge on his blog last week, calling on football fans to answer, Who's the team of the decade?

My answer is obvious, but not just for the reasons you might think.Continue reading at MVN------>

My Favorite Christmas Present

It wasn't one I got. Instead, this year, it was one I gave.

For years I've wanted to buy my Dad a John Hannah jersey. Hannah, a Hall of Fame guard for the New England Patriots in the late 70's and early 80's, was, in my father's refrain, "the GREATEST. EVER. TO PLAY. THE GAME." Mention his name around my Dad, and that's how the speech will start. It will usually end with a statement about how "none of these guys today could even carry his jock."

This reverence for John Hannah stems from his overarching belief in the supremacy of linemen, particularly offensive linemen. Another frequent phrase of my father's is "the so-called skill positions." He played quarterback in high school and coached offensive line. You could say he's naturally biased.

Much as I wanted him to be able to proudly display No. 73 at Gillette, John Hannah's jersey is pretty much only available in authentic replica throwback. Authentic replica throwback jerseys tend to be, as we say in the trades, freakin' expensive. It was always out of my reach.

Then, a couple of weeks ago I was approached by a rep from an online sports memorabilia company about advertising on this blog*. (That would be his link under 'Resources' on the right.) We haggled over the price, and then he offered instead to pay in sports memorabilia. I was skeptical at first, thinking it was going to be an item he'd selected. Instead, he told me to go to this site and select any items that totaled below a certain amount.

And there it was.

My Dad opened it as the last of his presents Christmas morning, and it was all I could do not to blurt out what it was before he got the chance. As he unwrapped, I waited with camera poised.

O come let's sing Ohio's praise

Laurinaitis Looms, originally uploaded by ConfessionalPoet.

My parents took us on a trip to Ohio last weekend because it was important to them that we see the spectacle that is Division IA football before my sister finally graduates from her Division IA school.

Now that we've been there, I see why. My mother thanked me for being a "good sport" about it all, but there was no forbearance involved. I found myself clapping like a fool at the marching band's dramatic pregame skull session and spelling out O-H-I-O with my arms more times than I care to remember at the game, though I couldn't have named almost anyone on the field.

The energy, the devotion, the laser focus on the game at hand, the coordinated T-shirts...the intensity reminded me of nothing so much as being at a Red Sox playoff game--only with about three times as many people in Ohio Stadium as fit into Fenway Park. There were times it was so loud that when I added my yell to the rest of the cacophany, I could feel it coming out of my throat but couldn't hear it.

Meanwhile, I've uploaded approximately eleventy bazillion photos of our trip today. Highlights below the jump.

Red Sox? Never heard of 'em.

I've been too busy getting psyched up for the new season of New England Patriots football, which is sure to be---

Oh. Right.

Well, here's a photo slideshow of Friday's Preseason Game 3 anyway. Included: photos of the new Patriot Place complex looking to supplant the End Zone Motel as the top attraction in Foxboro other than Gillette.

Super Bowl LiveBlog: Aftermath

I am happy for Tony Dungy, after all he's been through. I am (gulp) even grudgingly happy for Adam Vinatieri. I feel terribly for Lovie Smith and Brian Urlacher. I think Rex Grossman is probably out of a job. I am thinking also of Brian, who must be totally devastated.

Peyton Manning has been named the MVP, and so now we can say officially that there is no God. Good night.

Super Bowl LiveBlog: Fourth Quarter

Marvin Harrison is hurt and the Bears just ripped off a great run, now that I've returned from pouting. Then the Bears get pulled back to a 1st and 20 because of a stupid holding penalty.

"Bears can't do anything right," grumbles my dad. Urgh. The fact that they're only down five points is both amazing and maddening. It means I'm still hoping against hope.

An amazing catch by Muhsin Muhammed, and now... Rex Grossman throws an interception.

Which is run back by the Colts for a touchdown.

Seriously? That was the worst thing I've ever seen in my life. I mean ever.

Peyton Manning jumps off the bench, stadium jacket flying, huge grin on his face, celebrating. No team in Super Bowl history has ever come back from larger than a ten-point deficit; the Bears are now down by 12. I hate this. I truly hate this.

I don't know what it is...I had a much calmer attitude when the Colts beat the Pats than I do now. Maybe I was in denial or shock or something, but I am seething at this point. I think it's because I know that the last six years (not to mention his college career) of choking notwithstanding, if Peyton wins this game, there are any number of national football commentators who cannot wait to anoint him the greatest quarterback of all time, cannot wait to claim that this single victory after repeated failures erases all the doubts. If Peyton wins this game, nothing else will be taken into consideration--not Rex Grossman's sheer ineptitude on the other side of the ball, not Manning's own overall postseason record. Someone, whether the league or the networks, desperately wants Peyton Manning to be the best quarterback ever, and a win here would give them that much more fodder with which to fabricate that legend.

By the way, in the time it took me to type this, Rex Grossman has thrown another interception. I really don't know which quarterback I despise more right now. It's hard to even root for Rex, despite the fact that he is the lesser of two evils.

Peyton sacked. That's more like it.

Bears, after the next play, pushing and shoving. That's not a good sign.

Colts will punt. Stadium sounds all but silent. "Why the hell not. Grossman sucks, why not just let him run the clock out?" is my dad's comment.

If anybody--I mean anybody--attempts to compare this game on Peyton's part to any of Tom Brady's Super Bowls, I will...well, I'll feel like screaming, at least. But the bitch of it is I know they will, and I probably won't actually scream. You know, out loud. 

So far, BTW, careerbuilder gets my vote for best commercials. The performance-review-as-torture-in-the-jungle spot is a goodun also.

Theoretically, the Bears are still in this thing. Six minutes to go, on the 45, down 12 points.

However, four backup defensive linemen are in for the Colts and still Grossman is throwing wild and the Bears' receivers are getting stuffed. Finally, this Bears possession mercifully concludes with the Colts taking over on downs.

I had a dream once that I had to suit up and play in an NFL football game. Not that I was suddenly someone with NFL abilities, but that I, Beth, person off the street, was given some shoulder pads and a jersey and told to play in a real pro football game. It was a terrifying nightmare--I basically just tried to stay physically alive. I'm wondering if that's how Rex Grossman has been feeling tonight.

Phil Simms mentions he just had the "honor" of voting for the game's MVP. Gee, I wonder who he might have cast his vote for.

My dad was just incredulously insisting that Dominic Rhodes or Joseph Addai are by rights the MVP at this point when I suggest that Peyton is almost certainly going to be the one elected. So I bet him ten bucks it would be Peyton. He wouldn't take the bet.

22 seconds left with the Bears on the field and the Colts are dumping the Gatorade over Dungy. Klassy!