Retracting It (Or: No Longer In Defense of Milkshake)
I owe an apology. I owe an apology to Sam, Marcus, Daniel, Chad, Brent, and every other Bears fan in the world. I was pulling for the Colts; because they've been so good for so long, and my Patriots have knocked them out year after year; because after these past six seasons, they'd moved from hated nemesis to respected rival; because I wanted Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning to get their rightful turn at the top of the mountain.
I was wrong.
Back when I was a kid, I remember the Broncos coming so close year after year, and when they finally ousted Green Bay to "win one for John," I put aside my Bronco-hating ways to tip my hat to Elway. I remember the tears coming down his cheek as he raised the Lombardi trophy. In recent years, I remember those same tears, as Tom Brady shook his head from side to side in disbelief in the hail of confetti culminating year after year of underdog achievements, and Jerome Bettis, who I let my distaste of the Steelers subside for when he and Bill Cowher hoisted that same trophy together. They'd worked so hard to get there, and there was nothing but joy in those scenes.
After the clock ran out on Chicago last night, it was all flat.
The Colts have been struggling for so many years, coming close many times, but when they finally won it all last night, they just seemed to be relieved it was over. The happiness seemed empty and staged. Peyton Manning talked to the media afterwards as if it were just another game. It wasn't just another game. It was a sloppy, rain soaked Super Bowl, but a Super Bowl none the less. The Bears fell back into base defense and bad-Rex showed up. The Colts played just good enough ball control to win. As Don Shula walked the trophy through two rows of Colts, lined up to touch it one by one, it all seemed contrived, it was all half smiles, it was as if there were still games left to be played.
I like Peyton Manning. I like Tony Dungy. I've lost my empathy for the colts. If not for Elliot's quip about, "all pre- and post-game shows are basically just an excuse to defrost Tommy Lasorda to see what he thinks," the aftermath of the game would have left everyone in the room with a sort of melancholy. Sure, we had chili. Sure, we had good Belgian beer. Sure, Peyton Manning and Tony Dungy finally won their Super Bowl, but maybe they won it four years too soon for them to really bleed emotion when they hoist the trophy. A week ago, I wanted Peyton Manning to get his ring -- as the game faded last night, I'd wished it'd been Urlacher and Lovie Smith instead.
The drinking game we'd thought up, to take a shot every time Jim Nantz compares Peyton Manning to Dan Marino, fell disappointingly short. Just like the Colts themselves. You won the frickin' Super Bowl, dude, act like it!
Bears Nation, I'm sorry. Brett Favre decided to play again next year, so between that and the rest of your division, you're guaranteed six wins to start next season. I won't make the same mistake next January.
--Patrick
I was wrong.
Back when I was a kid, I remember the Broncos coming so close year after year, and when they finally ousted Green Bay to "win one for John," I put aside my Bronco-hating ways to tip my hat to Elway. I remember the tears coming down his cheek as he raised the Lombardi trophy. In recent years, I remember those same tears, as Tom Brady shook his head from side to side in disbelief in the hail of confetti culminating year after year of underdog achievements, and Jerome Bettis, who I let my distaste of the Steelers subside for when he and Bill Cowher hoisted that same trophy together. They'd worked so hard to get there, and there was nothing but joy in those scenes.
After the clock ran out on Chicago last night, it was all flat.
The Colts have been struggling for so many years, coming close many times, but when they finally won it all last night, they just seemed to be relieved it was over. The happiness seemed empty and staged. Peyton Manning talked to the media afterwards as if it were just another game. It wasn't just another game. It was a sloppy, rain soaked Super Bowl, but a Super Bowl none the less. The Bears fell back into base defense and bad-Rex showed up. The Colts played just good enough ball control to win. As Don Shula walked the trophy through two rows of Colts, lined up to touch it one by one, it all seemed contrived, it was all half smiles, it was as if there were still games left to be played.
I like Peyton Manning. I like Tony Dungy. I've lost my empathy for the colts. If not for Elliot's quip about, "all pre- and post-game shows are basically just an excuse to defrost Tommy Lasorda to see what he thinks," the aftermath of the game would have left everyone in the room with a sort of melancholy. Sure, we had chili. Sure, we had good Belgian beer. Sure, Peyton Manning and Tony Dungy finally won their Super Bowl, but maybe they won it four years too soon for them to really bleed emotion when they hoist the trophy. A week ago, I wanted Peyton Manning to get his ring -- as the game faded last night, I'd wished it'd been Urlacher and Lovie Smith instead.
The drinking game we'd thought up, to take a shot every time Jim Nantz compares Peyton Manning to Dan Marino, fell disappointingly short. Just like the Colts themselves. You won the frickin' Super Bowl, dude, act like it!
Bears Nation, I'm sorry. Brett Favre decided to play again next year, so between that and the rest of your division, you're guaranteed six wins to start next season. I won't make the same mistake next January.
--Patrick
posted by Patrick at Monday, February 05, 2007
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