Super Bowl XXXVI
.I didn’t enjoy it at all. A game where one team doesn’t show up until the fourth quarter isn’t my idea of fun. Sure, it was a close game, and sure, it defied the odds and so on, but the game itself was poor. I wanted the offensive fireworks. I wanted Marshall Faulk to break 200 yards total. I wanted Warner to Bruce for 50+ yard gains. I wanted the beauty and excitement of the ball travelling sixty yards to be plucked from the air with perfect timing and precision—and not on punts. I wanted to see all the rhythm and speed of The Greatest Show on Turf, and not stop-start drives that made me wonder who stole the Rams’ groove. I wanted grace and co-ordination on offense, not a defensive struggle that took the sublime out of the game for 45 minutes.
And I didn’t want the Patriots to win. The Patriots. The name alone, especially in these times, with Fox cramming military pomp down our throats even in introducing the players, is enough to make me gag. It has to be bad when I don’t root for the underdog even a little. And their route to the game… a bad call, fortuitous weather, inches on several plays, a mere foot (if that) over the crossbar, and luck on the coin toss—and that’s just against the Raiders. The Patriots. Dink football, and not even with the style of last year’s Ravens. One offensive touchdown from them in the whole game… that’s not supposed to be enough to win Super Bowls. Especially not against the Rams. The better team didn’t win this game, because the better team wasn’t bothered to show up until about 48:01 into it. And while the military bullshit would have been bad either way, it’s worse because it’s the Patriots, and I’ve already heard one commentator talk about how they came into the matchup “outgunned, outnumbered, unable to compete against the weaponry of their opponents” or some such horseshit. And now we get to hear about them being a Team of Destiny. Pah. Who spiked the Rams’ drinks before the game?