Lazy Sunday

Gwen took off yesterday to go back to "the States". She'll be staying in Pittsburgh and taking her boards there on Wednesday. On Monday night, she's taking her dad and step-dad to the Steelers game against the hated Ravens. I don't believe either of those men have ever been to an actual Steelers game live before - a fact which seems nuts to me because both have lived in Pittsburgh almost their entire lives and been long-standing die hard fans. (Her step-dad is a retired steel-mill worker for Christ's sake.) Regardless, Gwen bought them the tickets as a combined birthday and Christmas gift for the both of them (one of the coolest gifts ever, I might add). They're going to be about 12 rows up on the 35 yard line behind the Steeler's bench, so if you're watching MNF this week, see what you can see. (I can imagine a tenacious Gwen, all bundled up in the 20 degree weather, waving a terrible towel with such zeal that one might think that the evil Ravens were the embodiment of one George "W" Bush himself at that moment and a Steeler's victory would mean his instant impeachment...)

The highlight of my weekend came after I dropped Gwen off at the airport yesterday. It just so happened that prior to departing I loaded up the BMW's CD player with "driving friendly" music and as I sped back onto the autobahn for the one hour, fifteen minute drive home, the one and only Transformer's Soundtrack queued up. Within minutes I was rocking out and driving like a maniac to "You got the Touch", "Dare", and the rest. I didn't break my old speed record (for which I blame the thick fog), but I must have averaged like 95 mph the whole trip home, gripping the steering wheel, weaving around traffic, and envisioning that Starscream himself was in the sky above, hot on my tail and strafing the singed asphalt I'd left behind only milliseconds earlier. But in the end, I schooled him of course, delivered the "plans" safely to Optimus Prime, eventually foiled Megatron, and proved once again that: You can win if you dare.


The rest of my Saturday was pretty subdued. Other than a brief workout, I spent most of the day playing ridiculous amounts of Madden. Unfortunately, I had one of the more crushing computer defeats that I can remember. It was the NFC championship game. My 16-0 Giants had steamrolled the hapless Seahawks 63-10 in the divisional round, and were thinking pretty highly of themselves, perhaps even starting to argue about where they'd be regarded amongsth the other all-time great teams, when the next best NFC team, the 13-3 Panthers rolled into town. The Panthers were solid, of course, but nothing that the G-men, led by 2000 yard rusher and league MVP Tiki Barber and all-world tight end Jeremey Shockey couldn't handle. (Not to mention the league's best defense, number 1 against the run AND the pass, and in points allowed, and home to defensive MVP middle linebacker Antonio Pierce, record breaking sack leader (26) Michael Strahan, and three pro bowl cornerbacks in the secondary.) I mean seriously, did the Panthers even have a chance? What transpired, though, was like something out of the twilight zone. Early on the game was a grudge match. The Panther's defense proved stingy, and Eli and corps had trouble moving the ball. (I credit a computer John Fox for putting together one hell of a game plan.) On the flip side, the Panther's offense was putting up miracle plays involving all sorts of missed tackles, weird deflections, and other CRAP which led to a 17-10 Panthers lead at halftime.

Not fazed, however, I made sure that the hideously pixelated computer Tom Coughlin gave the boys a fiery half-time speech and resolved to come out in the second half and take it to 'em. Unfortunately, things didn't start out too well. The G-men got stuffed on their opening possession, then gave up a 92 yard run to Nick Fucking Goings (the third string rusher - both Foster and Davis were out). Then Eli got intercepted for 6 on the the next drive. Before I knew it, Carolina scored again on a deep pass (where all-pro Will Allen fell down) and it was 38-10 Panthers with like 3 minutes left in the third quarter (in a game with 6 minute quarters).

Resolute, I rallied my boys and started to storm back. It was sluggish, but the next drive featured FOUR successful FOURTH down conversions (the last of which was a phantom pass interference call possibly called in by a computer Paul Tagliabue to appease the vast New York market share...), the Giants pushed it in for a touchdown and had given themselves the emotional spark they needed. The defense tightened up and before I knew it I had scored again with maybe 3 minutes left in the game. Another Carolina 3 and out, another Eli touchdown (to fan favorite Shockey no less) and it's a 7 point game with about 2 minutes left. After ANOTHER Carolina three and out (and after using all three time outs) the Giants got the ball back with about 1:30 left deep in their own territory.

Eli started moving the ball downfield again, hurrying up to the line, and keeping things moving. With about 30 seconds left the G-men had worked it down to the Carolina 30 yard-line using a brilliant array of crossing patterns and sideline work. Then, the Panthers tightened up one final time. Eli made a critical mistake and took a sack on third down from the 21 yard line. With no time outs, everyone scrambled back to get set. With 2 seconds left, the ball was snapped - Eli dropped back and launched a desperate arching pass in the direction of Plaxico Burress but the Panthers had him double covered. The pass was swatted away harmlessly to the turf in the endzone as the clock hit zero and the Giants undefeated season came to a brutal halt. As computer-Shockey and computer-Eli moped off the field with their heads down, I couldn't help but feel ultimately responsible. (The lesson is: Never let a 16-0 season go to your head. It's meaningless unless you win the Madden Super Bowl.)

In disbelief, I just sat and stared at the TV for a few minutes. Then, after learning that the next week the Panthers LOST the super bowl to the 13-3 Kansas City Chiefs, (a team which I had thoroughly dismantled earlier in the regular season), I saved the game, shut off the power to the playstation, and went and fetched a beer. Oh, the heart break of Madden. I haven't had this big a loss to the Madden computer since Kerry Collins got intercepted from 5-yards out against the Rams on the final play of the NFC championship game in 2002 (trying to hit Ike Hilliard on a slant on a 4th down going for the win). I can't lie. It hurts. It hurts bad. But there's always next year.

(Interestingly enough, "next year" started this morning...)

Almost time for real football.