I'd like to say i would be able to break this one down in an interesting and insightful way. However, after half a decade of watching the patriots win in one inconceivable way after another, i find myself completely unable to break this game down, as i fear i already know how it will work.
Indy down by 2, with 4 seconds on the clock, and Vinatieri lines up to win the game with a 42 yard field goal, after a last second heroic drive into field goal position by Payton Manning.
And by the grace of god, he will shank it. i know he will. It's one of those things you can see coming a mile away, you know it's coming. Clutch kick after clutch kick made, and he finally shanks one.
NE goes on to win it's 4th Superbowl in 6 years, going down as one of the all time great dynasties in Superbowl history with one of the weakest superbowl winning squads in our lifetime.
You know, my hatred of the fins is nearly legendary, but I've come to dread hearing about the Patriots in much the same way a POW must dread the sound of his tormentor's voices down the hall. the Pavlovian response grows, i flinch just thinking about this team, my mind goes numb watching them play, or even hearing the team name, and i find myself having neurotic dark fantasies of new tortures for the Patriots to subject me as a football fan to.
I admit it. I'm already sick to the stomach, and might not watch the AFC championship game. and if the patriots end up in the superbowl, i will not watch it, my first missed superbowl since 1986... just to avoid seeing that goofy smile on Marsha's face, and BB with that smug forced smile of his, while the commentators wax poetic about the superfluous superiority and genius of them both.
I don't think i could handle that again.
Indy down by 2, with 4 seconds on the clock, and Vinatieri lines up to win the game with a 42 yard field goal, after a last second heroic drive into field goal position by Payton Manning.
And by the grace of god, he will shank it. i know he will. It's one of those things you can see coming a mile away, you know it's coming. Clutch kick after clutch kick made, and he finally shanks one.
NE goes on to win it's 4th Superbowl in 6 years, going down as one of the all time great dynasties in Superbowl history with one of the weakest superbowl winning squads in our lifetime.
You know, my hatred of the fins is nearly legendary, but I've come to dread hearing about the Patriots in much the same way a POW must dread the sound of his tormentor's voices down the hall. the Pavlovian response grows, i flinch just thinking about this team, my mind goes numb watching them play, or even hearing the team name, and i find myself having neurotic dark fantasies of new tortures for the Patriots to subject me as a football fan to.
I admit it. I'm already sick to the stomach, and might not watch the AFC championship game. and if the patriots end up in the superbowl, i will not watch it, my first missed superbowl since 1986... just to avoid seeing that goofy smile on Marsha's face, and BB with that smug forced smile of his, while the commentators wax poetic about the superfluous superiority and genius of them both.
I don't think i could handle that again.
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