Miguel the Cranky Spaniard
walked into my Super Bowl salon with an armful of tomato sauce for
bloody Marys and wishful thinking for the Patriots: He’s one of those
guys who cannot truck Eli Manning’s privileged face. And he was mad at
New York for beating America’s populist franchise. And, ya know, I like the Packers as much as the next guys, but I was not really trying to hear the Spaniard; been charting the Patriots’ subtly downward spiral. If LT had played, I'm pretty sure New England wouldn't even have been on the biggest stage.

Sorry, I won money betting on New York. (This dude from the L.A. Times gave
me seven points.) Incredibly, not a lot of people in my house gave the
Giants a chance. They wanted the G-Men to win, but hadn’t summoned up
much faith.

But I told them like I told Miguel:

The
Patriots peaked too early. The decline has been going on forever, I
said, again and again. "At least since Thanksgiving.” And the Giants
just went out there and roughed up the Patriots. Tom Coughlin and Strahan and company were tough, confounding customers.

That
defense took me back, actually. Remember the days when the AFC was
considered soft, back in the Dan Fouts era? The Giants hark back to
that. Teams like the 1985 Bears. Teams, frankly, like the Sam Huff-era
Giants.

(Aside: I’ve been thinking about what a tough guy is, as I’m reading Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up. At the gym, it’s the only book I’ll openly read at the locker room. Reading the Dre
book, I’m totally self-conscious. Dostoevsky or Pamuk, I’m like a
little dink who doesn’t want to be outed as a reader. Just being real
with you. Well, Martin is a comic genius who everybody feels good about
— even in my most insecure place — and I read him with a bookworm’s
pride, allowing his tale of struggle to power me through my workout.
It’s like “Lose Yourself” with even more realistic and comedic attention to detail. [Not half as funky though.]  I cannot recommend it enough. Born Standing Up will last you only three sessions on the stationary bike, I betcha. Steve Martin is a tough guy.

And now, back to our game.)

Shout-out to Steve Smith
for being that journeyman that in 2006 I saw play at USC, and to Eli
Manning for successfully completing one of my favorite public acts:
growing up. I’ll be showing the pouting posture progression to my kids
until they are grown: great, classic stuff. Even poor Tom Brady, who
was thrown around like a rag doll, will now go down in history as the
best example of the limitation of pluck alone. The greatest reader of
all time isn’t good enough to overcome a beastly, beastly line and New
York’s well-executed coverage schemes.

But what of Bill Belichick? Only Walsh knows how hellish his downside might be. And will Giselle still be feeling Brady like she used to?

What an awesome season that was! Maybe the best I've ever seen.