I remember reading an article somewhere back when Burt broke the touchdown record and finding it very strange to read that quarterbacks such as Dan Marino, Terry Bradshaw, Joe Montana, Otto Graham, Steve Young, Peyton Manning, Len Dawson, Fran Tarkenton, and Eli Manning were all calling and texting him their congratulations for days on end. Back in October, sort of funny to imagine Eli passive-aggressively including himself with the big boys, and hard not to imagine him sort of fake-wandering into the basement where his big brother and friends were hanging out and trying to hang out, too. More thoughts came: what happened in all the backyard football games, long ago? Little Eli demanding to be a part of the game, Peyton making him play "offensive line" when there was no blitzer? Eli, in tears, trying to cover a kid five years older than him, getting blown up on a kickoff while trying to take out someone's knees? Peyton, laughing, rifling the ball into the back of Eli's head on 2nd and short? Archie somehow laughing along with Peyton?
All that's over. And watching the Giants tonight, I was reminded of another Giants game I recently
had the misfortune to attend. I have to say: the long play to Tyree was a thing of beauty, and the fade to Burress was another thing of beauty. Also beautiful: Plax turning away from his interview, all seventeen feet of him weepy, still not comprehending the victory. All the good vibes about the NFC stealing one from the Evil Empire tonight added up to a soupy, warm end to whatever lingering bitterness I was feeling about blowing the NFC Championship game and also burning up around 6000 calories in order to stay alive while doing it. For awhile I wasn't going to watch the SB, then for awhile I was noncommittal, and finally Mark and I just watched it with our lovely female friends, chatted, and pretended not to care until the 4th quarter. Sometime around the 45-yard completion to Boss, Mark commented that he had actually caught a glimpse, via one of the super-slow-mo cameras, of Eli's balls both growing to around 145% their typical size.
Sorry. Back to weepy Plax: I was saying most of the bitterness faded, and tonight, when all was said and done, I was able to look at him as not just a great wide receiver, but a great wide receiver who two weeks ago played one of the most dominant, incredible games I have ever seen a wide-receiver play. There's something to that. Similar feelings for the Giants defense, which came out just as mean and hungry and again just straight-up out-manned the competition and turned Matt Light's face bright pink. Osi may have pooped on the chests of all the Packer Bikini Girls that freezing night in GB, but it makes me feel better that he somehow did it as a part of a much greater accomplishment: pooping on the chests of every semi-attractive woman in Tampa Bay, Dallas, Green Bay, and New England on the road to acquiring the Vince Lombardi Trophy.
Killing the Packers...just one more step...I mean fuck them all, still...I'm not saying they're not all horrible motherfuckers...fuck the Giants...fuck everyone...
But at least it's a nice story now.
Here's another nice story. I keep trying to take a 5-months break, but damn, Ron Wolf. You serious, baby?

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