You have watched football every weekend for three solid months. You rooted for your team. You shed tears when they lost and you had an extra hop in your step when they won. You threw your remote after yet another ill-advised play and you jumped up from your couch when that same play turned from an “Oh-no” play into an “Oh-yes” play. You stayed up late for overtime thrillers and dragged your semi-dead corpse to work the next morning. You devoured every team-related article you could find to embrace a feeling of aquaintance regarding that particular team. You felt like you were part of the team (using the obligatory “We” term). You defended it in front of your friends and you were almost personally offended when someone dragged them through the mud. You went through all the ups and downs, always hoping that in the end all the heartfelt pain, all the stomachturning moments and all the bitter dissapointment would pay off.
And for two fan bases it did.
For everybody from the outside looking in (media, casual fans, fans of the other 30 teams) it will “just” be another Super Bowl. One more larger than life sporting event in a long list of historic games.
But for the Saints and Colts fans it will be much more. (Hear me out, before you hiss “Well, obviously!” at your computer sarcastically.) This game will alter the lives of thousands of fans. Maybe that 62-year-old life-long Saints fan who used to go to games wearing a paper bag will finally see his team succeed on the biggest possible stage. Maybe that 9-year-old Colts fan will witness his team’s second championship in four years and watch his favorite player cement himself as the greatest player of all time. (“Where are the damn painkillers!!! WHERE ARE THEY!!!)
The point is that this game will mean so much to the respective fan bases that only somebody who was fortunate enough to capture all the emotions that come with watching your team win a championship can understand.
In 2008 I became one of those blessed ones. I watched my beloved Celtics end their drought and finally win a ring again. (I know the Pats and Sox won too, but I only became a Pats fan during that Eagles-Pats Super Bowl in ‘04 when I was first exposed to football and immediately fell in love with the Patriots and I didn’t start to really follow the Red Sox until after ‘07. So I don’t count those championships. And don’t you dare call me bandwagony. DON’T YOU DARE!!!) I remember staying up countless nights (and by nights I mean the wee hours; games would start at 2 a.m. and end at 5 a.m.), most of them school nights, and cheering on my favorite basketball team. I would wear my green St. Patrick’s day edition Red Sox shirt for away games and my blue one (Hey, what can I say, I love St. Patrick’s day.) for home games all throughout the playoffs. Heck, I even exclusively used a green cereal bowl for my obligatory halftime snack, because it brought them luck. (Don’t worry, of course, I washed it everytime. As far as you know, anyway.) I remember falling asleep during the the beginning of the third quarter of the famous comeback in Game 4 of the Finals only to wake up in the fourth again and stare at the score in disbelief. My Celtics had stormed back from a 20-point deficit with 6:04 left in the third quarter to pull within 2 points at the beginning of the fourth. They eventually won the game and put a disheartened and downbeat L.A. team away for good in Game 6.
These are the moments you remember your whole life. These are the memories no one can take from you. These are the stories you hope to tell your grand-children one day. These are the experiences we live for as sports fans.
Come Sunday night one of the aformentioned fan bases will enter this exclusive club while the other will be wondering what hit them. In the end the Super Bowl is exactly what its name says it is: It’s a game of superlatives. One team/fan base will feel ineffable joy and the other will fell indescribable pain. That’s what makes this game so great. That’s what makes it so super.
Now before those of you who are susceptible to tears fill the joint with salt water, let’s quickly move on to the actual game and break this bad boy down:
New Orleans Saints
The Saints have two things going for them and only two: They are damn close to “Nobody-believes-in-us” status (to borrow a term from my mentor, the great Bill Simmons) and every non-Colts fan out there will be rooting for them on Sunday. And really how can you not? With all that city has gone through and all the suffering these fans have endured, there is nobody with a heart in his chest who won’t root for them. Throw in the fact that the Colts just won one a few years ago (Which will always steer the casual fan away, because when it comes to sports the casual fan is like a good Samaritan. He/She likes to spread the love and see those teams succeed that haven’t done so in the past. First ever bible reference. Somewhere Kurt Warner just cracked a smile.) and you have a karma cocktail that might jus be strong enough to have the Colts hugging the toilet.
But other than those intangibles (a.k.a. the official Tim Tebow stat; By the way if my Pats take Tebow in this year’s draft I will be more bummed out than the time I found out that Santa Claus isn’t real. Whoops, did I just lose my entire 6-10 demographic!?) there is not much of substance left. The Saints really are only in the Big Dance by virtue of yet another Brett Favre late game, season-ending interception. (Sorry, Minny fans, but I warned you all season long. I told you to keep your guard up and to not trust this guy. I would be pounding my chest much harder right now if I didn’t feel such empathy for the state of Minnesota. Snow shoveling and Brett Favre!? That’s not even fair anymore.) They are basically the Bizzarro 06-07 Bears. (who played the Colts in Miami; Coincidence!? I don’t think so.) Insetad being great on defense, the Sainst are a prolific offense and the other unit, in this case the Saints defense (in the Bears’ case, basically Rex Grossman) is holding the whole team back. The Saints were outgained by their opponents by a combined 159 yards this postseason. I am gonna go out on a limb and say that that’s not a good sign. Minnesota was the better team and should’ve won. Now you can’t fault the Saints for being opportunistic, but you can’t count on Manning to make an across-the-body-throw and float one in the middle of the field either.
The Sainst have God and the world on their side, but the question is if that’ll compensate for their lack of skill on the field.
(Obviously that’s a bit of an hyperbole. The Saints still are a unbelievably good team with a HOF quarterback spreading the rock around and a terrific coach calling the plays on offense.)
Indianapolis Colts
Well, what can you say about a team that essentially hasn’t lost a real game all season except that “they are who we thought they were”. Namely the best team in football. Now sure we can’t crown their ass yet, but the Saints cannot let them off the hook either. (Always a great watch. Not much more to say than: “Thanks coach!”)
They have a HOF quarterback playing at the highest level we have ever seen anybody play the position. They have an undersized, but fast defense (If I have to hear one more TV analyst/expert say that, I think I’ll have to blow chunks.), which might just be weakened enough by a banged-up Freeney to keep this game a close contest. Their rushing attack is basically non-existent, but why drive a rusty, old station wagon when you can fly business class. Now granted their special teams isn’t really that special (no kick/punt returns for TDs this postseason combined with a measly 6.6 yards per punt return and a pedestrian 24.7 yards per kick return), but who needs dat (Let’s hope Roger doesn’t read this otherwise he’ll have my ass sued quicker than I can say “greedy old man”.) when you have a quarterback who can make Austin Collie look like a superstar.
And really it all comes back to this: The Colts are Peyton Manning. He goes down they go down. But here is the thing: He won’t go down. Manning has developed a savy habit of keeping himself healthy. He has mastered the game to a degree that is ridiculous. Peyton is just so much better than everybody else (And by now you should know how much it pains me to say so.)
That is why I will bet on the Colts (the Colts winning it, combined with Manning as Super Bowl MVP, combined with the Colts winning by 1-6 points and the game ending in regulation; It’s the Super Bowl, hop on the gambling train and don’t look back!) and that is also why I will pick the Colts with my last pick for this NFL season. (What a travesty! My last pick should be one of joy and happiness, instead I’ll be grumpy all day, because I picked my most despised foe to win yet another Super Bowl. I will now slam my head against the desk one more time, for old times sake.)
Gut pick: Colts
++BONUS CONTENT++
How to save the Pro Bowl
I didn’t watch the flag football game also known as the Pro Bowl, but I am gonna go out on a limb and say I didn’t miss anything. After all the NFL’s version of the All-Star game has very little to do with real football: no blitzing, no hits, no running, no excitment.
It’s a joke, but maybe there is a way to get this right after all. To do so we have to disect the problem first.
Here is the thing: First of all football is not the right sport for an All-Star game. Take basketball for instance, the guys are having fun, they’re putting on a show, you’ll see hellacious dunks, flashy dribbles, and so on and so forth. Now granted there isn’t much defense, but it still is fun. Same goes for baseball. Football on the other hand is a sport you just can’t play half-heartedly or to borrow an A-Rodian term — loosie-goosie. The game of football is one of intensity and tenacity. Don’t get my wrong baseball and basketball are too, but you can still have watchable games if you loosen up.
So really the NFL has two options regarding the Pro Bowl: a) either cancel it, which they won’t do, because they like to rake in the green by the truckload, or b) have them play for something that’s worth playing for, a prize if you will.
Now since a) ain’t happening let’s look at b):
Why not borrow from baseball and have the two conferences battle it out for home-field advantage in the Super Bowl.
How you ask?
Glad you did.
So last year the NFC won. This would mean that the Saints would receive two thirds of the Super Bowl tickets. They could sell those tickets to their fans and have a significant home-field advantage in the process. The other third goes to Indy.
And BAMMM!!! You have a Pro Bowl that all of a sudden will be exciting as hell, because the best players of the National Football league have a reason to play hard. You’ll have a Super Bowl with a great crowd, because all the casual fans, celebs, CEOs and rich people will be replaced with real fans who actual give a crap and don’t just go there to be seen or turn the whole thing into one big business dinner with a little football on the side.
This is the part of the post where you’ll say: “”Wait a minute, but if the NFL is all about making some dough why would they cut the ticket prices for the Super Bowl!?”
And that is were the real genius of the idea comes into play. The NFL will be able to make all that money back through the Pro Bowl, because now that once meaningless game is basically the hottest must-see sporting event in all the land. Everybody will want to go and see the best of the best battle it out in a real game with tremendously high stakes. Every player will play his guts out, because a) they mostly come from already great teams which is why they have a reasonable chance to play in next year’s Super Bowl and b) you never know who might get there in the end with the Saints being this year’s prime example. So really there is no downside.
Everybody wins and I finally have a reason to watch the Pro Bowl.