Before we begin this epic and long-overdue edition of Foil in the Oven, I would like all of you to watch this video. Don't worry, I'm not going to load you up with all videos and very little text like we did in response to our Super Bowl hysteria. In fact, I feel more prepared to comment on the world of sports than I have since before the Giants took the field in Green Bay.
I am now at peace. But, this video is nothing short of a cinematic masterpiece. The overall themes speak to me in a very powerful way. The parallels between Cowboys fans and the Nazi regime really hit home for anyone whose team plays those bastards twice (or, occasionally three times) a season. Furthermore, the idea of the Giants being the force that finally destroys the Nazis and liberates Europe seems particularly appropriate given what happened this season. Finally, World War II seems the perfect setting for a rivalry in the NFC East, a division in which head-to-head matchups come with the highest of stakes.------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So often, our teams let us down. We give so much of ourselves to them, and we usually we end up dissapointed. We give our time, our money, our energy, and our passion to these people. We plan entire days around devoting our energy to the endeavors of men who will most likely never even know who we are. There are so many worthwhile ways that we could be helping to better ourselves or our communities, but instead we relish this oppurtunity to watch our teams play as if there was not a more pressing issue at hand anywhere in the world.
And, like I said, most of the time our teams come up short. When all of these leagues have about 30 teams, how could they not? When they do, we're crushed. We feel angry, frustrated, and empty. Long after these men who actually play the games have moved on to their training for the next season, we still sit and ponder what could have possibly gone so wrong. We make ourselves miserable wondering about how things might have been different if certain plays or calls had gone differently. We begin to analyze each athlete's personal life and what bearing that might have had on the way that things unfolded. We wonder if something WE did during the course of the game might have somehow impacted the outcome. Finally, in the craziest part of this whole fucking cycle, we start saying that we wish that we could have given up something from our lives so that these men could be succesful. This is how much they mean to us. Their loss is our loss. Their success is our success. This whole thing is really just as stupid as it sounds. I know this wholeheartedly, and yet I know that I will never be any different. Like many people who give themselves over fully to their teams, this is just the way that I'm made. Perhaps it's because we now live in such comfort that sports becomes the only way for us to channel our primal instincts. That's probably totally wrong. Maybe I should just move on to the Super Bowl........
It's hard for me to decide which team has caused me the most torment over the years. We certainly can't have this conversation without discussing the Whalers (something I didn't want to do until April, so I'll keep it short). I bled for that team. I told people about how Sean Burke was the greatest goalie of all time, but he just didn't have any defense. I declared categorically, on a daily basis, that Geoff Sanderson was the most underrated player in the history of the NHL. I can remember being very young and walking out of a game with my dad in which Ray Bourque had scored an overtime goal to beat the Whale. I had been particularly intense during this game, to the point where some drunk Bruins fan threatened to throw me over the railing onto the ice. "I hate Ray Bourque dad! I hate him! He sucks! God!" I screamed as we made our way to the car. He insisted that Bourque was a great player, that it was a great game, and that it would be great to watch the highlights when we got home (it should be noted here that I have an undisclosed source that worked for a moving company that the Bruins hired who has a first-hand story confirming that Bourque was, in fact, at least somewhat of a dickhead. Unclear if that's why he scored the winning goal that night). He had already learned techniques to deal with his dissapointment. This was one of the many emotional scars that this team would cause me. The most significant of which came, ironically, in a victory over the Tampa Bay Lightning. This would be the last game this team would play before packing up and heading to Carolina. Like Kevin Dineen, I cried that day (don't judge me!).
So, certainly a case can be made for the Whalers, but they have also given me one less sport to get worked up about. So, while I still may need psychotherapy because of them, at least I haven't stressed out about hockey in many years.Obviously, you have throw the Red Sox in there. I wasn't alive for Bucky Dent. I was only three when the ball went through Buckner's legs. For these things I am thankful. And, although my generation of Red Sox fans has seen its share of bad days (the Aaron Boone home run still remains strong in my memories even today), it's hard to complain about a team that has won two World Series in my life. The Celtics have been perpetually uninspiring. My generation missed out on the glory days of the eighties. The formative years were spent watching Dee Brown, Dino Radja, Ed Pickney, Kevin Gamble, and Reggie Lewis. Sure, on the whole they've let me down. But, they've never gotten my hopes up and then crushed me (knock on wood. Please don't do that this year. Please. I'm begging you. Really. I watched every game besides three last season and those were unavoidable. I work hard. Please. In Bird we trust, please remove any possible jinxes from what I just said, Amen.) I have no complaints about UCONN basketball.
Sure, they once lost to Texas in a year when they would have won the national championship if Caron Butler had stayed another year and I was so upset that ended up chugging a bunch of Gold-Bond powder, but their win over Duke in the 99 National Championship game is one of my all time greatest sports moments (below Giants on Sunday and the Red Sox two championships).But, no team has caused me more stress than the New York Giants. It's not that they haven't won a championship since Scott Norwood handed it to us nearly twenty years ago, it's that this team always has a knack for getting my hopes up and then crushing them. I could cite many examples here. But, there's one that still sticks in my mind more than any other. Of course, I'm talking about the 2002 road playoff loss to San Francisco. This was a Giants team that had been up and down all year, but had finished the regular season in strong fashion (the most exciting play of that season was a long flea-flicker touchdown pass from Kerry Collins to Amani Toomer to open the second half in a win against the Colts.) The Giants came out firing in this playoff game, and built themselves a 24 point second half lead, which they eventually blew thanks to Terrell Owens having his way with Jason Sehorn and numerous special teams mishaps. The game ended on our holder fielding a bad long snap on a potentially game-winning field goal, and throwing it downfield to an eligible lineman who was dragged down. Pass interference should have been called, and we should have had another chance to kick.
The NFL admitted this several days later, when it was too late. The next day, I had testicle surgery to correct a vein that had gotten twisted, which seemed like the only logical thing to be doing after this game. I sat around in pain for weeks after the surgery, refusing to take off my Giants sweatshirt, no matter how bad it began to smell.......
You learn to protect yourself from these dissapointments, but you never lose hope. After ripping off six straight wins, 07-08 the Giants began their signature second-half of the season slide. Of course I had seen this play out before. I had marched around work just a season earlier around the mid-way point of the season declaring that the G-Men were on their way to winning the Super Bowl. The downward spiral that ensued over the rest of that season left a horrible taste in my mouth. Luckily, I had been down this road before. I nursed myself back to health in the off-season, and was ready to go through the whole thing all over again.....
But, something seemed different about this year's Giants team. I say that every year, but I really meant it this year (and if I ended up being wrong, I'd really mean it next year) The experiences of last year seemed to have forged a strong bond between them. They were actually playing, and acting, like a team. They looked shaky in many games over the second half of the season. The loss to Minnesota was the unquestioned low point. However, solid wins like the Detroit game and come-from-behind wins like the Chicago game kept me optimistic, and helped me believe in this team. Heading into the playoffs, I was confident that this would be the year that Eli brought us deep into the playoffs. We were coming off a strong showing against the Patriots, who at the time (and, up until five days ago) were the top team in the league. Plus, we had been strong on the road all year long. Was there any doubt? Of course. At this point in my life, there has to be to prevent me from going insane. But, I really did feel good about this team's chances.
Despite the fact that the Giants were 10-6, every analyst seemed certain that they wouldn't be able to get past the 9-7 Bucaneers.
I couldn't understand this. At least when every TV and internet analyst picked the Cowboys and Packers over the Giants, they could point to the fact that Big Blue was 0-3 against these teams in the regular season. But the Bucaneers? They were 9-7 in a weaker conference. As was the case in all three rounds leading up to the Super Bowl, the oracle was wiser than these "football experts", and chose the G-Men to make their way all to the Super Bowl. At the time, I was frustrated. Looking back now, I relish every moment I can remember these guys picking against the Giants, particularly those who said that they were just sitting ducks for New England...... 
I had myself jacked up for victory before all three of our NFC playoff victories. I was confident that Dallas was reeling and we were playing better than them, and frankly Green Bay hadn't impressed me all year. But, the self-protection strategies that I have learned over the years took over heading into the Super Bowl. "You've already gotten so much further than anyone expected" I had to tell myself. "Even if they play a great game, they still may lose." I had to tell myself these things. I expected the Giants to play well, I really did. As I stated in my defense of Plax , I couldn't understand why people were so unwilling to accept that both teams expected to win. Given the way the Giants had played over the past 4 games, they had every right to be confident. But, I knew that if I totally gave myself over to the prospect of victory, and the Giants left everything out on the field and lost, I wouldn't be able to take it. So, I had to cushion myself. I couldn't expect victory. At least I had to tell myself not to.
The Giants did play well. They played fucking great. They played their greatest game when it mattered the most. As the game progressed, I became more and more anxious. I had given myself over. We had to win. And yet, I was waiting for it, the signature New England fourth quarter touchdown that would drive a dagger into my heart. When Randy Moss scored in the fourth quarter, I thought that moment had come. I became enraged. How could this happen? How could we come this far, how could we play this well, how could we control this game for over fifty minutes, and come out as the losers. I could feel my heart racing. As Randy Moss (my favorite player in the entire NFL keep in mind, I have his fathead) celebrated the touch down, I screamed "anybody can score a fucking touchdown when the guy covering you falls down!" For the record, Randy, I apologize. I didn't mean it. It's true, but I didn't mean it. I furiously text messaged Babcock saying something along the lines of "Rodney Harrison deserves to go just like Lyle Alzado did." Keep in mind, Rodney wasn't even on the field when the score happened. I was lost. I felt like Anakin Skywalker giving myself over to the dark side. I had given into my anger. How could this have happened....
We all know what happened next.
I sat in disbelief, and when Plax caught that touchdown pass, I suddenly felt hundreds of pounds lift off my shoulders. The blood retreated from my angry red face like water rushing over a lowered dam. Suddenly, the cosmos alligned themselves. The state of bliss is something that I can't describe. But, Red Sox fans that remember 2004 know how it feels. Patriots fans who remember 2001 know how it feels. Steelers fans that remember 2006 know how it feels. It's indescribable (which is probably why I've written a goddamn novel here). Babcock wrote this in his piece about the game:
"I can honestly say that, as a sports fan, and even more so as a human being, I have never experienced such a jolting, tragic, and heart-ripped-from my chest moment in my entire life."
I understand that feeling completely, which is why I feel for him and the rest of the Patriots fans out there. The feeling that I'm trying to describe is the exact oppisite of that. I don't want to say it's the greatest moment of my life, but the only reason I don't want to say it is that I feel stupid saying it. It really feels like the greatest moment of my life. I'm sure that I'll have greater moments as I continue on through life. Maybe it's not that these are greater moments than your classic answers (children being born, etc.) but just that they are great in a different way. Again, who the hell knows if that even makes sense.
Please, let's watch this again. I had to work hard not use the word resiliency in describing this team, but it really is the perfect adjective:
Couldn't be happier for this guy
There was so much I wanted to cover but I've already gone way longer than I (and probably you)wanted me to. Here are things that I wanted to cover and may in the coming days:
- The NBA season, despite what many expected, has been amazing. The Gasol and Shaq trades this week are very intriguing. The Lakers have to be one of the top three teams in the West now. Who knows what we'll happen with Shaq. I've learned that you can never count him out.
- The extension of Spags means that the G-Men might be able to convince Strahan to stay on and try for a repeat. People have been scoffing at this idea. But, the young guys in our secondary will be better. Plax will be healthy. Jacobs and Bradshaw will be better, and Ward will be back. The offensive line is remaining intact. Eli should be much more confident now. Look at what this team just did. You can't say they don't have a chance.
- What the hell ever happened to the Diet Chocolate Cherry Dr. Pepper that was supposed to be coming out? I drink Diet Soda (fuck off) and I was really excited for that. You can't have commercials for it and then not sell it. I can't find it anywhere.
-If Roger Clemens is lying, he's really let this thing get out of hand. At some point, it's better to just come out with the truth than to face perjury charges. If Brian McNamee is lying, then this whole investigation is sketchy.
Audioslave is sick:
1 comment:
LEON!!!
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