"I wish I could quit you!"
Pass it on.
Hey, Blogger tells me that this is my 271st post since TCP was re-started after a brief absence.
What? It's a prime number. Isn't it? Yes, it is.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Monday, January 16, 2006
DY-NOT-STY
My beloved Patriots run of excellence came to an abrupt and ignominious end Saturday. I knew things were going to go badly, well, when, thanks to the unfortunate inelasticity of Carson Palmer's various left knee ligaments, the Pats became slotted to play the Denver Broncos in Denver. I've been following the Patriots in a most irrational and, frankly, childish manner for over 30 years, and the thought of a road game in Denver never fails to summon dread. We once went from 1966 to 2000 without beating the Broncos on the road. New England was forced to play in Denver three straight times in the 80's without a return visit by the Broncos, and we lost every single game. It became an almost yearly ritual; check the schedule, see when we play the Broncos in Denver, chalk up an L.
During the glorious 2003 season, it appeared the Denver curse was about to manifest itself once more on a Monday night when Bill Belichick ordered an intentional safety to give the Broncos a 26-23 lead with time running out. In a testament to the magic quality of that year, the Broncos muffed the free kick, were forced to punt, and the Pats scored the winning touchdown with seconds remaining. Finally! We've found a way to beat the Broncos - give them a free two points to get back seven for a net five. Whatever works. Then this season we were forced to play Denver in Denver yet again, and we fell behind 28-3 before the idiot Bronco fan who wears a barrel had even sat down (well, he never sits down, but you know what I mean).
So, when the Steelers finished off the Bengals, despair began to set in. I derived little pleasure from the conventional wisdom that the Pats were the champs until somebody knocked them off. To my mind, if anyone could do it, it would be the Broncos, scourge of my Pats fan youth. Finally, game day arrived, and after watching the Seahawks dispatch the Redskins, I prepared for the difficult task ahead. Then, with 15 minutes to kickoff...the cable went out! Huh? I looked outside. It was a bit windy. Ok, it was gusting pretty good, but not exactly a Category 3 or anything. I checked the channels again on the downstairs TV, then raced upstairs to check the set in the bedroom. Nothing. NO! If I have to see this thing end, I at least want to SEE this thing end! We don't have an antenna, and we're too far from Philly to get a decent over-the-air signal without one. Well, no problem. I purchased Sirius satellite radio prior to the 2004 season so I could catch all the Patriots play-by-play when they weren't on national TV. I hooked up the home receiver to my computer speakers and listened to the last few minutes of the TD Banknorth pre-game show in my home office while playing Spider Solitaire.
The game started, and the teams traded punts a couple of times in what sounded like a tough field-position battle. I figured the cable would be restored by halftime, and I could watch the second half in high-definition crispness. And then, of course...the power went out!!!! You've got to be kidding me. All my years as a Patriots fan, all my suffering, all my ranting at bad play calling, bad coaching, bad players, bad officiating, all my pounding of tables and punching of walls, all that sorrow and pain, all of which had been miraculously reversed by three joyous Super Bowl celebrations, and now the dynasty was going to end with...me sitting in my car, listening on the satellite radio? Oh, the agony.
It started out well enough, me shivering in my Subaru, parked in the community parking area a few yards from my house. By this time, the wind was now blowing 30-40 mph, and snow was falling. I got bored sitting there, so I drove around the neighborhood to see why the power was out. It looked like a tree had fallen a mile or two down the road, knocking out the juice to a relatively small section of houses of which mine was one. That figures. As for the game, Adam Vinatieri connected on a 40-yard field goal to make it 3-0. And then The Weirdness started. With about 2 minutes left in the half, Kevin Faulk fumbled after running for a first down, and Denver recovered on the Pats' 40. On the next play, Asante Samuel was flagged for what Gil Santos and Gino Cappelletti both called a terrible pass interference penalty in the end zone, and the Broncos immediately scored a 1-yard touchdown to go ahead 7-3. Ellis Hobbs then fumbled the kickoff, and the Broncos added a 50-yard Jason Elam field goal for a 10-3 halftime lead.
Since I hate halftime shows, I scanned the satellite channels for some brief diversion until the second half kickoff. In another example of eerie foreshadowing, the comedy channel had on a live version of Monty Python's "Dead Parrot Sketch". I could only imagine John Cleese saying, "This...is an Ex-Super Bowl Champion!."
The second half started well, with the Pats holding the Broncos, and then adding a 32-yard field goal to make it 10-6. We were stopping Denver's running game, and we were moving the ball well on offense, but we weren't quite able to get it in the end zone. If we could cut down on the turnovers, and punch it in once or twice, we had a decent shot to win the game. Tom Brady drove the Pats down field again late in the 3rd quarter, and after a Corey Dillon run, we had first and goal on the five. Quickly, we took an illegal procedure penalty to push us back to the 10, and then after a 5-yard pass play, it was second and 5. Brady then missed David Givens on a short pass, setting up third and goal on the five. It seemed like we'd have to settle for another field goal at worst, but we still had an opportunity to take the lead if we could find Mike Vrabel or Deion Branch alone in the end zone as we had so many times in the past. Brady dropped back, rolled to his right, and fired a pass toward Troy Brown.
Yes, John, this is an ex-Super Bowl Champion.
Champ Bailey stepped in front of the pass, grabbed it, and ran 100 yards down the sideline until tight end Ben Watson forced a fumble out-of-bounds around the goal line and possibly out of the end zone. There was a review of the play, but I never had a doubt after listening to Gino and Gil. We weren't going to get a miracle reversal. The Broncos maintained possession, and scored another touchdown on the next play to effectively end the New England season. I stayed in the car until Troy Brown fumbled away a punt at the Pats' 15 yard line, and Denver quickly converted that miscue for another 7 points. As if to further mock me, PECO restored power at 11:30 pm, and I was able to tune in just in time to see the Broncos begin their victory kneels.
If nothing else, I will always remember where I was the night the Patriots' dynasty ended: sitting in my fogged-up Subaru, outside of my darkened house, screaming at Champ Bailey. Somehow, now that I think of it, it seems fitting.
During the glorious 2003 season, it appeared the Denver curse was about to manifest itself once more on a Monday night when Bill Belichick ordered an intentional safety to give the Broncos a 26-23 lead with time running out. In a testament to the magic quality of that year, the Broncos muffed the free kick, were forced to punt, and the Pats scored the winning touchdown with seconds remaining. Finally! We've found a way to beat the Broncos - give them a free two points to get back seven for a net five. Whatever works. Then this season we were forced to play Denver in Denver yet again, and we fell behind 28-3 before the idiot Bronco fan who wears a barrel had even sat down (well, he never sits down, but you know what I mean).
So, when the Steelers finished off the Bengals, despair began to set in. I derived little pleasure from the conventional wisdom that the Pats were the champs until somebody knocked them off. To my mind, if anyone could do it, it would be the Broncos, scourge of my Pats fan youth. Finally, game day arrived, and after watching the Seahawks dispatch the Redskins, I prepared for the difficult task ahead. Then, with 15 minutes to kickoff...the cable went out! Huh? I looked outside. It was a bit windy. Ok, it was gusting pretty good, but not exactly a Category 3 or anything. I checked the channels again on the downstairs TV, then raced upstairs to check the set in the bedroom. Nothing. NO! If I have to see this thing end, I at least want to SEE this thing end! We don't have an antenna, and we're too far from Philly to get a decent over-the-air signal without one. Well, no problem. I purchased Sirius satellite radio prior to the 2004 season so I could catch all the Patriots play-by-play when they weren't on national TV. I hooked up the home receiver to my computer speakers and listened to the last few minutes of the TD Banknorth pre-game show in my home office while playing Spider Solitaire.
The game started, and the teams traded punts a couple of times in what sounded like a tough field-position battle. I figured the cable would be restored by halftime, and I could watch the second half in high-definition crispness. And then, of course...the power went out!!!! You've got to be kidding me. All my years as a Patriots fan, all my suffering, all my ranting at bad play calling, bad coaching, bad players, bad officiating, all my pounding of tables and punching of walls, all that sorrow and pain, all of which had been miraculously reversed by three joyous Super Bowl celebrations, and now the dynasty was going to end with...me sitting in my car, listening on the satellite radio? Oh, the agony.
It started out well enough, me shivering in my Subaru, parked in the community parking area a few yards from my house. By this time, the wind was now blowing 30-40 mph, and snow was falling. I got bored sitting there, so I drove around the neighborhood to see why the power was out. It looked like a tree had fallen a mile or two down the road, knocking out the juice to a relatively small section of houses of which mine was one. That figures. As for the game, Adam Vinatieri connected on a 40-yard field goal to make it 3-0. And then The Weirdness started. With about 2 minutes left in the half, Kevin Faulk fumbled after running for a first down, and Denver recovered on the Pats' 40. On the next play, Asante Samuel was flagged for what Gil Santos and Gino Cappelletti both called a terrible pass interference penalty in the end zone, and the Broncos immediately scored a 1-yard touchdown to go ahead 7-3. Ellis Hobbs then fumbled the kickoff, and the Broncos added a 50-yard Jason Elam field goal for a 10-3 halftime lead.
Since I hate halftime shows, I scanned the satellite channels for some brief diversion until the second half kickoff. In another example of eerie foreshadowing, the comedy channel had on a live version of Monty Python's "Dead Parrot Sketch". I could only imagine John Cleese saying, "This...is an Ex-Super Bowl Champion!."
The second half started well, with the Pats holding the Broncos, and then adding a 32-yard field goal to make it 10-6. We were stopping Denver's running game, and we were moving the ball well on offense, but we weren't quite able to get it in the end zone. If we could cut down on the turnovers, and punch it in once or twice, we had a decent shot to win the game. Tom Brady drove the Pats down field again late in the 3rd quarter, and after a Corey Dillon run, we had first and goal on the five. Quickly, we took an illegal procedure penalty to push us back to the 10, and then after a 5-yard pass play, it was second and 5. Brady then missed David Givens on a short pass, setting up third and goal on the five. It seemed like we'd have to settle for another field goal at worst, but we still had an opportunity to take the lead if we could find Mike Vrabel or Deion Branch alone in the end zone as we had so many times in the past. Brady dropped back, rolled to his right, and fired a pass toward Troy Brown.
Yes, John, this is an ex-Super Bowl Champion.
Champ Bailey stepped in front of the pass, grabbed it, and ran 100 yards down the sideline until tight end Ben Watson forced a fumble out-of-bounds around the goal line and possibly out of the end zone. There was a review of the play, but I never had a doubt after listening to Gino and Gil. We weren't going to get a miracle reversal. The Broncos maintained possession, and scored another touchdown on the next play to effectively end the New England season. I stayed in the car until Troy Brown fumbled away a punt at the Pats' 15 yard line, and Denver quickly converted that miscue for another 7 points. As if to further mock me, PECO restored power at 11:30 pm, and I was able to tune in just in time to see the Broncos begin their victory kneels.
If nothing else, I will always remember where I was the night the Patriots' dynasty ended: sitting in my fogged-up Subaru, outside of my darkened house, screaming at Champ Bailey. Somehow, now that I think of it, it seems fitting.
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