Bill Simmons, Your Tears Are So Delicious

You know what I'm referring to. Maybe if he hadn't spent the last five months writing intolerable Patriots column after intolerable Patriots column, he wouldn't have forced me into eff-you Cobra Kai mode. Alas- this is the end result of that sequence of events. And I'm going to enjoy it.

Unfortunately, the article is disappointingly unterrible. He's actually pretty gracious towards the Giants, and doesn't make too many excuses for the Patriots. He points out that the Pats were unlikable (a nice reversal from that column earlier in the year which basically whined "Why can't anyone be happy for us?") and labels their fans as "arrogant." He even admits at the end that he will be forever haunted by Giants fans' chants of "Eighteen and one" from after the game. That's pretty un-douchey for Bill. Still. I came here to empty my bowels on this column, dammit, and I'm not leaving until that happens.

I won't cover anything from the first half or so of the article, but frankly it's ridiculous that he starts out by thoroughly comparing this game to Super Bowl XXXVI. Can we please get an article about someone beating the current Patriots without comparing said victor to a previous championship winning Patriots team? The comparison is really more about Bill's experience than the teams themselves, I guess, but it's still irrelevant and tacky.

It's a dirty little secret, but Super Bowl crowds stink for the same reason that All-Star crowds stink -- more than half of the tickets get chewed up by sports executives, corporate sponsors, people working for the league or the advertising companies that support the league, celebrities and pseudo-celebrities, rich people and neutral fans who just want to be there because it's something to do.

That's not a secret. Everyone who likes the NFL knows that. Everyone. Casual fans in Europe. Ancient guys in nursing homes who were in their 50s when Super Bowl I happened. Five year olds who don't understand most of the rules. Annoying sorority girls who pretend to be lifelong fans of whatever team their current boyfriend likes. Everyone.

Arizona wasn't anything like that. Super Bowl XLII broke the record for "most fans of one team or the other" as well as "most fans wearing jerseys" and "most dead-even split of fans representing both franchises."

The "imaginary broken record" joke is fine in moderation. It doesn't need to be in every column. This particular instance of it should be replaced with either a Karate Kid reference or a story about his daughter.

Because of the unique makeup of the crowd, I became convinced we were headed for something special, even texting a few friends to predict a close and special game.

Ok, Nostradamus. I bet you did. What was the prediction you offered in your column from last Friday?

The Big Pick: Patriots 42, Giants 17.

That's what I thought. Asshole. Bill, three days before the 2007 Fiesta Bowl: "What a joke! Why is Boise State even here?" Bill, seconds before kickoff: "I've got a feeling this one is going to come down to the wire. There's just something in the air tonight. Smells like my own flatulence, which is pungent but subtle at the same time."

Soaking in the atmosphere, seeing the sea of jerseys, hearing the sounds that genuine fans make, suddenly a blowout seemed impossible. This was too good. This was what sports was all about, right?

Cliche, cliche, cliche, contradictory prediction that he undoubtedly did not actually make at the time. Cliche. Epic cliche borrowed from Rick Reilly.

With that said, I never thought the Patriots would lose. I thought they'd be tested, I thought the game would be great ... but lose??? You could point out 10 different instances when the Pats blew a chance to make a monster play or put the game away, and you could point out all the different times the Giants caught a break or had a ball bounce their way,

I'd love to hear about all those times. The only obvious one(s) I can think of is the fact that the Giants twice put the ball on the ground and managed to recover it both times. But how about instead, we point out that arguably the biggest break/lucky play of the game was the Giants' red zone interception Steve Smith perfectly tipped into Ellis Hobb's waiting arms? It cost the Giants a first and goal at the New England 8 (if caught) or a chip shot field goal attempt (if dropped in any other fashion). Manning could throw that exact pass to Smith 100 times, and the interception would bounce directly into Hobb's chest on one of them. Maybe.

but really, everything you need to know about Super Bowl XLII happened on the Miracle Play To Be Named Later -- you know, the third down on the do-or-die drive when Eli Manning ripped himself away from the entire Patriots defensive line (THEY HAD HIS JERSEY!!!!!!) and threw a pass that hung in the air forever like one of those sports movie passes, and even though David Tyree and Rodney Harrison had an equal chance of getting it, Tyree jumped a little bit higher, hauled in the football, trapped it against his helmet and somehow held on while Harrison was doing everything but performing a figure-four leg lock on him.

I've got bad news. That's not "catching a break" or "having a ball bounce your way." Excuse the cliche- that's called making plays. Manning was under pressure. He got away from it. He threw a pass that was right where his receiver could go and get it. Tyree was covered, be he went up and got the ball anyways. Deal with it.

I will forever remember eight things about Super Bowl XLII:

1. Before the pregame introductions, the Patriots were jogging off the field and the Jumbotron caught Brady briefly break stride to shake hands with Pat O'Brien. This bothered me for some reason -- somewhere along the line, the team and the quarterback almost became too famous, as symbolized by that handshake and the fact Brady would have run right by O'Brien six years ago because he would have wanted to flip out in the tunnel and inexplicably head-butt Bledsoe over and over again. Look, I'm not blaming Brady for the handshake. This was the season when his fame transcended sports and morphed into something else, and part of that "something else" involves the occasional random pregame handshake with the likes of Pat O'Brien. You have to do things like this when you're famous, even if you don't really want to do them. At the same time, I thought this was a terrible omen and a defining moment of the season.

Z, O, M, G. Pure hilarity. Really? THAT was your team's defining moment? Not anything else that, you know, happened on the field and made them lose? I guarantee you Eli Manning shook a few hands before the game. Maybe even Pat O'Brien's. Here's a quiz for all you readers out there. Why did Tom Brady have a mediocre game on Sunday?

a) because he was too distracted by Pat O'Brien's sexy man hands to focus properly during warmups
b) because the Giants' D-line was constantly dump trucking him into the turf
c) quizzes with rhetorical questions and sarcastic answer choices are fucking stupid

Understood. We'll move along then.

2. Speaking of Brady, if the Patriots had finished 19-0, I planned to start my column with a scene from the Patriots' postgame party. Through some mutual friends, I had arranged to hang out with Brady's crew for what promised to be a laid-back celebration in somebody's hotel room, probably no more than 15-20 people since Brady's circle is surprisingly and refreshingly small.

If this is true, oh my goodness gracious, how awkward would this have been for everyone except Bill? ("Who is that guy? Why does he keep showing me pictures of his family and asking if he can bring 'Hench' and 'J-Bug' up here?") If this is not true, Bill reminds me of this kid who grew up on my block and claimed to have a hoverboard and a velociraptor in his basement that he couldn't show anyone. Some people are just so insecure about their lives that they have to make ridiculous shit up.

Because it was a rare chance to catch Brady in an unguarded moment -- and an important moment at that -- I spent most of Friday and Saturday thinking about that first paragraph and all the different ways it could start. I kept seeing Brady sitting in a chair with his right ankle encased in ice, quietly sipping a bottle of champagne with a satisfied smile on his face, and Gisele would be there, and everyone would be recapping 19-0 and remembering the incredible season. I liked the thought of a famous person celebrating a historic night in such a totally normal and relatable way.

Imaginary Tom Brady sure is a chilled out guy, isn't he? But had the Patriots won, I bet real life Tom Brady would have kicked everyone out of the room so he could pulverize Gisele after doing lines of blow off her thighs.

And that's what it will remain. A thought and only a thought. It never happened.

Now the healing can begin.

3. First entry in my notebook right after the game ended: "Eli Manning just gave me the Eli Manning Face." And he did.

Reader Ben makes a great point- I think we can now safely say that the Tom Brady face exists. I think it looks something like this. (Thanks to the anonymous commenter from my post on Sunday night.)

4. For the rest of eternity, I will never understand why the Patriots -- a team that broke all kinds of offensive records by attacking teams with an aggressive, run-and-shoot offense that thrived on audibles, checks and the intelligence of the quarterback and his receivers -- became passive in the single biggest game of the season.

Obviously, their genius head coach and his staff of undergeniuses thought that was all they needed to do in order to win. There were no other variables at play. The number of people or decisions eligible for blame are pretty limited.

It's one thing to change styles because it's 20 degrees and windy outside and you're worried about throwing the ball. But indoors? Only on the last drive did the Patriots look like the Patriots. I will never understand what took so long. Ever. I will never understand it.

You coach screwed up his game plan. And also stole some guy's wife, which is even worse.

I wasn't even that depressed after the game, just confused. What happened to the remarkable offensive juggernaut from the first three months of the season?

That juggernaut relied on Brady having ample time in the pocket to make reads and let guys get open.

Where did their arrogance go? What happened to their swagger?

Justin Tuck, Michael Strahan, Osi Umenyiora, and the rest of the Giants defense took that swagger away from them and subsequently used it to beat Brady's face in.

Did the never-ending attention and nonstop pressure eventually get to them?

Not the kind of nonstop pressure you're referring to, but yes. Why is it so hard for people like Bill to understand that sometimes things happen because of very tangible factors? This wasn't a magical mystical performance by the Giants, or a magical mystical letdown by the Patriots. They got flat out beaten on the field.

For most of Sunday's game, it seemed the Patriots were playing not to lose. And maybe they were.

Maybe an even more epic cliche than "this is what sports are all about."

I will say this: Even though Friday's column will probably earn the No. 1 spot on the "Columns I Wish Weren't In My Archives" list before everything's said and done, Super Bowl XLII inadvertently proved my point.

Your point, all season long, has been that the Patriots were an unstoppable juggernaut that was playing with otherworldly levels of teamwork and dedication. Your prediction in the very same column you reference here was that the Patriots would win by 25. You also pointed out how hard it is to go 19-0 many different times, but don't act like you saw this coming. You were blindsided. Admit it. It's like the stunning final scene in "Sleeping With the Enemy."

To finish 19-0, you really need a perfect storm of things to fall your way -- not just off the field when you're building the team, but for 19 straight games over the span of five months, and on top of that, the pressure builds every week because of the streak, so it's inevitable you'll wear down in the final two months. I don't think we'll ever see a 19-0 team. If this particular Patriots team couldn't pull it off, nobody's doing it.

I hope the Colts, Jets, or some other team Bill hates does exactly that in 2008. I hope they subsequently trademark "19-0," "We didn't blow it in the Super Bowl like the 2007 Patriots," and "Mercury Morris is a big dickbag."

5. Much like the Patriots, I choked heading into the weekend: Somehow, I forgot to pack my good-luck Wes Welker jersey and headed to Sunday's game without any Pats gear. Originally intent on buying a Pats hat at the game, once I saw all the jerseys in the stands and in my section, I made the executive decision to fine myself $85 dollars (the price of a white No. 81 Moss jersey at one of those merchandise booths). You can currently find that jersey sitting at the bottom of the garbage can in my hotel room. I might take it home and burn it. I haven't decided yet.

Bill's really taking big steps here to erase the quasi-racist reputation of the Boston area. I mean, Moss only caught the go-ahead touchdown. Why couldn't he be more like WEL-KAHHHHHHHH?!?!?! Obviously I'm not saying Bill is racist himself because of this superstitious reaction, but it's little anecdotes like this that magnify the perception that Massholes hate minorities. Go to Kissing Suzy Kolber and look through the archives from the past few weeks. You'll see how that perception manifests itself on teh blogopages.

7. From the "Now It Can Be Told" department: Everyone blamed me for "jinxing" the Patriots two weeks ago after I posted my Dr. Jack Breakdown of the '86 Celtics and the '07 Pats. (And by the way, I think we have a final verdict. And then some.) Well, a significantly more blatant jinx had already happened: For my father's 60th birthday present at the end of November, I bought him a flight from Boston to Arizona and got him a hotel room and a ticket for Super Bowl XLII, although we took great pains to say "Going to the Super Bowl" instead of "Seeing the Pats in the Super Bowl" on every level. One week later? The Baltimore game happened. Yeah. Exactly. I didn't even write about this because I didn't want to get murdered by a deranged Patriots fan.

You also shouldn't have written about it because nobody cares what you buy your dad for his birthday. We've been over and over this. Please stop.

8. Finally, can you guess the last thing we heard as we were walking (OK, hustling) out of the stadium right after the final play? That's right, it was the sound of euphoric Giants fans chanting, "Eighteen and one! Eighteen and one! Eighteen and one!" Yes, it's safe to say the Boston-New York rivalry has been taken to new heights. As a tennis umpire would say, "Advantage, New York."

Eighteen and one! Eighteen and one! Eighteen and one!

I can still hear them. I will always hear them.

Awesome. If the Yankees win the World Series this fall, I just might have to shift my hatred back towards New York, where it was until 2004. Can't we sell both cities to Canada or something? Maybe try to detach everything northeast of Philadelphia from the rest of the country and let it drift out into the Atlantic? (We're keeping upstate New York because Niagra Falls is fucking badass. Have you ever seen that shit? With all the sun and natural landscape, it's a blogger's worst nightmare. But I was in awe nonetheless.) Just kidding, of course. I love all our readers from the NYC/NJ/New England area. You guys are awesome. Just understand you're not special, that's all I ask.

Overall, I'm not going to lie. I somewhat struggled to get through this column and come up with good material for all of Bill's points. What he wrote, compared to how he's been since September-ish, just wasn't that bad. Which proves a point that thousands of bloggers have made about Bill in the past three years or so- he's infinitely more tolerable when his teams suck. I mean, his references and style are still repetitive. I wouldn't call him a "good" writer, per se. But he's definitely much less worthy of hatred or mockery when he gets knocked down a few pegs by a painful loss or two. This leaves me in a bit of a tight spot- would I rather Boston teams keep winning so Bill keeps alley-ooping me shitty material? Or would it be better for Boston teams to suck again, allowing Simmons to turn back into his old inoffensive self?

I think you can guess which option I'd prefer. After all, Gene Wojceichowski doesn't have any visible team allegiances, and he writes like three columns a week.