Hard to ever tired of these.

(* Copyright New England Patriots, 2007)

Can't decide if this is great or merely interesting, but my dog liked it a lot. Here's a Bud Light commercial that was supposed to have been shown during the Super Bowl, but was banned by the FCC. Found this over at BostonSportz. It's new to me, anyway.

We have that same conversation here at Deadspin almost daily.

Cut The Cheese [BostonSportz]

Gather 'round, fans of the New York Football Giants, and let me weave you the tale of one magical Super Bowl.

The two teams pitted against each other couldn't have followed more different paths. Team 'A', having just hoisted the Lombardi Trophy a couple of years earlier, had made short work of their opponents on their way to the best record in the league, in large part due to their MVP-Award-winning quarterback and the record-breaking offense—widely considered one of the greatest in history—at his disposal. After a dismal start to the regular season, Team 'B' had eked into the playoffs by the skin of their teeth, courtesy of some key second-half wins on the shoulders of an unproven quarterback about whom just about everyone was maintaining serious doubts. The two factions had squared off during the regular season and although Team 'B' had unexpectedly made a game of it, in the end, they were simply overmatched by the charmed powerhouse that was their opponent. Going into the Super Bowl, Team 'A' was a two-touchdown favorite.

To everyone's great surprise, the rematch-for-a-championship turned out to be a thriller. With both sides scratching and clawing for every point, the lead changed hands a number of times throughout the contest. As improbably as the course of the game ran, its ending would belong in a storybook: Team 'B's quarterback led his squad on a white-knuckle drive downfield to put them within striking distance of a seemingly impossible final attempt at a score with precious few seconds remaining on the clock...but score Team 'B' did, winning the Super Bowl by three points in one of the biggest upsets in the game's history.

That story makes you happy, doesn't it, Giants fans? Puts a smile on your face, warms your heart. I bet you like Team 'B', don't you?

As well you should...because they're the 2001-2002 New England Patriots.

And when they won they Super Bowl, it wasn't just me and my fellow lifelong Patriots fans who were happy; outside of St. Louis (and a few people in Los Angeles who were kidding themselves), the whole world was happy. While you likely wouldn't admit to it now, I'd even wager that some of you were happy. Not necessarily because you'd wanted New England to win, but because they were the team that no one had given a chance. David had slain Goliath, and for a few shining moments, every sports fan in the country could savor the ideal of sports—anything can happen—making an all-too-rare appearance as a reality. For that reason, we all couldn't help but like the Patriots at least a little bit, whether or not they were our team.

Five years later, I would tell people I was a Patriots fan; they would tell me I was a loudmouthed, racist, bandwagon-riding douchebag who should be killed.

What did I miss?

The short answers that a Patriot hater ("Patrater?") might have given are numerous—"two additional Super Bowl victories", "a quarterback who's more handsome than I am and has regular sex with more supermodels (1) than I do", "said hated quarterback being granted one of the best receiver corps in the NFL at the peak of his career", "the unlikely rise to dominance by the Boston Red Sox", "the return of the Boston Celtics to a championship-caliber status", "SpyGate"—and likely interconnected, in his mind, as one long answer. While I did not miss any of those occurrences, I was rather surprised that people seemed to think that I bore responsibility for them. When the 2007 season began, I was the same person I was in 2002, yet the people who'd been anonymously happy for me (or at least tolerant of my existence) then because the Patriots won were now anonymously despising me with vitriol because the Patriots kept on winning. Flattering as it was (admittedly somewhat more so in the former instance), any individual recognition that I received in either case was largely undeserved.

As a devotee of consistently-losing sports franchises throughout my formative years and beyond, I'm no stranger to the active dislike of dominant teams (see: New York Yankees, 1919-2003), but my impotent rage has always been directed in much larger part at the teams themselves than at their fans (I'm getting married on Saturday and I won't be surprised if my best man wears Robinson Cano Underoos; how much can I really hate those people?). The tide that turned against those who rooted for the Patriots—and all Boston sports fans in general—was like nothing I'd seen before, even taking into account that (1) I was (and am) biased and (2) being on the receiving end of popular hatred was still a relatively new experience. Sure, nobody who doesn't like the Yankees likes the team's fanbase as a whole, but the argument never gets much more specific than "Yankees fans are spoiled, arrogant pricks" (although that actually would have been the argument prior to 2001, when "spoiled" was replaced by "deluded"). But to announce my allegiance to the Patriots was to risk casting myself in the eyes of anyone without roots in the Boston area as a drunken, braying white supremacist.

The charges of racism, of course, predominantly came from white people whose closest encounter with African-American culture was a purchase of Will Smith's Willennium. Yes, Boston's history of race relations is not pretty—we all saw that HBO Red Sox documentary narrated by Ben Affleck—which is exactly in accordance with the history of race relations throughout America (and, to take it even further, the world)...or were you not aware, Cleveland Indians and Washington Redskins fans, that your teams' cute little mascots are also horribly maligned human beings? Given that fact, does being from those cities necessarily make you a racist? No ... at least not any more than simply being from America does (although that doesn't erase Boston's checkered past, nor does it diffuse the fact that the mascots in question are mind-bogglingly offensive).

This argument inevitably fell on deaf ears because, in that indefinable moment when the New England Patriots were transformed by public opinion from scrappy underdogs into the Evil Horde, the die had been likewise cast for the majority perception of their fans. Somewhere between 2002 and 2007, solely because I cheered for a particular professional sports team (or two), I had become a douchebag in the eyes of anyone who didn't happen to agree with me ... and there was nothing I could do to change it.

There was, however, something the New York Giants of New Jersey could do. And on February 3, 2008, when those scrappy underdogs bested the mighty, reviled New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLII, they set the change in motion.

Enjoy your moment, Giants fans, Jets fans pretending to be Giants fans and all who've been jumping on the bandwagon since that absolutely horrendous pass hit David Tyree in the head and got stuck there: outside of New England (and a large percentage of bookmakers), the world is happy for you. Keep on smiling, keep on celebrating, keep on lauding your team's accomplishment at every available opportunity. And one day very soon, you will wake up to discover ... that you are all douchebags. Pedophile douchebags is what I'm suggesting be the modifier: you are all pedophile douchebags whose hero is an overgrown Sea Monkey that constantly looks to be on the verge of tears. Eli Manning could fall ass-backwards into a Super Bowl victory with the East Rutherford Giants every season for the rest of his God-affronting career and history will never concede that he is a talented football player by any stretch of the imagination. Peyton Manning is Ellen Ripley, and Eli Manning is those botched clones of Ellen Ripley in the tubes in Alien: Resurrection that beg the one successful clone to kill them. But no one did, and now he's a Super Bowl MVP, and now you have no one to blame but the football team you support for the fact that you are all douchebags.

And now I have that same football team to thank for the fact that I'm not.

For the rest of you who have dedicated yourselves to blindly hating Patriots fans for the last several years, I acknowledge that this revelation is not an easy thing to wrap your tiny heads around. However, by your own established math, the Patriots' dominance made their fans douchebags. A team who collapses on the game's greatest stage cannot be viewed as dominant; ergo, its fans are not douchebags (or at least not more so than any other team's fans). Like it or not (and I know that you don't), I'm just another guy who roots for a team that didn't win the Super Bowl, now. Just like you.

Can you believe those Giants fans, all dancing and happy? Christ, it's been more than a week already—get over yourselves. What a bunch of douchebags.

I also happen to know that they molest children. It's a historical fact.

At first the petition drew notice from outraged Patriots fans who were sure that their team had been robbed due to some sort of timekeeping shenanigans. Then the comments quickly evolved into comedy gold as people signed in to mock the Pats fans. And then, predictably, came the boring Tom Brady is gay jokes and a bunch of racist and pornographic nonsense, as people who type with their knuckles got wind of it. But for the first 2,000 comments or so, it was pretty entertaining. Here's a sampling, with the serious comments listed first:

• That whole giants drive needs to be reviewed especially the deep throw to tyree our defense was clearly held by the jerseys and facemasks but not one of the penalties were called. — Charles Novak

• I don't know much about the rules of the NFL but as a Patriots fan if this is true I feel cheated. If this is true there should seriously be a replay of the last 1:40 of the Super Bowl. I didn't bet on it myself, but a lot of people lost or gained a lot of money on this game and the real outcome deserves to be known. — Eric Frenz

• Give the patriots their rightful win. — Meaghan O'Toole

• Only reviewing these rules is an understatement. Two players (Richard Seymour and Adalius Thomas) were also held on the 3rd and five play of the giants in the fourth quarter. This needs to be reviewed as well. — Tag Muggia

• I was at SB42 and watched the travesty of the biggest screwjob in history take place. Justice must prevail. — Colin McSorely

• I feast on your tears — your insipid, ignorant tears. — Cry More

• There must be an investigation—I kept track of the time using a metronome and a calorie counter, and there was definitely a discrepancy. I'm shocked no one has mentioned the late hit on Brady by the field judge! — Troy Tranes

• Hey guys, I just wanted to say that as the coach of the New England Patriots, I think that...whoops, one second left. Gotta run!!!! — Bill Belichick

• I'll be holding a press conference today to announce whether or not I am signing this petition. — Kevin Hart

• Guess what? Giesle and I got back together. — Leonardo DiCaprio

• I altered the deal Pats fans. Pray I don't alter it any further. — Darth Vader

• Anyone notice the way the light gleams off Brett Favre's helmet? — Joe Buck

• Don't just play the last 1:40 over. play until the Pats win, even if it's a bajillion years. I live vicariously through Tom Brady's accomplishments and I can't quit imagining him in his mansion, plowing Gisele, but with tears rolling down his cheeks. All because people are jealous of the Pats. — Shaun Patrick O'Toole Flannegan

• Don't hate on NY or my rooster will cut you. — Pedro Martinez

• Osi Umenyora took a dump on our hearts. :( — Dick Peters

• This petition makes the Super Bowl loss that much sweeter. From the bottom of our hearts, thanks for this. — The Nation

Gupta has recently apologized for the ads and pulled the panda one from the airwaves, but this whole thing is probably going exactly to plan.

1. Create racist commercials that are sure to cause controversy and be seen by millions;
2. Pull ads when outcry gets too loud;
3. Profit. (Gupta says his company will make $3 for ever dollar spent on the ads).

Sound sleazy? Well, InfoUSA is a data collection company that sells leads to telemarketers. Is there anything lower?

Gupta is taking to an extreme what marketers have known for years — that merely placing an ad on the Super Bowl broadcast can give a company enormous cachet. Small companies suddenly can appear formidable simply by shelling out the cover charge — an average of $2.7 million for 30 seconds of air time this year. "The beauty of our Super Bowl ad is, it's like being invited to the White House," Gupta said. "You have the bragging rights. Instant credibility."

And Mr. Gupta knows of what he speaks. He's a huge Hillary Clinton supporter who has donated millions to both Clintons since the 1980s. And he's been in trouble with his stockholders recently, with allegations that he has wasted funds on taking the Clintons on vacations in the private company jet. That's been bothersome to Hillary's campaign; which has distanced itself from Gupta in recent weeks.

So anyway, if some good is to come of all of this, perhaps it will be an end to fake Chinese accents. I've never found one remotely funny; not even when Asians do them (hello Margaret Cho). I'm sure George Lucas must agree.

And sue me if you wish, but I don't find pandas all that amusing either. You're gonna tell me to turn off my cell phone at the movies? Fur covered bastards ...

Clinton Backer's Ties To Powerful Cut Both Ways [New York Times]
When The Advertiser's Goal Is To Be The Worst [St. Louis Post-Dispatch]
Racist Super Bowl Commercials [iPara Justicia Y Libertad]

Here's the version that aired. Still, even though they had all the bases covered, I still would have liked to have been in the control room when Manning threw that last TD pass, as Fox technicians scrambled to find the tape that had the Giants' version of the commercial. "Where is it? Hal ... you were using it as a doorstop? Jesus!"

Alternate Perfectville Commercial By Reebok Had The Patriots Won [Larry Brown Sports]

Well folks, this is the end. It's now the offseason again, and as much as I'd like to piss and moan about the desert stretch of seven football-free months that lay ahead, it's hard to complain much when the NFL gave us such a rewarding, pants-dampening sendoff. I said to the Maj after the game that it would take at least a few days for the end of that game to truly sink in, and I still don't think it ha...

HOLY FUCK, THE GIANTS FUCKING WON? AND THE GAME IS FUCKING OVER? AND IT ACTUALLY COUNTED? THEY'RE GONNA LET THAT SHIT STAND? HOOOOOOOOOOLY SHIT! AY CHIHUAHUA! HOLY DONKEY DICK!

/gets drunk on floor varnish

Time was, I'd happily segue from the Super Bowl straight into NBA/college basketball/hooker prowling season with relative ease. And I still follow those sports, along with golf and baseball and what not, every day. I'm primarily an NFL fan, but I'm also a sports fan in the more general sense.

But you know what? For a guy who likes sports, I sure as shit don't watch a whole hell of a lot of them.

There's a big reason that the NFL is the dominant sports league in America, and it's a reason that few people ever talk about. And it is this: it's EASIER to be a football fan than a fan of some other sport. The NFL demands far less time from diehard fans than a sport like basketball or baseball. All it takes is three hours a week watching your favorite team for a few months, and a few extra hours of viewing during the playoffs. In a world with movies, TV and gonzo cyberporn, that's a huge plus. You can watch pretty much every game without it being a huge drain on your schedule. And that leaves plenty of time left over for playing video games, hanging out with your family and gunning down liquor store clerks.

But baseball? Holy shit. If you want to be a diehard baseball fan, you pretty much have to forsake the outside world to watch every game. THEY EVEN PLAY TWO GAMES IN ONE DAY, FOR SHIT'S SAKE! DURING WORK HOURS! I understand why the players show up for those things. They get paid. But fans? There are doctors on call who are less put upon.

But just because I don't have the actual time to WATCH baseball or basketball games doesn't mean I'm not a fan. Or does it? I have a decent working knowledge of pretty much every NBA team and its management. And I happily shoot the shit with guys when interesting stuff pops up, like the Gasol trade last week. Does he make the Lakers a bona fide title contender? How come he couldn't keep Memphis from being so shittastic? Is there any relation between Pau Gasol and T'Pau? That stuff all interests me.

But you know how many NBA games I watched on TV last year, from beginning to end, including the playoffs? Zero. None. I'm not even sure I made it past the hour mark. If I did, I almost certainly flipped around or wrote stupid dick jokes in between. I see highlights. I watch 10-minute stretches of games when I'm at a bar, or when I'm channel surfing. But a whole game? No way. I follow basketball, and yet I watch almost no basketball at all.

Why the fuck would I do that?

Let me borrow from the Simmons playbook and use my own personal life experience to make a wild generalization about the behavior of ALL other people. I think what's going on is that we, as people, are consuming sports in a completely different fashion now. And I'm not talking about getting all your sports info from SportsCenter. No, this goes beyond that. The NBA had middling ratings last year for the Spurs-Cavs Finals, yet the league continues to thrive financially. Why? Because more and more people are following sports now without bothering to actually watch them.

I didn't watch much of the NBA playoffs last year. But I damn sure kept track of what was going on. Remember when the Suns and Spurs had that mild fracas in the playoffs and all those guys got suspended? Man, I knew all about that shit. What a fucking outrage! They barely graced the court, Stern, you fucking jackass! But did I see that shit happen in real time? Good Lord, no. That shit was on at like, 4 a.m. I need my beauty rest. It helps resist aging.

I'd wager only a couple million people watched that game on TV. But scores more were happy to talk about it the next day. And that's because, thanks to blogs, and YouTube, and ESPN, and all that shit, we can not only get the gist of what happened out there when Stoudamire and Diaw (it was Diaw, right? I'm too lazy to look that shit up) got suspended, we can get it fucking Rashomon-style, covered from about 4,000 different angles. You can get a version on blogs, a version from the wire report, a version from the streaming video, myriad versions from message boards and comments threads, and what have you. You don't need to see it happen live to be well informed, to get in the slipstream of conversation.

In fact, if you ONLY watched the game in the arena, without benefit of replay, and digested none of the media built upon it, you probably wouldn't be as well-versed about it as someone who didn't see it at all.

Sports are a common language for us. They're a way for us to bond. Something happens in the world of sports, and we talk about with buddies, or we make jokes about it in the comments here. A long time ago, it was considered a rite of passage for a dad to take his kid to a ballgame for quality time together. In all those instances, sports are a vehicle, a means to an end. We NEED the conversation. We NEED to interact with one another over something we share in common.

We NEED all that. What we sometimes don't actually NEED anymore is to watch the game itself. We need the game to take place somewhere out in the ether, so that something happens to spur our discourse. But sometimes, that's ALL we require. Obviously, watching replays or reading accounts of a sporting event after the fact are never anywhere near as exciting as seeing it all play out as it happens. But is the latter a prerequisite for being a legitimate, impassioned sports fan? I'm not sure it is.

Is that weird? Well, it's not as weird as you might think. Think about other fields of conversation, such as politics. This, as you know, is primary season. We've all had our political flame wars and dinner table conversations about who we like and who we think is a complete piece of shit (COUGHhillaryCOUGH). Well, have you ever watched a political debate from beginning to end? Or listened your favorite candidate's stump speech all the way through? I haven't. Those things are boring as shit, with only a few exciting moments to be had over the course of hours, if that.

Not unlike watching a baseball game.

But that doesn't mean politics or baseball aren't of any interest to you or me at all. On the contrary. I personally find the whole steroid scandal juicy as shit (They got Clemens? AWWWW YEAH!!!!!). I could talk with friends for hours on end about what a complete fucktaster Barry Bonds is. Number of times I saw him play in a game last year? Zip. The game provides a foundation for our conversations, but it isn't always necessary to it. I used to watch baseball a lot. I don't watch much of it anymore. But am I still interested? Yup. Am I still a fan? Yeah, I guess I am. Not a very good one, but there you have it. What's the opposite of a purist? That's me. I'm an impurist.

I used to think that this shift in my consumption of sports was bad for me. That somehow, this made me a member of the ADD generation who is easily distracted by OH MY GOD THAT DOG HAS A PUFFY TAIL! I used to think it was kind of embarrassing. But now, I actually think it's good. I think it helps make me a more well-rounded individual. Ever talk to a guy who was a complete baseball freak and watched every game and kept track of VORP's and shit like that? Let me tell you something: That conversation dies after about three minutes. It's in-depth baseball or nothing. I know. I've had drinks with Leitch.

But a good conversation is one that flows like music, with one subject floating seamlessly into the next without tripping over itself. And, if you're someone who is well-versed in sports without having dedicated all your time to watching them, you're probably better at having just such a conversation.

I know I am. Dinner party guests find me worldly and large-penised.

Now, am I as well-prepared to have an argument with Henry Abbott about the greatest power forwards of all time than I am having an argument with a friend about the Vikings' problems at quarterback? Uh, no. That dude watches a whole shitload of basketball. I watch a whole shitload of football. We aren't gonna have any kind of scholarly discussion. But we can still shoot the breeze and bond over it, which is why we're all naturally attracted to sports to begin with. It's not about the games. It's about us. It's always about us. We're all selfish dicks like that.

So I, for one, salute this new kind of casual yet extremely well-informed sports fan. Because I am one of them. Come March, I'll fill out a NCAA tourney bracket and then skip the title game. Then I'll make lots of rape jokes about Kobe while he plays late games I have no chance of watching. Come summer, I'll even take in a little baseball... posts from Fire Joe Morgan. And I'll watch some movies, read half a book, consume lots of celebrity gossip (Amy Winehouse back in rehab?!!!! OMG!111!!!1! But she's so brassy!), and do lots of other things that give me basic, topline information about what's going on in sports and the world at large, so that I can be a productive, interesting citizen of the universe.

It's nothing to be ashamed of. I love sports. Just not always enough to watch them.

That said, time to shut down the Jamboroo.

Playoff Game Picks and Predictions

All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

No Throwgasms

The Pro Bowl. Every year, I stumble on the Pro Bowl and say to myself, "Well it IS football." So I start watching. And then, 30 seconds later, I change the channel. Watching the Pro Bowl is about as interesting as watching a goddamn celebrity golf Pro-Am. Oh, look! It's Ray Romano AND Steve Stricker! Together! Wheeeee!!!

I also resent the fact that all the players and media members get to spend the week in Hawaii while I freeze my ass off back home. Look at Berman, wearing a lei. He looks so damn relaxed. Fat fucker. I don't care how great of a fucking week you had. If players aren't suffering, I ain't interested.

Last Week: 0-1 (1-0 vs. the spread)
Overall: 6-5 (7-4 vs. the spread)

Song To Get You Through The Offseason

"Won't Be Long" by The Hives. I like me some Swedish men who dress in matching suits and look like porn stars. This song makes me want to guzzle champagne and pinch a stripper's ass.

Embarassing Cassingle I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up

I'm all outta cassingles. The only other cassingle I remember owning was "You Could Be Mine," which featured "Civil War" as a B-side. And that song kicks much ass. I bought it because it came out in advance of the "Use Your Illusion" release.

Maybe I'll do embarrassing albums next season, because I have a shitload of those sitting in my Caselogic. I even have a Stereolab album I've never listened to. Why did I buy that? I think I might be French. And gay. And a Communist.

Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death

No players to single out this week. Everything worked out juuuuust right.

Actual Wild Card Of The Week

This week's actual wild card is ELI MANNING!

Oh, yeah. DIDN'T EXPECT OL' ELI TO STEP UP, DID YA?! My goodness, he grew up right before our very eyes on Sunday! And grew pubes and everything! I heard he even had a nocturnal emission!

/marks Eli's new height on the inside of the pantry door

You're 6'4" now, Eli?! WOW!

Snack Of The Offseason

Funyuns! The snack you only THINK are made of onions! According to Wikipedia:

They were named "Funyuns" by University of North Texas professor and copywriter Jim Albright after it was discovered that the first choice of name for the product, "OnYums", had already been taken.

The last laugh is on YOU, OnYum man! Nobody ate YOUR onion flavored processed corn product! Suck Frito Lay's cheese balls!

Cheap Beer Of The Offseason

Boy, I need something for the next few months that'll get me good and DRUNK! I know...

Little crooked I up in this bitch! I like to think of St. Ides as an undiscovered Caribbean island with a crime rate that somehow manages to dwarf that of Jamaica, St. Thomas and the Bahamas COMBINED. What's a figure higher than 100 percent?

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Everyone

Crumb. You start out Crumb thinking Robert Crumb is pretty fucked in the head. And then you meet his brother, who sits on a bed of nails and spends his day passing a very long piece of fabric through his entire digestive tract. IT'S COMING OUT OF HIS MOUTH AND ANUS SIMULTANEOUSLY. He committed suicide after the film was shot. Man, do I feel better about myself.

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote

"We're going up to the bluffs to paint SPRINGFIELD SUCKS in huge letters. That way, whenever they look into Shelbyville, they will realize that they suck."

Offseason Masturbation Kit
• For the guys: Brit supermodel Kelly Brook. That suit just won't zip!
• For the gals: You know, I spent a lot of time this year Googling shit like "shirtless men" and what not for you ladies. And what do I get in return? "Oh, he's not hot! Ewwww!!!" Well ladies, tough shit. All I have to go on here is my repressed homosexuality. If you find Justin Timberlake unacceptable, I have no clue what the fuck it is I'm supposed to look for in a man. Kiss my ass.

Blatantly False, ProFootballTalk-Style, Fred Edelstein-esque Rumor Of The Week
WE HEAR... Patriot fans still whining like the little, insufferable bitches they are.

Your Motivational Quote For The Offseason
"Your son looks like a fag to me. You'd better get married again, 'cause he'll have somebody's cock in his mouth before you know it."
-Reggie Dunlop

NOTE: The Jamboroo will return one week in April for the Draft. And I'll be back here in two weeks with a newer, way fucking shorter column. Special thanks to Dan V for his outstanding Photoshop work all season long. You made the Jamboroo sing, Danny Boy!

Enjoy the offseason, everyone.

Therefore, Football Guys, the official chatroom of the NFL. It will run here on Deadspin weekly, every Tuesday, until the end of the NFL season. So do enjoy, after the jump.

This is what Crystal Meth will do to you. So be careful, kids.

It wasn't a kicker-centric Super Bowl, the way I'd hoped it would be, the way I hope every Super Bowl will be. (My favorites: V, XXV, XXXVI and XXXVIII.) But I've crafted a kicker-related theory that I consider as solid as Tom Dempsey's right shoe.

The downfall of the Patriots was about performance, of course, the way all sporting contests are—in this case that of the Giants' defensive line and of young Elijah, who will ascend to heaven in a chariot of fire adorned with a lowercase ny and driven by four guys from Yonkers. But for all of New England's season-long protestations of humility and respect, it was hubris that did them in—Bill Belichick's hubris. It showed up at the game's end, when he couldn't muster the class or grace to stay on the field while Eli took a knee.

But, more critical to the final score, it showed up when he refused to kick.

The writers, dead-tree and not, mentioned it, as they should have. But they didn't deconstruct its significance. With 6:49 left in the third quarter, Belichick kept Brady on the field on fourth and 13 from the Giants' 31 instead of having placekicker Stephen Gostkowski try a 49-yard field goal. Here's what should have been running through Captain Sominex's head: We're ahead 7-3. There are less than 22 minutes to play in a Super Bowl in which points have been scarce. If that little shit can kick the ball between the uprights, we're ahead 10-3. Leading by four means that the Jets or Giants or whomever the hell we're playing need to score once to take the lead. Leading by seven means they need to score twice. Scoring twice is harder than scoring once.

Yes, New England was better than any team this season at converting on fourth down. The league average was just under 50 percent; the Patriots did it 15 of 21 times, or 71 percent. Give the curmudgeon credit: Belichick understands that, as Gregg Easterbrook has worn out keyboards explaining, NFL teams should go for it on fourth down more than they do. But that means fourth and 4 from their own 40 or even fourth and 7 from the opposing 30—and only when a field goal wouldn't be decisive. Fourth and 13? I asked Aaron Schatz of Football Outsiders for some stats. They'd be meaningless, he replied. Teams only go for it on fourth and 10 or more when losing near the end of a game. The Patriots were winning in the third quarter.

In a postgame news conference that made The Sorrow and the Pity look like American Pie, here was Belichick's typically dismissive response when some ignoramus dared posit that he could have tried a field goal: "Yeah, but it was a 50-yard field goal." So bleeping what? Before a game, a coach asks his kicker for his outer range for the day. I'm willing to bet my Copas that, under a dome, in the Arizona altitude, in the Super Bowl, Stephen Gostkowski didn't reply, "Forty-eight—and not an inch more, coach."

True, the kid has kicked just one field goal of 50-plus yards in his two years in the NFL, and it was last season. It's also true that Gostkowski's longest FG this year was from 45. But that doesn't mean he can't kick a football 49 yards. Every NFL kicker can. The Giants' weaker-legged Lawrence Tynes's 47-yard game-winner in polar Green Bay was probably good from 57.

Rather, Gostkowski's lack of 50-plus stats reflects two things: One, the Patriots didn't attempt many field goals this season (24) because they scored a lot of touchdowns (75) instead. Two, he probably wound up kicking shorter field goals because Belichick's aggressiveness on fourth down moved the ball closer.

Did Gostkowski injure himself shanking that second-quarter kickoff out of bounds? I have no idea, but I doubt it; he later booted one to the Giants' 3-yard line. Anyway, if the kicker or a lack of confidence in the kicker really was the problem, Belichick could have punted, making the Giants—who had managed a single field goal to that point—travel anywhere from 11 to 30 yards farther in order to score.

No, I think Belichick arrogantly assumed that the highest-scoring offense in NFL history would revert to form against a defense it had abused five weeks earlier. In that, he refused to cop to what 100 million people were witnessing: his team getting beat. Instead of taking the three points—or the 60 or so percent likelihood that Gostkowski would deliver the three points—Belichick let his quarterback airmail one into the end zone. The Giants didn't score on the subsequent drive. But they did wind up winning by three.

Look, I'm a kicker. I love kickers. For Pete Gogolak's
sake, I did a modern Plimpton as a kicker and I will talk about kicking whenever possible. But Belichick's no-kick wasn't just an insult to my kind. It's was a mind-bogglingly ill-considered football decision. For it alone, the Patriots deserved to lose. Mess with the kicker, mess with history.

Stefan Fatsis is the author of Word Freak and a longtime sports reporter for the Wall Street Journal and sports commentator on NPR's "All Things Considered." His new book, A Few Seconds of Panic: A 5-foot-8, 170-Pound, 43-year-old Sportswriter Plays in the NFL, about his summer as a training-camp kicker for the Denver Broncos, comes out in July.

In other news, I suspected that Eyepatch was just being bitter when they ripped Randy Moss to tiny bits of confetti following the Super Bowl, but you know, maybe they have a point. On Monday Moss tossed Bill Belichick directly under the large, bus-like vehicle. Said Moss on Sunday:

"The Giants just had a better game plan. They played heads-up football. They came ready to play for four quarters, 60 minutes."

Also, seemingly the entire world is second-guessing him for that fourth-and-13 call. How can the Patriots get people's minds off of all of this? Paying off the Lost writers to reveal about eight secrets on Thursday, that might do it.

The QB Mannings, A Family Affair [Sign On San Diego]
Cause To Kick Themselves? [Boston Globe]
Brady, Moss To Miss Pro Bowl [SF Gate]
Super Bowl Blogdome [Deadspin]

— Kissing Suzy Kolber

— Mediocre Photoshop Incorporated

— Sorriest Corner

— Steveurkel

— Cowboysfantexas

— Italie

— Manta537

— Cider

— JB-Giants

As SBB mentions, Chris Mottram of The Sporting Blog, Mark Mosely of ESPN's Hashmarks, Michael David Smith of Fanhouse, MJD over at Yahoo and Dan Steinberg of DC Sports Bog changed the way the game was covered in the last week. In the biggest media event on the sports calendar, nearly every paper in the country was outdated the second it hit newstands. It was impressive to watch; even with nothing — AT ALL — going on, these guys had everybody covered in every direction. It was a fun thing for us to witness while we were writing TSN columns, scribbling Times tracts and, of course, watching the Berman video over and over.

Imagine if they could focus all those energies into something, you know, interesting. Would be something to watch.

The offense—the strength of this Patriots team—got debacled."—Emmitt Smith, ESPN, February 3rd, 2008, 11:33 p.m. EST

Thank you, Emmitt Smith. With every new word you invented this season—whether it be "debacled" or "escapegoat"—came yet another reason to cherish following the NFL on a daily basis.

And last night's game—the ups and downs, the fantastic fourth quarter, the overall experience—well, that's truly what makes it all worth it in the end. As a Giants fan, it's easy to make it about "me," "us" and "we" today. But that's foolish. Last night's game was for everyone who's ever blown off a Sunday brunch with the girlfriend to lay in bed and watch the pre-game studio shows; everyone who's ever started doing fantasy draft research in mid-June; everyone who's ever bought a player's jersey and worn it out to a nice restaurant. Last night's game was what it's all about.

How many hours of your life would you say you devoted to the NFL this season? How many Monday mornings did you spend reading Peter King's text message conversations with a concussed Trent Green? How many consecutive NFL Films Super Bowl half-hour videos did you watch Saturday night on ESPN2? How many times did you envision an enraged Philip Rivers busting through a concrete wall head-first?
Following last night's thrill-ride, could you ever ask for even a second of that time back?

Of course, it's a little sweeter for the Giants fans out there today.

Though the mainstream media seems to be playing up the whole "They shocked the world" and "Nobody believed in them" card today, it's not really the case. In fact, a fair share of "experts" had New York winning Sunday night's game, and the money in Vegas was actually 3-1 in favor of Big Blue. On the whole, the Giants and their fan base were actually pretty confident they'd give the Patriots a run. As The Onion accurately proclaimed last week, "Giants: 'We Almost Beat the Patriots Once, We Can Almost Beat Them Again.'" Hey, at the very least, it'd be competitive.

That said, in the two weeks leading up to the Super Bowl, the Giants players did just about everything they could to drive a fan base nuts. Here's the short list:

• Just days after nearly costing the team their season, their quirky, somewhat aloof kicker goes on Letterman. Ugh.

• Their first round draft pick throws up all over the plane on the flight down to Arizona, causing an emergency landing midway through the trip. Yep.

• They arrive in Arizona dressed in all black, yet, only what appears to be half the team gets the memo. Most the young guys are dressed in street clothes or alternative-colored suits. Great.

• Their star receiver predicts not only a win, but offers a score. Terrific.

• A backup linebacker gets arrested for a D.U.I. just two days before the Super Bowl. Fabulous.

Somehow, some way, though, they overcame all this and the undefeated Patriots to become Super Bowl champions. David Tyree caught four balls all season; he had three catches and a touchdown last night. The Patriots had not been held below 20 points all season; they scored just 14 last night. Tom Brady wasn't hit all year; he was knocked down 23 times last night.

In the end, the images for the Sports Illustrated Commemorative beer mug commercial will likely be some slow-mo montage of Eli hitting Burress for the game-winning score, Tyree's miraculous catch and Madison Hedgecock (Wall Street banker or porn star—discuss!) dousing Tom Coughlin with a tub of Gatorade.

But there are other still-frames from Super Bowl XLII worth holding on to, as well. There's rookie Steve Smith getting the extra yards necessary and scampering out of bounds on a 3rd and 11 with less than a minute to go. There's older brother Peyton pumping his fist in the luxury box after every big play down the stretch. There's Wellington Mara's wife, Ann, kissing 18-year veteran Jeff Feagles on the cheek while passing him the Lombardi Trophy.

And there's Belichick, running off the field before the final whistle's even blown, having just been absolutely out-coached for sixty minutes. Where were the halftime adjustments? Where was the creativity on offense? 4th and 13? Defeated and in flux, he quickly shakes Tom Coughlin's hand, ignores the referee instructing him to return to the sideline, and shuffles to the locker room.

There's only one word to describe the man at that moment.

And that word is "debacled."

Anyway, we received this email from a diehard Patriots fan 30 minutes after the game last night:

I've drained eleven Miller Lites over the course of this debacle, and for some reason, I felt the need to email the editor of Deadspin. I have no idea how to attack this loss. I'm thrown off, definitely, and sad, but it has been a half hour, so my sadness has tapered off a little. What a beat. WHAT. A. BEAT. The worst part is, this team, this awesome team, will be forever remembered as chokers, rather than the team they are: a brilliant team that came within a minute of perfection. Though the fan base (though it is hard for me to swallow the fact that bandwagoners are considered the fan base, but what can I do) deserved the loss, it still... well, multiply the word "sting" by 50. That's the word I'm looking for. Well, I'll take my licks tomorrow, man, no matter how shitty it will end up being. Oddly, since I grew up rooting for these teams, I became accustomed to looks of pity after a loss like this. That's the thing Bill never mentions: since Boston(and New England) sucked for so long, we never developed a thick skin for criticism. We got used to everyone rooting for us, and when we inevitably lost, they shook their heads and said, "Some day, guys." That's why we are the way we are. We can't get used to being envied and hated, so we act like douches and lash back.

Again, sorry, pal. We don't deserve a lick of your sympathy. But, I wanted you to know we took the hit hard tonight... well, at least the diehards did.

Enjoy it while you can. Baseball season's coming soon.

Then, 10 minutes later:

What kills me more than this loss is the fact that half the people who are enjoying this (well deserved) win by the Giants are doing so because they hate the Pats fans, not the Pats. And that's because a lot of people who root for the team don't handle what I was talking about well. We were good at this once, man, I swear. We were small, and were tough, and we were diehards. Things just... grow, and there's nothing you can do. This team, as chippy as they are, were within three minutes of perfection. Three minutes. JEZUS, I can't even get that through my head.

Then, this morning:

The ironic side note to the fact that sports is the perfect form of escapism is that, when you want nothing to do with sports, there is no way you can escape them. I'd almost prefer to be surrounded by drunken diehard Giants fans right now than have to listen to everyone in my office, one by one, come to my desk and offer half-hearted condolences and recycle some reason for the loss they heard on the radio on the way in to work, when all they really want to know is if they hit a square last night.

We know that last one very well; the day after Illinois lost to North Carolina in the NCAA Championship Game, we left our old office at noon. We couldn't take a full day of that.

Like a lot of people, we respected Barber's decision to retire, and even bought Rick Reilly's famous "he's just trying to save himself the wear-and-tear of life in the NFL" column defending him. And then Tiki just would not stop talking, claiming he'd still be playing if Tom Coughlin weren't coaching and hammering Michael Strahan for holding out for more money. The whole implication: Sorry, Giants, you could have still had this, had you appreciated this.

So the Giants respond by going out and winning the freaking Super Bowl without him. If only he could have been in the broadcast booth. It's a good thing his job pretty much just mostly involves talking to bored homemakers anymore. No one else will be able to look at him without laughing.

My Super Bowl MVP Tiki Barber [Chicago Bull]

A Kindly Plea For Tiki Barber To Shut The Hell Up [Deadspin]

• Belichick Inexplicably Opts For Red, Pats Lose, Boy Chews Shirt. "Seriously Bill, no gray hoodie with the sleeves cut off? Was this really the night to change things up?" [The Sports Hernia]

It seems that Adam Sandler has better luck with this garment ...

• With Kige On Our Side, Good Things Will Happen. Kige Ramsey's Super Bowl prediction. The dramatic pause was genius. [Bottomless Chips]

• A Requiem For The Patriots. "Maybe I'm being lame by turning the focus away from the Giants hard-earned victory - but I'm just glad I can still be proud to be a New England Patriots fan, instead of feeling like a disenchanted member of a nation that takes the fun out of the game. So long live the 2007 Patriots - just not for too long please. I don't know if I've ever looked forward to baseball season this much. But don't fret Tom Brady, I still want to have your child." [The Sports Scribbler]

• Giants 17, Patriots 14. "If you're going to compare this in football terms, you could say the New England Patriots suddenly bore a resemblance to the New Zealand All Blacks in last September's Rugby World Cup. In my opinion, though, the closest comparison has to be the 1991 UNLV Runnin' Rebels basketball squad, which went 34-0 on its way to the Final Four, then lost to Duke in the semifinals. That team that was supposed to be absolutely unstoppable, but guess what? They got stopped. There were allegations of cheating among both teams, too. The only way it could be any closer is if photos emerge of the Pats' offensive line in a hot tub with a bookie." [Dave's Football Blog]

• Ultimate Humble Pie. "Undefeated season denied. Congratulations to the New York Giants. The Giants were unbelievably lucky on several plays, especially on that last drive — Asante Samuel muffing what could have been a game-ending interception, David Tyree somehow holding on to that deep pass to the Patriots 24 with just over a minute left. But that's football. Those are the bounces. Your New England Patriots have nothing of which to be ashamed. They came within 3 points of something most of us could hardly comprehend." [Pats Pulpit]

• Perfection Stopped Cold. "Right now I am stunned, as I am sure is all of New England. But I said this game made me uneasy and I was uncomfortable the entire game and I wasn't anywhere near the field. This feeling reminds me of watching Aaron Boone hit the HR off of Tim Wakefield." [Sox And Dawgs]

• Randy Moss: Super Bowl Loser. "Randy Moss, for all his worthlessness today, still had the class to make that swimming move after catching the TD that put the Patriots up late in the 4th. Up to that point he did nothing. In the biggest game of his life, he did nothing to help carry the load, and for that I can only bask in the pleasure of the fact that Randy Moss will get no ring this year. Hopefully ever. His touchdown came after the defender that was covering him fell down. Yet, the guy acts as if the center of the football universe should take note that he's some sort of football god. No Randy, you're the epitome of selfish, and karma got the better of you today." [The Eye Patch]

• Confused Thoughts In The Aftermath. "Whether they said the Tom Brady ankle controversy was a non-issue or not, could it have been that it limited his ability to throw the deep ball. It's been quite some time since we've seen Brady pass so erratically, especially with the deep ball. I don't care what the statistics say, Brady didn't look like himself." [Eye On Foxborough]

• Eli's Escape: Legendary Play In Super Bowl History. "Initially my thoughts were, "haha, Eli got sacked, it's over." Then when that summabitch wouldn't go down, I changed quickly and said "hot damn, he's not going to let his team lose." And that's what happened. With one play Eli willed his team to victory. And let's not overlook what made this play so spectacular — the fact that it was completed on the other end with an amazing catch by David Tyree. That's the type of play where Eli can easily go down or have the pass batted down. Instead it wasn't, and that's when you knew grace was with the Giants. Let's take another look at it." (In case it's taken down, try this) [Larry Brown Sports]

(Ed. Note: Oh, and here's our Times column and our TSN column.)

• Super Bowl Post-Game: Reliving The Giant Victory. "The biggest key to our success tonight was the Giants ability to generate pressure with their front four. They were in Brady's face all game, and even when they didn't create pressure, they threw off the timing of the Patriot offense. The only time that offense looked right was their touchdown drive in the fourth quarter. The Giants pass rush made Tom Brady look like an average quarterback tonight, plain and simple." [Giants 101]

• Welcome To Perfectville. Population: 1. The really big winners on Sunday? Reebok, which filmed this commercial even though they had to strongly suspect that it would never air. [Reebok]

• Kudos And Wet Willies: Super Bowl XLII Edition. "The Patriots: Oh my God! I am still not sure I believe what I just saw. ... The Patriots couldn't finish off the only thing that really mattered in their entire season, winning the Super Bowl. They were outplayed most of the game, had no answers for the Giants' pass rush and couldn't stop Eli Manning when it mattered most." [Big Blue View]

• And Baby, You Better You Believe!. "Anyway, holy fucking shit. I can't begin to explain the bizarre combination of euphoria and disbelief I have coursing through my veins right now. It can't be described. It really can't. There is no word in the English language that can describe the feeling that comes with winning a Super Bowl against a team that was 18-0 and considered the best team to ever grace a football field. There's just no way to describe it. I have been drinking since 4 p.m. I am on a high of vodka and victory that no one has ever tasted before." [Why Don't We Get Drunk And Blog]

• Down Go The Patriots! "That's right, Eli Manning is a Super Bowl champion. And as a Dolphins fan, I congratulate Eli and his teammates the way that I would if Miami had won the Super Bowl. They beat our hated division rivals, and kept the '72 Dolphins' perfect record intact. Sure, New England might have gone 18-0, but what do they have to show for it? An AFC East title? And AFC Championship? Wow. Undefeated and that's what you're rewarded with? Sorry motherfuckers, but you got rolled in the biggest game of the season and that's what you'll be remembered for." [The Sports Oasis]

• They Might Be Giants. The following brave bloggers all picked New York to win: The Sports Lounge ... Afraid Of Ed Hochuli ... Monday Morning Punter (KSK) ... Stupid Sideline Reporters. [The Hot Route] (Ed. Note: Oh, and Daulerio.)

As we mentioned in our Times column, we were almost surprised to realize that the Eli Manning after the game was still the same dopey, earnest, dork character he was before the game. We expected him to take off his helmet and suddenly talk like Barry White. That's how amazing his fourth quarter was. Truthfully now: You've never seen Peyton be that gutsy, have you? Where did that come from?

We suspect most of you are like us, and feel as if the ground has shifted beneath your feet: Eli Manning — the guy who would rather be playing squash — turned out to be a true champion. We are flabbergasted, and we will never doubt him, or that family, again. At this point, we're ready to ask businessman Cooper Manning to pull us out of this recession.