The Pro Bowl

I have an ongoing debate with pals over the significance of the Pro Bowl. A lot of the guys I talk to say that they have absolutely no interest in it. Yet, they can tell me everything about what they didn't like about last year's and the years before. In other words, despite their machismo, they watch it. Probably for the same reason I watch it, to see a bevy of great players, favourite players, having a laugh, and to take them in for one more afternoon before the long drought. So I pour out my sentimentality, drink it all in then wait for the next draft.

Poetic Justice

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.

Jonesing

I'm not the type of person who gets bored. Although at times I do get lost. This Sunday was one of those times. I was lost. Jonesing for football. It was the first Sunday without the NFL and I didn't know what to do with myself, couldn't concentrate. Watched a bit of the Sheffield vs Man City soccer game, but I couldn't get into it. Even Tiger Woods' stellar final round didn't satisfy me. I missed my friends. It's funny how that's what they become those football players, friends.

To occupy myself in the evening, I opened a bottle of Australian Shiraz and watched the Actor's Guild Awards. Now, I stopped watching the Oscars along time ago because they make me ill. Last night's award show was actually quite refreshing. It was laid back, the actors were more natural, not so much bling and over-the-top makeup and gowns. They were more real, likable, funny and moving. There were some great actors recognized and given awards for commendable performances, and the speeches were brief and human-like. Javier Bardem and Daniel Day Lewis stole the stage. Lewis's moving homage to Heath Ledger silenced the entire room. I wondered if anyone was left breathing. It was very cool to see these celebrities in that light, especially these days when the idea of 'celebrity' is so out of control. Last night, I really felt that those awards were being given for art, not politics or mere looks. It wasn't football but it was dramatic and entertaining all the same!

What's in a name?

That which we call a Manning, by any other name would play as sweet. Wow, last year Peyton, this year Eli - very cool. I was sorry to see the Colts get knocked out by the Chargers and good old Green Bay not make it further, but there is something extremely satisfying about the Giants making it to the Superbowl. They almost beat New England in the regular season. This is their chance to make up for that loss. Oh, sorry, guys, we meant to beat you last time. We just came back to get the job done right!!

From Bradshaw to Burress to Boss to Tynes to Strahan to Manning to Coughlin to Webster and his superb overtime interception and on and on - Congrats Giants! I wish Shockey was there to share that field with you on the big day. It will be sweet - make it Shakespearean!

Speaking of Being Speechless

One of the many things I've always loved about sports is that when all else fails it's a source for discussion. But I have to ask myself what the hell I'm doing wrong when all discourse has ceased in my recent blogs. When I was writing about soccer, people had something to say. It was good. Then I got all caught up in the NFL and I've had next to no comments on my entries, which is rather unsettling compared to the amount of hits I'm getting. So what am I doing wrong? A lot of people I know have told me that they wish I'd write about something else because they don't really get into sports. I tell them that I write about sports because I enjoy it and it's a great outlet for me being a creative writer and all. I write about sports on my blog because usually it conjures up response, discussion, debate, a good old tete-a-tete. But no.

Ah, who gives a shit. The beauty of these damn things is one can write about whatever the hell they want to write about and it kills me that Indy is out of the playoffs, really kills me. And yet to be completely honest, I must admit I'd rather they lost to an extremely strong and crafty Chargers than go up against New England again and lose. Not that I don't believe that Indy can beat New England which they have proven but in my loyal gut I had a feeling that this was not their year to do it again. Good Ol' Peyton took the Colts loss to the Chargers like the man that he is and didn't blame it on injuries because San Diego has injuries too, they just beat them.

Who knows now. I dreamt that New England lose their next game. I'd love to see the Giants go all the way. They truly look like they have what it takes to do so and I'm not just saying that because of the Manning element but my gut told me so. What do you all think - the millions of you out there who have a thing or two to say about the game!

Speechless

I'm attempting to understand who the hell the late night talk show hosts think they are. Especially when it's been driven home over the last couple of months that without their writers, they are nothing. And did anybody miss them anyway? All the hoopla made over them returning to late night is sickening. Now if the real talent, the writers were returning, that would be something worth celebrating. It's a sin that the real comics, the wizards of late night are left out on the street, still fighting for what they deserve. Especially when they've already proven that they're invaluable. So vain and desperate, Letterman and others devised deals, but if I were their writers, I'd tell them to stick it, and get the last laugh elsewhere. It's amazing how they take so much credit for other people's work. I'd love to see them attempt to go it alone, step up to the microphone, open their mouths and nothing comes out - speechless. But isn't it ironic that Jay Leno and Letterman's first guests tonight are politicians, kindred spirits, another sector of humanity that can't speak without a writer.

It Wasn't Me!

Every team in the NFL is capable of beating another team at any given time. I believe it. But I'm wondering how it feels now for the teams that are left to play the New England Patriots. I'm sure the Giants aren't rattled but are the others sleeping at night? Especially if there just might be a little bad blood between one of them. If there's one thing we've learned about the Patriots - don't add fuel to the fire, man. Just, um, keep your thoughts to yourself - you know, for the team! Did the Jets notice who the Patriots went after in last week's game against Pittsburgh? They annihilated the Steeler's Anthony Smith for opening his mouth a little too wide. Sure the Steelers, like every team, should go to battle expecting to win, but not every team exercises revenge quite like New England. Brady thrives on it and in tomorrow's match-up against the Jets I think we're about to see how Belichick does too. I'm sure the Patriots are foaming at the mouth, like the big bad wolf awaiting little red riding hood's arrival. Come on in boys, welcome to our turf. Now, what was that you said about illegal taping, Mr. Mangini? I can hear the hypothetical answers now, Oh, that, oh yeah, it wasn't me. I didn't say that. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Too late now buster - you're on your own. So when the Patriots come out onto the field, guys, just run the other way!