14-6!

I’m not really one to say, “I told you so,” well yes I am. I TOLD YOU SO. And you thought I pulled that “power of three” stuff out of my ass didn’t you? I’ve been too busy celebrating to double check, but I’m pretty sure this game ended with a three point spread. Those of you who did not follow my advice, despite my stellar record, are a little poorer now because of it. I, on the other hand, can now afford to take a girl out to dinner without going through this scenario: (holding coupon in hand) “I will have the chicken and she will have something of equal or lesser value.” (I thank my friend Radio for that little anecdote). As the resident gambling expert on Subway Chatter I had to start this article quickly boasting about my final (and greatest) win of the season, which brought my playoff record to an absurd 9-2 against the spread (Many of you don’t know this, but I was actually the inspiration for the movie, “Two for the Money.”)

More so than the money though, I am enjoying the Giants’ win as a long-time Giants fan who had to put up with Patriots fans arrogantly dismissing the chances of the Giants to even keep this game close. They didn’t seem to care that the Giants had played them evenly this season, or that the Giants’ defense had the perfect make up to slow down the “unstoppable” Patriots’ offense (a front 4 good enough to create pressure on Brady without sacrificing too many guys to the blitz). They didn’t care that Eli was playing like an All-Pro or that the Patriots weren’t playing with anywhere near the killer instinct they had in the first half of the season. Now I’m not going to pretend like I thought the Giants were going to win this game. I only predicted they’d keep it close and…well the following conversation from Sunday at 2:30pm sums it up pretty well:

Grizzly: “So what do you think?”

MFH: “ I don’t know man, they’re going to have to avoid turnovers and prevent the big play on defense. It’s going to be tough with the Hoodie having two weeks to prepare…”

Grizzly: “I know, but I have a pretty good feeling…”

MFH: “Yeah exactly. When I think about it objectively, I can see them keeping it close, and they could have a chance if everything goes right, but I would have to pick the Pats, gun to my head. However, in my gut I have a pretty good feeling and I don’t know why.”

Grizzly: “Exactly!”

Am I clairvoyant? All the females out there who have seen/heard me do/say the wrong thing would declare no, but you can’t argue with the evidence.

The Giants began the game with the longest drive in Super Bowl history, a drive that was marked by some key third and long conversions and solid play by the eventual MVP, Elijah “F-You, World” Manning. The G-men only got three points out of it, but the drive made me feel good, and all the time it took made me think about the 1991 Super Bowl, when the Giants used ball control to take out the Buffalo Bills. When the Patriots came right back and scored a touchdown, call me crazy, but I wasn’t that nervous, though admittedly I had some help with that thanks to my friend Anheuser-Busch.

At halftime I had a few more phone conversations with friends, and we all had the same feeling: They made a few mistakes and are still only down 7-3. I feel good about that. They really can win this game, but they need to eliminate the mistakes.

Fast forward to the fourth quarter: I won’t degrade it by trying to describe the best quarter in Super Bowl history, a quarter that provided arguably the greatest play in Super Bowl history. All I will say is THAT is how you want to win a championship. THAT kind of excitement and THAT kind of drama, all culminating in a championship winning score with less than a minute to go, capping off an incredible upset of truly historic significance. Even if you are a fan of neither team, hell, even if you only watch the Super Bowl for the (consistently disappointing for five years running) commercials, how could you not be on the edge of your seat, holding your breath during that final Giants drive? But as a Giants fan, is there any way to describe the feeling after a win like that? The Patriots fans actually know what I’m talking about. They celebrated a similar win in 2002 over the Rams. For the rest of you out there, I will make an inevitably futile attempt to capture the elation.

You know that celebrity you have a big crush on? Not the one you want to bang because she’s a smoking hot, A-list actress, but the beautiful, elegant, down-to-earth one you’re sort of in love with even though you’ve never met her. Well imagine you’re at a party and she shows up…with that douchey celebrity heartthrob who’s nailed every hot chick in Hollywood. So you figure you have no chance (not like you every actually did anyway) and make a play for some aspiring actress from Kansas and you tell her you’re the one guy in the group that wrote/produced “The 40 Year Old Virgin,” “Knocked Up,” and “Super Bad” who wasn’t actually in any of them. Then suddenly, three-sixteenths of the way through the party you hear yelling coming from the direction of your dream girl and you look over to see her slap Douchey VonDouchenburg across the face. (Are you picturing this?) After waiting fifteen minutes for her to cool off and for a couple losers to unsuccessfully pick her up with the same lame trash, you somehow muster up the courage to calmly glide up to her and begin talking to her (like a real person). Things are going pretty well and she invites you to an after-party which, obviously, excites the hell out of you…until you realize she’s invited half the party and every guy is much better looking than you. At the after-party you talk to a couple attractive young women you’ve seen in an episode of CSI: Miami and Criminal Minds (which rules by the way).

As you’re making these girls laugh their asses off with your charm and wit, you notice your dream girl eyeing you. You excuse yourself and proceed over to her, thinking, “This will never happen, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” Again things go well, you have her smiling, laughing, gently brushing your arm, playing with…wait, did I say brushing you arm? She touched you? No way! Is she actually into you? What do you do now? You need another drink. So you excuse yourself for a moment and head off for another drink and a pep talk from your buddies who were just rejected by the cast of the most recent Real World. You sip your drink, take a deep breath, and…uh oh, who’s that impossibly good looking, athletically built dude she’s talking to? Is that freaking Tom Brady!? What’s he doing talking to my dream girl? Your buddy sees the bewilderment/despair on your face and informs you that he and Giselle had split up…oh and in a recent interview, your dream girl had singled out Tom Brady as the one guy on the planet she’d like to date. And not that he needs it, but Tom has Randy Moss running wing for him. You all but give up hope when the CSI and Criminal Minds girls walk up to you and give you each of their numbers, saying they have to leave, but they’d love it if you got together with them soon.

You combine the confidence boost this gives you with just the right amount of liquor and decide you will not go down to Tom Brady without a fight. You start to head over to your dream girl and notice the entire Patriots offensive line standing in between you and her (wow, so their relationship really is like in those credit card commercials). You enlist the help of Bob Kelly (the star of Dane Cook’s Tourgasm), who despite being a fat piece of garbage, is a funny dude. He distracts the O-line and you move in. Out of the corner of your eye you spot the woman who is suing Randy Moss (which is amazing since you have no idea what she looks like) and grab her. You and she walk over to your dream girl, Tom Brady, and Randy Moss, who has a panicked look on his face when he sees his accuser. Randy makes a run for it and it’s just you and Tom Brady, still an enormous mismatch (like that even needed to be said). Somehow, though, Mr. Brady isn’t on his game. He misses a few openings, openings that you jump on immediately because you, on the other hand, are out-of-your-mind good tonight. As you continue to make your dream girl laugh, Tom mostly just stands there, interjecting occasionally with dumb comments. He’s not saying anything remotely intelligent or funny, and he’s starting to look like he feels a little awkward… and was that him who just farted? Holy shit, you actually could do this because this girl is really feeling you now!

Suddenly though, Brady snaps out of his trance and starts bringing some real game. He senses the urgency of the situation and asks her if she wants to go back with him and take the private jet he chartered to Paris. What can you say to counter that? You can’t give up though, so you throw something out there, “Sure, you can take a private jet to Paris with the guy who’s won three Super Bowl rings, or you can come with me to a diner and grab some pie. I didn’t hear the Golden Boy offer you any pie.” (and it’s all in the tone of voice, so make sure you get that right). Then you tag it with, “And you’re going to want to make sure to grab a couple friends for my boys over there.”

“Manning throws it up to Burress in the end zone…”

The whole party (world) watches in stunned silence, unable to believe that they just witnessed you, the regular guy, compete with Tom Brady over a girl and the outcome is still up in the air…

“Sorry Tom,” she says, “I just think I’d have more fun with MFH (or insert your own name).”

“AND BURRESS CATCHES IT FOR A TOUCHDOWN!!”

You head out of the party with your dream girl on your arm, with the entire party continuing to watch in stunned silence, smiles on their faces, shaking their heads back and forth in disbelief.

The next morning you wake up in her bed. She’s no longer there, but you know she once was because you can still smell the scent of her perfume. You cross your hands behind your head and think, “Wow, I can’t believe it, it really happened. I actually spent the night with my dream girl.”

Yeah, it’s kind of like that.