(Just Like) Starting Over

As per usual, I was watching ESPN this past evening when a commercial for Gatorade caught my eye. I was trying to guess which athlete they were going to trot out this time when, to my dismay, I realized that it was yet another commercial about Super Bowl XLII. Generally, I have flipped the channel immediately once I catch a glimpse of this game (which I still plan on blocking out of my head eventually), but for whatever reason, I decided to continue watching on this night.

Bad idea.

After going through a slideshow of in-game pictures, Eli Manning’s inbred face fills up the screen. And what do I see right after? The word ‘clutch.’

WHAT!!

Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t give a fucking shit if the man was the quarterback for the drive that gave them the championship! It’s not as if he looked in complete control, directing traffic as he methodically moved his team down the field. No, let’s take a look at what he actually did:

--Nearly fumbled after failing to protect the ball on a run where he was caught from behind by Adalius Thomas (the same guy who made him fumble on a similar play earlier).

--Chucked up a classic Eli Manning throw to the sideline (with no Giants player in sigh—oh, I did say classic Eli Manning throw, so this is a moot point) that should have been intercepted.

--Danced around the pocket, should have been sacked (the only amazing move by Eli on this drive was the elusion of the sack, but let’s be honest, it was as much luck as anything—a few inches here or there and a defender grasps more than just jersey), and tosses up a heave to a well-covered David Tyree, who makes the most amazing catch in NFL history (and a catch that couldn’t be replicated again in 100 more tries).

--Throws a wide-open lob to his 6’5” receiver after a blown coverage by Ellis Hobbs leaves him without a defender.

So he’s clutch because he didn’t miss Plaxico Burress, who was wide open just 15 yards away!? I don’t give a shit if it is the Super Bowl on the line, unless he just spiked the ball into the ground or threw it twelve rows into the stands, Burress was going to get his mitts on the ball. I’m not trying to take a piss on Eli’s parade, but let’s not force history to remember this event as if Eli pulled a John Elway! It’s bad enough that he received MVP, especially considering the consensus is that since defensive units can’t win it, voters decided to give it to the quarterback!

Ah, I’m going to cut myself off right there, but I feel much better.

This was the first time that I wasn’t completely consumed with sadness while referencing the game. Now it’s half depression, half anger. And do you know what that means? I’m getting my fire back. David’s back, bitches! I am anew, let’s talks sports!

*I'm going to implement something new; from now on, titles of posts will be a derivative of something within the pop-culture lexicon. What exactly is it? For now, you'll just have to guess, but the columns will be tagged with an additional clue to help you on your way. Let the games begin!