I felt very calm throughout the first half of yesterday's Superbowl. It was unpredictable, Brady was getting rattled by heart and soul, and Manning was unflinching. The last few minutes of the game, however, I was in an utter state of panic, head covered by my blanket, relying on Joe Buck and Troy Aikman to tell me what the hell was happening. Still, in my gut, I knew the Giants were going to win. Their defence went for the jugular and the team as a whole stopped at nothing to gain the win. I used to get so nervous watching Peyton Manning with his wizardry and unpredictable changing of the play at the line of scrimmage. It's always unnerving to watch a genius action. Like his brother, Eli was at times otherwordly. He exuded an incredible sense of calm throughout the game that prevented me from seeking refuge beneath the kitchen table and when he threw the final clincher to Plaxico Burress, it was such an incredible feeling of exaltation, like doves exploding from a balloon! Both teams fought like hell to the finish but the phoenix rose in the youngest Manning, heroically, within the entire team itself. Plaxico's tears said it all. It was such a beautiful game to watch - pure.
Congrats Giants!! You deserve it.