I remember it like it was yesterday: I was a junior in high school watching Super Bowl 46. This was a mere four seasons after my New York Giants ended the Patriots seemingly destined perfect season in football’s greatest upset. As the clock ran down and it became clear that the Giants were going to bet the Patriots-again-for the championship, it went through my mind that my luck at seeing football championships was about to run out for a while.
And I was right. After that a playoff drought began, mixed in with a few under .500 seasons. Then we finally got our shit together with McAdoo and got back to the playoffs, and it seemed the luck was coming back. NOPE! Fast forward a year and we were 3-13.
McAdoo had one good year. He and his pornstache lead big blue to a wild card spot and ended the playoff drought. But then next season everything changed, even his look. McAdoo started slicking his hair back, still paired with the stache, looking like he went from “porn star” to “former porn star who turned his life around and is trying to be a successful porn producer to provide for his family” and the Giants never won a game again.
As if posting the worst record in franchise history and the NFL (let’s be honest the fucking Browns don’t count) I was convinced the Giants couldn’t get worse. “This can’t get any worse, right?” I had to fucking ask because it fucking did.
For the most part, I despise Philadelphia sports. Although it was painful seeing the eagles do good, if they haven’t won a Super Bowl in, well, EVER, this can’t happen now, right?
But of course, it did. Every Cinderella story that could happen happened. Carson Went does amazing. Then he gets hurt and Nick Foles plays like someone mixed u the talent of regular season Peyton Manning and post-season Eli Manning all in one like a super-Manning. Their season became a cheesy Disney Channel movie mixed with an ESPN 30 for 30.
Then came the Super Bowl, but I wasn’t worried. There are very few teams Giants fans hate more than the Eagles and Patriots. Asking a Giants fan to chose between those two teams for a championship is like asking if they want to get punched in the face, or shot in the dick 21 Jump Street style. If the Patriots could come back from a 25 point deficit against Atlanta, a backup quarterback couldn’t beat them, right? Right? Right?!?!?!
Again, I was wrong. I don’t even remember the game ending. By the third quarter, it had become evident that the city of brotherly love was going to dick slap me in the face, I resorted to drinking away the pain. By the time I regained consciousness, the Lombardi trophy was already given to the Eagles and the postgame show This is Us was playing.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a few, very few, extremely few, okay maybe like three, long-suffering Eagles fan friends I’m happy for. The rest, not so much. As if I needed another reason to hate Tom Brady, Super Bowl 52 gave me a perfect excuse.
But I mean it could be worse; atleast it wasn’t the Cowboys.