Sunday was not a very good day for me, for obvious reasons. Looking back on last week, I think I was just preparing myself for the worst and just waiting for it to hit me. And hit me, it sure did. Once the Patriots let Ahmad Bradshaw crouch into the end zone and putting the Giants ahead 21-17, I knew that it was over. Even with Tom Brady at the helm and 56 seconds left in the game to work with, I just knew it was over. During that final drive, I only looked up at the TV once, and that was to see Deion Branch drop a pass with nobody within ten yards of him. I sat there and couldn't believe that this was happening again. And it was happening in the same exact way! Even though there were a couple friends in the room with me, I didn't say a word to them. I didn't want to say anything, and it was probably best that I didn't open my mouth right then. If I would have said anything, it surely would have been R-rated and in poor taste. To be honest, if the Patriots had to lose that Super Bowl, I would have preferred to watch the Pats lose in any other way that you can think of, instead of what actually transpired.
Yes, even watching the Patriots get blown out 55-3 would have been more tolerable for me than watching the Giants offense systematically march down the field and, at least after the big Manningham catch, knowing they were going to score one way or the other. It's moments like this game that I wonder to myself why exactly I care so much. Why do I care about sports this much?!?








