That’s what I thought would happen. I saw the Pats winning 41-17. That was my final prediction.
At least I got the Giants’ number right.
What a beautiful game by the New York Giants. Just beautiful. Eli Manning made the play of the year in the last real game of the year (the Pro Bowl doesn’t count), shaking loose from what would’ve been an “in the grasp” call 15 years ago to complete an improbable pass, a pass that was hauled in by David Tyree, who earlier had caught his first TD pass in eons, a pass that he corraled with the help of his helmet.
And yet, while Manning deserved the MVP — he was 9-for-14 for 152 yards and two scores in the fourth quarter, the money quarter — so did the Giants’ defensive line. How good was the front four? How good was the play-calling on the defensive end? Five sacks on Tom Freaking Brady? How many knockdowns? Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
I tried, in my Designated Hitter column in The Sanford Herald on Sunday, to show, in a comparison between the Patriots of 2008 and the St. Louis Rams of 2001, that anything can happen in this thing we call sports. And again, against all odds and 12.5-point spread, the improbable became reality. This is why we love sports. Ladies, this is why we watch. The juggernaut, the team that was finally going to shut Mercury Morris up, the team that was as perfect as any we’ve ever seen and doing it in an age of parity, the team that had no weaknesses, fell.
This is why you try to make predictions. Not to look bad. Not to be reminded again that you’re nothing more than an idiot if you try to make a prediction. So what. You make a prediction in a game like this, and your sports soul is cleansed, especially when you’re wrong.
You never know. You never ever know. There is no such thing as the sure thing, not in sports.