Last
Week: Vs. Spread: (2-2); Straight Up: (3-1)
Season:
Vs.
Spread: (134-124-6); Straight Up: (175-88-1)
Divisional
Round Review: Well, that wasn’t exactly your average
Divisional Round weekend, or at least it wasn’t mine. I’m okay with going 3-1
picking winners and .500 ATS. I’m now 7-1 picking winners in the playoffs which
I feel good about.
The games were great. I
really didn’t want Baltimore to win the first game of the weekend but that was
a classic. I don’t recall seeing a double overtime game in the NFL. It was hard
for me to focus on the first half of the Green Bay-San Fran game because the
game in Denver was still on-going. Then the Niners pretty much took control in
the 2nd half. The Patriots-Texans game was entertaining but I never
felt like Patriots were in trouble.
And then there was my
game. It was a long strange trip for me. A foggy haze of a far-the-fuck-out
trip.
I went to the game by
myself. Looking back, I think I was actually feeling a little bit off on Friday
and on Saturday and on Sunday morning…but I didn’t see coming what eventually
came.
Once I got into the
stadium the mood was fantastic. The boys got off to a great start. The crowd
was electric. I swiftly disposed of a couple of beers and enjoyed watching the
first quarter from the top of one of the seating sections in the end zone. My
seat was somewhere amongst the patrons in that very section but I actually felt
more comfortable standing at the top where I could move around.
So I was yelling and
clapping and jumping and all of that. At some point I got an urge. I think if I
wasn’t in the process of quitting smoking (Sunday was my 7th day) I
would never have eaten anything; I would have smoked a cigarette. That’s what I
wanted: a cigarette. Instead I got a small personal pan pizza with pepperoni (It
was from Fascist John’s). I ate it quickly.
Then I got one more
beer. Again, looking back, that was kind of a sign. I never just get 1 beer at
a game. I always get 2 at once. Without really being conscious of it, I must
have been feeling a bit off.
But then some guy came
up and told me that I had to move from my spot atop the isle. I figured out
where my seat was and I had to talk to a bunch of people and get them to move.
I was stuck in between a couple of people and squeezed in tightly. I started
sweating. I told them that if they wanted to I would switch so that they could
all sit together (it was all one family). They liked this idea.
This worked out well
because it turned out that the guy who I had bought my ticket from had all the
tickets from this one section and hadn’t sold them all, so I had 3 seats in my
row to myself and 2 empty seats in the row in front of me. I had paid $100 for
these $125 seats and they were, in my opinion, the best seats I’d ever had for
an NFL game: 2nd level, middle of the end zone.
I could now stretch out
and relax but I began to feel weak. I found myself sitting down as soon as I
could after a play. But I wasn’t that concerned. I thought I was just maybe
dehydrated. During New Year’s I went to a Panic show and got real dehydrated
and had terrible muscle cramps but it was not a big deal. I thought that was
maybe the problem here.
I was still doing fine
as the 2nd quarter wound down. But then some Jersey Shore type of
dude (and he had just flown in from Jersey) showed up and he and his girl had 2
of the 3 seats I was sitting in. Suddenly I was stuck between the Jersey Shore
dude and another guy. And the Jersey Shore dude was a talker. And I wasn’t feeling
up to talking. I was feeling ill. I was sweating. And everything he said was
just pissing me off.
And by the way, his
girl was gorgeous. I swear it’s fucking all about being totally unaware. You
call it confidence. Fine. We’ll call it confidence. Either way, I’m telling
you. If I could just be dumb enough and unaware enough not to realize that I’m an
average looking, overweight, nerdy 32-year old with undesirable income and
instead I just thought and acted as if I was the fucking bomb, I would have
hot, preppy looking bitches flying with me to an NFL playoff game for no
fucking reason.
Anyway, I had to
continue to make noise because the team really needed the crowd for a pair of
red zone stops late in the half. By the time the half ended we were up 20-0 but
I didn’t stop to celebrate. I jumped into the isle and moved as quickly as I
could up the stairs. I needed some air.
But once I got to the
top of the isle and into the open space, my body sensed that it was okay to let
loose, and I had just a few seconds to get to the trash can in the 2nd
level hallway. I threw up maybe 20 times over 1-and-a-half to 2 minutes. I had
to leave. But on the way down the ramps I had to stop. There was no place to
put it. My last couple of spews covered the wall. Then I left the stadium. The
smells and the sounds and noise and heat were making me feel like I wanted to
throw up some more. I stumbled out into the day and straggled to my car,
stopping several times during the way to sit and breath.
Luckily I had my head phones
with me so I could focus on the 20-0 lead. The game was starting up again as I
got to the church parking lot where my car was parked. I really didn’t feel bad
about leaving. I mean, I was disappointed that this had happened for sure. But
I couldn’t enjoy the game in this state. And besides, I came to win, and I was
leaving knowing that we were in really good shape to play again next week. I
had to find one of the guys doing security for the church to open the gate for
me. I told him I was leaving because I had gotten really sick and he didn’t
think it was funny at all and told me to walk ahead of him on to my car and he’d
let me out. He didn’t look at me or smile again.
As I drove home, the
Seahawks drove down the field. They had gotten the ball first after halftime
and this time they scored to make it a 20-7 game. That was okay, I knew they’d
make a game of it.
While driving home I
realized how sick I was. This wasn’t just eating fast and drinking a couple beers
and shaking around a little (although that didn’t help). This was my body
trying to expel something.
I had a bit of an
accident while trying to relieve some pressure and I thought I was maybe going
to literally die.
But the boys responded
to Seattle’s drive. Snelling caught a little shovel pass and went in to make it
26-7. I wondered if we should go for 2. We didn’t. That was okay. We had just
eaten up almost all of the 3rd quarter and answered their score to
make the deficit 20 again. Even if they scored 2 TD’s we would still be up by
6. Even if we played as badly as possible the rest of the way, it would be hard
to blow this.
I still had some more
getting sick to do once I got back into my house. I was sitting in my bathroom,
trying to follow the action on the phone, but the clock wouldn’t hurry up and
Seattle’s position on the field was improving by leaps and bounds. They scored
to make it 27-14 with still almost an entire quarter to play. We got the ball
back and had 2nd down on our own side of the 50. We needed to move the
ball and eat some clock at the very least. I looked down again and was pleased
to see that it read 1st down in Seattle territory. But something
told me that wasn’t quite right. I then noticed that Seattle had the ball. Ryan
had thrown a pick and now the Seahawks had it back.
Again they didn’t march
so much as they did skip down the field. All of the sudden it was a
1-possession game and it was 6-points, not 7. There was a long way to go. And
then we went 3-and-out. The texts started coming in. Seattle got the ball back
at their 40. I thought they might score, but we would have time to answer. I
believed we wouldn’t allow this to slip away.
But the defense held
and Seattle punted into the end zone. Now I thought we could put the game away.
We picked up a 1st down on the ground and kept it on the ground but
the drive stalled. Matty Ryan threw short to Roddy on 3rd down and
we had to give it up. Seattle got it back at the 40 again. And now, I didn’t
know if we’d have a chance to respond if they scored. The clock was getting
late. I was scared. They moved quickly inside our territory. I started to think
“Oh my god. I’m as sick as I’ve been in years, and we may lose this. Not only
might we not get this playoff win, we might suffer one of the all-time
crushers.”
But there was life, as
Seattle had 3rd and 5 from the 27 with the clock under 2 minutes.
Then we came on Wilson and we had him but he slipped away and dumped it off to
Lynch and suddenly the Seahawks had the ball almost at the goal line. They had
it at the 3 with 34 seconds left. There would be no time left for us. Now the
nightmare was probably going to come true.
I began to think that I
might just move away. Move away from this town and just go and forget about
sports.
The Seahawks ran
another play and Lynch scored. He got hit after crossing the goal line and
fumbled right into the arms of a Seahawk linemen but it was all the same. I was
just annoyed that we might have to wait for them to confirm what everyone
already knew was a touchdown. They hit the PAT to put us behind with just 31
seconds to play.
I really don’t remember
the moments between that PAT and the ensuing kickoff. I was angry, crushed,
sick, and also in shock. I couldn’t believe it. In a very weird way I was
relatively calm as they kicked off. I saw that Quizz would have a chance to
return. My first thought was “don’t bring it out, we need those seconds” but
then I thought “well, maybe it’s worth it for the chance to break one.” I wasn’t
thrilled with his return initially, as it took 5 more seconds off the clock.
However, when we lined up at the 28, it sure seemed like that 8 yard difference
was a big deal.
I was out of my head
but that really translated to calm. I really wasn’t thinking, “oh, the season’s
about to end; the finishing touches are about to be put on an unfathomable nightmare.”
I wasn’t so much thinking about all the times we had saved ourselves late in
games as much as I was watching this game after having experienced those
things. We saw it happen against Chicago early, early on in the Ryan/Smith era.
Similar feats had been repeated over the years.
And then it just sort
of happened. HD caught a pass near midfield. All of the sudden were at
midfield. All we needed was 10 yards to get into range. To have at least a
shot. We had plenty of time and a timeout. Then Ryan threw over the middle and
Gonzalez had it all the way down to near the 30 yard line. Just like that. But
for some reason we stopped the clock with 13 seconds left. I didn’t want to
risk running another play; I knew Matty Bryant would hit from here. I just didn’t
want to have to play defense for any more seconds if he made it. And you know
what else? I didn’t want to see Seattle line up and take a knee if he somehow
missed it.
And I knew the ice was
coming. But I was comforted by the knowledge that in the NFL a team cannot call
back to back timeouts. We all knew it was coming and it came. It was somewhat
disconcerting that Bryant went through the motion and put up a kick to the
right off the goal posts that never came back in. I thought then—and still
think now—that Bryant heard the whistles and knew the play was dead and just
went through the motion, I don’t think he really “missed” but it was disconcerting
none the less. The next one would be for real.
It seemed like we were
lined up forever before it was finally snapped and the kick was away. It was
right down the middle. I reached a new stage, finally allowing myself to
believe it was happening.
But there was 8 seconds
left.
And then.
I knew we weren’t
kicking deep. Leon Washington was way too dangerous. I thought we’d squib it or
pooch it to keep it on the field and not allow a runback. They’d have to either
kneel it and go for a miracle on the first play or go for a lateral run back
miracle. I did not expect an onside kick.
Believe it or not, this
was the most stressful moment of the day for me. I just could not believe what
had just occurred. I love Mike Smith. All Falcons fans should. But there are
times when he does things that just make me say “Why? Why are you doing this to
us???????” I couldn’t believe it. I had a flicker of hope that maybe they had
been so caught off guard by this strategy that we had actually recovered but
that wasn’t so. They had the ball at their 46. Only 2 seconds had come off the
clock. They had it at their 46 with 6 seconds left and 2 timeouts and we were
only ahead 2. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d have been almost sure
we were going to hit a pass and be in position for a FG try.
They completed a pass
for 6 yards to our 48 and out of bounds with 2 seconds left. Now I started to
breathe easier and relax, although, regardless of the fact that they had just
signed Ryan Longwell off the street the week before, a 65-yard FG indoors is a
little bit too close to that line. And now they would have a chance at a Hail
Mary. I knew Wilson could get it there. And they had stolen a game from Green
Bay early in the season on a Hail Mary. And then there was all of the other
things that could happen (I’m mainly thinking of penalties here but I could
certainly be talked into entertaining all sorts of possible disasters ranging
from the clock getting stuck to all of our players suffering some sort of group
paralysis which allowed Wilson to run it in).
So Wilson ran around and
then threw it down the right side and yes this was going to be a true Hail Mary
and there was Julio going up and pulling it down and out of harm’s way and we
had it and then I could let loose.
Yes.
Yes!!!
Miracle!!!
But I was still in
shock. And I was sick. I was sick and dirty and I had work in the morning. And
I wanted a fucking cigarette.
However.
How-ev-er.
I would not have to
move away.
I would not have to
contemplate suicide again (that day).
And I wanted an orange Gatorade.
Championship
Round Preview: Championship Sunday. It’s one of the
great days on the sporting calendar. This should be a good one.
I know most of the
country was probably hoping for Seattle-San Francisco but I don’t really give a
fuck at this point.
I will admit that I was
hoping for a Manning-Brady AFC Championship Game, but Ravens-Patriots is pretty
sweet too. And the Ray Lewis story continues for at least one more week. Gronk
is out and that’s obviously a huge deal. The Ravens will come in confident and
I have a hard time seeing the Pats blowing them out. But I certainly think New
England will prevail in the end just as they did last year (though a bit less
dramatically).
I doubt I’ll be able to
focus much on the AFC Game, however.
My team plays first.
Actually, the first game starts at 3:30 this year which I don’t really remember
being the usual starting time. This is usually cliché, but in my team’s present
situation it is no exaggeration: nobody believes in us. Nobody respects us.
Nobody thinks we’re a good team. Nobody thinks we can win it all. And remember,
winning it all at this point means winning 2 games; 1 of them at home, the
other on a neutral field. We’re 14-3. This is our 5th straight
winning season and people still don’t think we’re any good. We’ve made the
playoffs 4 times in the last 5 years and people still don’t think we belong. We
can beat any of the remaining teams. We can certainly beat the 49ers this
weekend at the Georgia Dome. We just might have to in order to get people to
concede that we aren’t just a shitty team that somehow wound up playing at home
in the NFC Championship Game. And perhaps even after beating San Fran people
would still say we don’t belong. We aren’t any good. We can’t win it all. But
you know what? We only need 2 more wins to make put all that respect stuff to
bed forever. Respect? We don’t need no respect if we’ve got a ring.
Sunday’s
Early Game
San Francisco (-3.5) @
Atlanta
Pick: Falcons pull off
the upset
Sunday’s
Late Game
Baltimore (+9.5) @ New
England
Pick: Patriots win but
Ravens beat the spread
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