That about sums its up. Ugh.
In the end, I pulled down some pretty good tickets to Super Bowl XLII. Club section for FACE value. Now that is a score. I must go out of my way to thank Chris, my brother-in-law, and Jonathan, his cousin, got tickets from ... the New York Giants. Oh, the irony. The package included a hotel room, and we were "guests of the Giants." Omen #1
The weekend started well. My buddy Ross and I were able to grab a direct flight to Phoenix on Friday morning. Once there, we took a trip out to the Giants team hotel to get credentials for transportation and such (we were politely denied because such credentials were for players and family only). However, we mulled about the team hotel and grabbed dinner at a nice restaurant there.
The place was empty, except one table next to us. That table was Cris Carter - the HBO Sports commentator and former NFL wide receiver who was nominated for the Hall of Fame, and due to hear the results the next day - and his entourage. They were relaxed and reminicing about great plays of Cris' career. As they got up to leave, I contemplated dropped a "good luck," but chose to just leave him alone. He didn't get in.
From there, we hit Scottsdale and soaked in the atmoshere. One club employee tells us that the Giants were all in there earlier in the week, but no one had seen the Patriots. That makes me feel good.
Saturday morning, we played Whisper Rock Golf Club. Whisper is a reclusive, private course that maybe sees 25 or 30 players a day. There were 270 golfers there for a shotgun start Saturday morning. I ran into Jerome Bettis, the former Steeler running back, and Kordell Stewart, the former Steeler QB, in the pro shop. Kordell is semi-famous/notorious for his postgame quote after the Patriots beat the Steelers a few years ago in the AFC Championship game, that "sometimes the better team doesn't win." Omen #2.
Preparing for the shotgun start, a rumor among the caddies is that Peyton and Eli are both there. Again, I feel good, but come to my senses and realize there is no way Eli is there on Saturday morning. He isn't. However, who stolls up to the golf cart in front of us - Peyton Manning. Joy that Peyton is playing golf on Super Bowl weekend - priceless. Omen? You tell me?
Golf was great. I never actually saw the final scorecard, but I played with mixed results. A couple of pars, a legitimate putt for birdie, plus a few triple bogies.
We had invites to the Marquis Jet/Jimmy Johnson party on Saturday. Originally, we thought it was Saturday night, but it turns out it was from 1-6. Grr. Golf ended around 3. We hustled over there for the last hour and a half. We heard Jimmy Johnson speak, but missed the speech given by, none other than, Bill Belichick. We heard from numerous attendees that Belichick was pleasant and ineresting. He toook questions and gave REAL answers. Hmmm. Belichick who has been strangely gitty all week, was pleasant ?!? That should have been Omen #3.
Saturday was capped off by a nice dinner with our friend Aaron who had hosted us for golf earlier in the day.
Game day started off well. Transportation to the satdium was a looming issue; however, we grabbed an open cab around 11am, and made our way. Although we didn't have passes to any pre-game events, the stadium has a nice bar/restaurant area. We got into this place, Shout, before they started charging a cover. Shout was an interesting place. They had dueling pianos with bar-type singers at each. The all-request show involving tipping the pianoman to play your song. Suprisingly great fun. Each teams fans requesting local favorites, while the other team tipped the players to stop playing. I must say, the Pats fans were surprisingly cocky! It was unsettling. Omen #4 - when did New England sports fans become so fate-tempting. They requested songs like, "We are the Champions." Let me be clear, I fully expected the Pats to win, but I would never tempt karma by singing along to "We are the Champions" 2 hours BEFORE THE GAME!
On that note, I see a guy headed into the stadium with a red, white a blue face paint of 19-0. Oh the shame.
The seats were great. The game was painful. The Giants were throwing everything they had at the Patriots and ... it was working. Brady had no time as the offensive line (particularly Matt Light) was getting buried. When I go to games, I don't always watch the ball. I try and watch things that you typically don't see on TV. Countless times, I watched Moss move a step past his defender, only hear the crowd make a roar - Brady sacked, hit, or forced to dump it off.
Halftime was an uncomfortable 7-3 lead. Ross and I had gone through match-ups all weekend long, and were convinced that the Patriots would dominate. 7-3 was unthinkable. However, there was solice in mid-game adjustments to come. The only problem was they didn't.
When the Patriots took the lead on a real drive capped off by a Randy Moss touchdown pass with 2:40 left - it was over. I knew the Patriots would win. The only problem was they didn't.
The Manning spin out of a sack was sureal, and the Burress TD pass was a dagger. The place erupted on that play, and I flopped back into my seat wanting to throw up. Like Bill Belichick, I too was out before the final tick ran off the clock. Stunned.
Frankly, the loss would have been easier if they were 16-3. The sole fact that this game meant so much, made the season feel worthless. I felt robbed. The Giants played well - very well - but what a time to pick to play your worst game of the year.
Ross caught the redeye home (I had meetings in CA on Monday and Tuesday), and Chris and Jonathan invited me to the Giants team post game party. Although it was very kind of them to invite me, I was in no mood to party. I went to bed - feeling empty.
I have yet to see the TV version of the game, and will likely have comments after that.
For now, its just - ugh.
In the end, I pulled down some pretty good tickets to Super Bowl XLII. Club section for FACE value. Now that is a score. I must go out of my way to thank Chris, my brother-in-law, and Jonathan, his cousin, got tickets from ... the New York Giants. Oh, the irony. The package included a hotel room, and we were "guests of the Giants." Omen #1
The weekend started well. My buddy Ross and I were able to grab a direct flight to Phoenix on Friday morning. Once there, we took a trip out to the Giants team hotel to get credentials for transportation and such (we were politely denied because such credentials were for players and family only). However, we mulled about the team hotel and grabbed dinner at a nice restaurant there.
The place was empty, except one table next to us. That table was Cris Carter - the HBO Sports commentator and former NFL wide receiver who was nominated for the Hall of Fame, and due to hear the results the next day - and his entourage. They were relaxed and reminicing about great plays of Cris' career. As they got up to leave, I contemplated dropped a "good luck," but chose to just leave him alone. He didn't get in.
From there, we hit Scottsdale and soaked in the atmoshere. One club employee tells us that the Giants were all in there earlier in the week, but no one had seen the Patriots. That makes me feel good.
Saturday morning, we played Whisper Rock Golf Club. Whisper is a reclusive, private course that maybe sees 25 or 30 players a day. There were 270 golfers there for a shotgun start Saturday morning. I ran into Jerome Bettis, the former Steeler running back, and Kordell Stewart, the former Steeler QB, in the pro shop. Kordell is semi-famous/notorious for his postgame quote after the Patriots beat the Steelers a few years ago in the AFC Championship game, that "sometimes the better team doesn't win." Omen #2.
Preparing for the shotgun start, a rumor among the caddies is that Peyton and Eli are both there. Again, I feel good, but come to my senses and realize there is no way Eli is there on Saturday morning. He isn't. However, who stolls up to the golf cart in front of us - Peyton Manning. Joy that Peyton is playing golf on Super Bowl weekend - priceless. Omen? You tell me?
Golf was great. I never actually saw the final scorecard, but I played with mixed results. A couple of pars, a legitimate putt for birdie, plus a few triple bogies.
We had invites to the Marquis Jet/Jimmy Johnson party on Saturday. Originally, we thought it was Saturday night, but it turns out it was from 1-6. Grr. Golf ended around 3. We hustled over there for the last hour and a half. We heard Jimmy Johnson speak, but missed the speech given by, none other than, Bill Belichick. We heard from numerous attendees that Belichick was pleasant and ineresting. He toook questions and gave REAL answers. Hmmm. Belichick who has been strangely gitty all week, was pleasant ?!? That should have been Omen #3.
Saturday was capped off by a nice dinner with our friend Aaron who had hosted us for golf earlier in the day.
Game day started off well. Transportation to the satdium was a looming issue; however, we grabbed an open cab around 11am, and made our way. Although we didn't have passes to any pre-game events, the stadium has a nice bar/restaurant area. We got into this place, Shout, before they started charging a cover. Shout was an interesting place. They had dueling pianos with bar-type singers at each. The all-request show involving tipping the pianoman to play your song. Suprisingly great fun. Each teams fans requesting local favorites, while the other team tipped the players to stop playing. I must say, the Pats fans were surprisingly cocky! It was unsettling. Omen #4 - when did New England sports fans become so fate-tempting. They requested songs like, "We are the Champions." Let me be clear, I fully expected the Pats to win, but I would never tempt karma by singing along to "We are the Champions" 2 hours BEFORE THE GAME!
On that note, I see a guy headed into the stadium with a red, white a blue face paint of 19-0. Oh the shame.
The seats were great. The game was painful. The Giants were throwing everything they had at the Patriots and ... it was working. Brady had no time as the offensive line (particularly Matt Light) was getting buried. When I go to games, I don't always watch the ball. I try and watch things that you typically don't see on TV. Countless times, I watched Moss move a step past his defender, only hear the crowd make a roar - Brady sacked, hit, or forced to dump it off.
Halftime was an uncomfortable 7-3 lead. Ross and I had gone through match-ups all weekend long, and were convinced that the Patriots would dominate. 7-3 was unthinkable. However, there was solice in mid-game adjustments to come. The only problem was they didn't.
When the Patriots took the lead on a real drive capped off by a Randy Moss touchdown pass with 2:40 left - it was over. I knew the Patriots would win. The only problem was they didn't.
The Manning spin out of a sack was sureal, and the Burress TD pass was a dagger. The place erupted on that play, and I flopped back into my seat wanting to throw up. Like Bill Belichick, I too was out before the final tick ran off the clock. Stunned.
Frankly, the loss would have been easier if they were 16-3. The sole fact that this game meant so much, made the season feel worthless. I felt robbed. The Giants played well - very well - but what a time to pick to play your worst game of the year.
Ross caught the redeye home (I had meetings in CA on Monday and Tuesday), and Chris and Jonathan invited me to the Giants team post game party. Although it was very kind of them to invite me, I was in no mood to party. I went to bed - feeling empty.
I have yet to see the TV version of the game, and will likely have comments after that.
For now, its just - ugh.
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