As the Super Bowl approaches and you learn the back stories of every 5^th string wide receiver and line backers coach through endless hours of coverage it’s time to really focus on what will make your Super Bowl party a game/night/hospital trip to remember.  There are many features that go into having a Super bowl party that makes your friends ask you every year if you’re having a Super Bowl party, but here are the Top 9 to make sure at least one of those friends dies of joy on Sunday (I’m just kidding he’ll just be really unhealthy):

Adequate Seating

If some of your guests are watching the game from the car through a periscope and getting a time delayed call from a delirious Marv Albert than chances are you don’t have adequate seating.  You’ll want to position your seating to maximize viewing potential while minimizing food and beer access obstacles.  Example: Move your TV to the corner of the room where your guests can all focus their attention and you can pace in the background and feed off of the food spread while people are giggling at whatever GoDaddy.com blown annual advertising budget just came on.  You’ll need comfortable chairs, not the folding wooden kind that make you look like there's something wooden folding up your colon, but not the bean bag chairs that make people pass out in 6 minutes or less either.  You don’t think this is that important?  See what happens when you have your buddies spreading out on the floor and then periodically trying to trip you as you walk over them and the pillow stack they made.  A face full of queso is what’ll happen.  Then who’s driving on a guilt-fueled trip to the hospital during the next commercial break because of 3^rd degree burns?  You are.

Gambling

We gamble on cards, dice, sports, and the stock market and while the Super Bowl is a great reason to get all amateur gamblers into the action you’ll want to raise the degenerate betting bar at your party.  You could have the generic Super Bowl pool at your party, complete with enough boxes and points and written names to look like a third grade mural but why bother with something so incredibly…boring.  Instead bet on a few of the following things, as impossible as they might be: the Boss’s play list, number of Budweiser commercials, number of comments about Kurt Warner bagging groceries, number of times “Big Ben” is said, number of William Shatner appearances (you know he’s showing up somewhere), number of times Troy Polamalu is anointed as our Savior, the coin toss, the number of shots of Kurt Warner’s wife, the number of comments made about Anquan Boldin’s “beef” with the Cardinals, and if you get bored, the final score.

Dumbfounded Girl

Now before I get bombarded by women who claim they know more about the NFL than most guys and can explain every rule definition and defensive scheme let me say this: yes there are women out there who are diehard fans and are worthy of getting into football debates over who is the best tight end in the league and who would win in a bar fight match between Ray Lewis and Ed Reed but…come on.  We all know the girl at the Super Bowl party who is constantly asking the rules in your ear and wondering why that one coach with all the gray hair is yelling so much and why in the world he would be wearing such an ugly shirt and why that one guy with the big pads has so much hair and why that one team has such ugly colors and why that one guy hit that other guy so hard if the play didn’t count (you can see where this is going) and why they would stop playing every time one guy falls down and why the cheerleaders don’t get to go on the field and why the offensive linemen look like she brother’s friend’s cousin’s housekeeper’s pet bear.

Sure she’s annoying but chances are she’s probably attractive, or your buddy’s girlfriend/wife, or both (just took a shot at imaginary buddy’s wife), which means she’s already bringing the quality of your Super Bowl party to acceptable standards.  Also no one wants a bunch of well educated I’ve-read-every-Super-Bowl-breakdown-article-on-ESPN.com-and-am-now-going-to-pass-off-those-opinions-as-my-own guys in the same room arguing about the game.  That’s like watching an intoxicated NFL on FOX Pregame Show, which is like watching the NFL on FOX Pregame Show.

Multiple TVs

If you’re like me and have a bladder the size of a penny and see commercials that talk about a “going problem” and then you wonder if you’re old enough to have a “growing problem” you might be going to the bathroom a lot.  If you’re like me and drink all of your beer before the first half and wonder why you’re constantly the only one laughing then you might be going to the bathroom a lot.  Put a TV in the bathroom and any other room that people might frequent often and you’ll never miss a play or an awkwardly placed Cialis commercial.  Just be aware of any HD to non-HD time delays that would ruin your viewing enjoyment and potentially give you the power to see the future.

DVR

You’ll want to record the game not for the game highlights that will be replayed endlessly for the next 3 weeks, but for the commercials, the potential awkwardness of Bruce Springsteen and the 3,000 random people they’ll let run onto the field up to the stage, and the potential nipple slip (would it be Bruce or the guy from The Sopranos?).  Not to mention by the end of the game your memory might be going a bit fuzzy so it wouldn’t hurt to wake up the next day and find out who won.

Actual Fans of One of the Teams

Is it essential?  Maybe not.  Does it make it more enjoyable when you have no emotional attachment to the game and your friend just pee’d the couch he’s so nervous?  Absolutely.  You’ll be able to ride him into the ground about how much his team sucks all game, and then if his team wins, you can kindly congratulate him on a fan hood well done.  If his team loses then you can ride him into the ground about how much his team sucks all year.  It’s a win-win.

Food

Skip your carb-free diet for the day.  Your goal is to take a day off from counting calories, grams of fat, or number of slices of pizza and eat enough fattening foods to make your blood flow like the motor oil from a ’93 Buick Lesabre an old lady never changed.  You want to go on an eating binge with such a force it makes women turn their heads in disgust and your buddy take a head count of his kids he brought over in case you accidentally ate his baby.  Inappropriate?  Maybe. Warranted?  Certainly.  The Biggest Day of the Year is a much more important food holiday than Thanksgiving.  Its true Turkey Day brings in enough food to make you fall into Detroit Lion seduced coma, but the food you consume is not nearly as bad for you than the bypass surgery friendly meals you’ve got heading your way.  As appetizing as the vegetable dip that’s been stabbed at so much it looks like a scene from Saving Private Ryan and has enough double dipped bacteria a subway platform would be grossed out looks: stay away.  You need to eat fried food.  Processed meats.  Enough wings to make poultry farmers purchase time shares and Mother Hen seek birth control.  You need to Carpe Heart Disease.

Alcohol

Obviously.

Off on Monday

This makes all other essential Super Bowl party tips look like Madden recommended play calls.  There is nothing more important, more sought after, and more enjoyable than watching the Super Bowl and not having that nagging little gremlin in the back of your brain endlessly toiling on and on about how you have to work in the morning.  As much as you like to convince yourself that work tomorrow won’t be so bad as everyone else will be tired and at least you’ll be able to talk about how funny that one commercial with the gorilla and Burt Reynolds was you can’t possibly believe that you’d rather be there than passed out on the couch with one shoe on and your elbow in guacamole.  That co-worker you see more than any other person in your entire life will still be there on Tuesday, still with the un-ironed shirt and remarkably potent coffee breath that made the spring training schedule peel off the wall of your cubicle.  The trick is to fake an illness on Friday, actually go to the doctor and complain about something they can’t check on like a headache or genital herpes and then get a doctor’s note and spend the rest of the weekend coming up with a story that includes you throwing up for three days and being so upset you slept through the Super Bowl all while asking how the commercials were and if Springsteen played your favorite insert-a-Boss-song-here song.  If you can pull this off than sitting alone watching the Super Bowl in the dark on a 9" black and white TV will be a more enjoyable experience than having a Super Blowout and still having to get up at 6am for work.  Make the effort; make the call, fake an illness, stay home on Monday, bask in your glory.

 

Somebody get Dennis Quaid on the phone.

The perennial B-list star (or is it C-list? Or does your letter grade fluctuate like an experimental collegiate stoner?) seems like the perfect fit to play the Hollywood life story of an NFL quarterback destined for the Hall of Fame.  No Quaid doesn’t have the hairline for Peyton, or the Giselle-like dreaminess required for Brady, but he’ll be playing a guy who’s had a much more interesting path that’s led him to Canton.  He’ll be playing a guy who’s led two different teams to a Super Bowl, something Peyton and Brady haven’t done.  The only guy who set an NFL record by throwing for more than 400 yards in a Super Bowl, and then racked up the #2 all time spot with 365 yards.  A guy who’s owned a gray 5 o’clock shadow since he burst onto the NFL scene a decade ago. 

He’ll be playing Kurt Warner, former Super Bowl and NFL MVP and future NFL Hall of Fame inductee.

When you think Hall of Fame quarterbacks you think guys like Montana, Young, Marino, and Bradshaw, but if one of the first 5-45 guys you think of is Kurt Warner then you’re either a rabid Cardinals fan (bandwagon’s full boys!) or a Rams fan sitting in your basement making Marc Bulger voodoo dolls.  Unless your dad has Cardinals season tickets chances are you aren’t dropping back in your backyard throwing Nerf balls to wide open trees yelling “Warner to Fitzgerald!”  Warner just doesn’t seem like the guy who will end up having one of the most impressive NFL resumes of all time.  In fact good ole Kurtis Eugene Warner seems like the family man next door who brings food to the needy and stays home with the wife and kids on Friday nights to play Uno.  Yet that’s exactly who he is; a family man who loves God, gives back to the community, and isn’t found on the red carpet of movie premieres or impregnating actresses and models.  Mastercard isn’t banging down his door to “cut that meat, cut that meat”.  Nike isn’t asking him to Just Do much of anything.  Actually when you think about it you’re more likely to see Kurt Warner in a Nutrisystem commercial (real food for real guys) than you are a commercial for Under Armour, Citizen Eco Watches, or the actual NFL.  He just isn’t the main attraction NFL MVPs usually are. 

Maybe it’s because ever since Kurt Warner was given a shot in St Louis he’s never been the guy you want to build a franchise around.  If given the chance to start your own NFL franchise and bring in a quarterback to lead your team to the Promised Land would you ever pick the former NFL Europe’er?  Wouldn’t you just let him fall to the perennial losers in your Madden franchise fantasy draft, to like oh I don’t know, the Arizona Cardinals?  Wasn’t he 37 years old in 1999?  Didn’t he bag groceries, never get a shot in the NFL, play in the Arena Football League, play NFL Europe, and have a backup named Jake Delhomme over there?  And you’re supposed to build a team around him?  I’d rather draft Vince Young and let the Madden progression ratings make him inVincible in two simulated years (and then I’ll bench him for emotional reasons detrimental to my simulated fantasy team…and sign Kurt Warner off waivers).

You could brush off his years with the Rams by saying the Greatest Show on Turf was just a collection of talented players like Bruce, Faulk, and Holt with a quarterback who could manage a game well and lob it 40 yards down field.  You could say the yards he racked up were aided tremendously by dump off passes in the flat to Marshal Faulk, another HOF’er, who embarrassed DB’s for a solid four years in St Louis.  But here Kurt is again, being the low-key-saying-all-the-right-things-constantly-thanking-God-in-every-interview-all-while-rocking-the-gray-scruff kinda guy he is, right back in the thick of NFL history. 

Here he is again, after coming back from being cut by the NFL, being successful in a now defunct league, being successful in a foreign league, being successful on the highest stage, being pushed aside when his body didn’t cooperate, being bounced around for veteran backup purposes to highly drafted stars, and finally getting his shot again to lob passes 40 yards down field and keep to his quiet championship winning self.  Only this time he’s with the Arizona Cardinals, this year’s New York Giants, who sport a running game that even Rudy ‘sweet feet’ Huxtable would have a hard time igniting and a passing attack that lies squarely on his shoulders. 

 Even with the NFL’s newly appointed ‘best wide receiver of the month’ Larry Fitzgerald and the fiery Anquan Boldin, Warner will find himself staring at the impossible task at leading a team who has been a joke for the better part of twenty years over a Steel Curtain.Kurt’s an immobile Super Bowl MVP.  A one dimensional NFL MVP.  The numbers don’t lie; the awards are set in stone.  Much like Rothelesberger adding another Super Bowl ring to his hand, or McNabb if he ever breaks through Philadelphia heartbreak to grab a title, there can be an easy argument that there have been far more talented quarterbacks in history but if the resume fits the job description than Canton is an equal opportunity employer.  It’s no wonder Kurt Warner is always thanking God though, as his career path has been anything but orthodox and nothing short of a professional sports miracle.  And while the hopes of a downtrodden franchise lie with a 37 year old who rushed for -2 yards this season, the veteran finds himself in a familiar position; given the shot of a lifetime with the world betting against him.

Once again Kurt Warner has no choice but to be what he’s always been; a B-list star making NFL history.

I thought I'd document my thoughts on monday night's two hour second straight night of 24 because of all the thoughts i had in the massive portion of my week i devoted to Jack Bauer.  This is what came out:

The following takes place between 8:00pm and 10:00pm

Thoughts occur in real time.

8:00pm: Am I excited that 24 is back after a layoff that made LOST’s layoff look like a smoke break?  Sure.  Am I excited I’m spending four hours in the past two days to watch it?  Not really.  Sure 24 has to have a lot of episodes during their season (somewhere around 24 right?) but doing the fake 24 premiere about a month ago that tricked me into thinking it was the actual season premiere but instead just a lot of explosions in Africa, and then making me watch four hours of FOX commercial breaks is just cruel.

8:01pm: 24 is a show you actually have to pay attention to, I mean you could just watch to see how often Jack’s voice goes into raspy-I’ve-been-smoking-for-more-years-than-I’ve-been-alive whisper in someone’s earlobe, but if I space out to write a sentence or think about how I could get into CTU I miss entire plot twists.  I wonder if CTU exists…hmmm…

8:04pm: I don’t know how they elected this Madam President.  I don’t have anything against a female president, but she’s just too nice, seeming like the caring mother whose turn it is to drive the kid’s to daycare/run a national security crisis.  I just would picture Hilary Clinton making a call on a security issue and threatening to castrate everyone in the room like she did her husband.

8:09pm: This head of the FBI gentleman is clearly the head coach of the JV team for the Eden Hall Warriors prep team.  You know, the team that played Varsity to a thrilling victory with their scholarships on the line orchestrated by a coach turned re born lawyer Gordon Bombay after losing their team captain because he didn’t want to play defense only to have him return after a series of practical jokes on the clearly in their 30s Varsity team a few roller blading montages and meeting a smart chick who doesn’t like sports?  What do you mean you don’t remember Mighty Ducks 3?

8:10pm: Jack just took out Tanner the shooter and met with the Freckled Wonder and put on glasses he found in a coke deal in 1973.  Seriously, Jack Bauer makes everything look cool.  I half expect him to start interrogating Tony with a pin wheel hat and a pair of swimmies on and I’ll still think it’s appropriate attire for a rogue secret agent.

8:14pm: FBI agent Renee Walker is so freckly wonderful, which makes me think of whether or not attractive women work for FBI or is it just a collection of Janeane Garofalo’s and Chloe’s.

8:22pm: Head of CTU Bill looks like an albino senior citizen and I can’t stop thinking about at what point will my facial hair be completely white and whether or not it will be cool to rock a five o’clock shadow or will I just look like I need to be in an assisted living environment.

8:23pm: OK I lied about thoughts occurring in real time.  I DVR’d 24 and am watching it about an hour after it started airing in order to escape the onslaught of FOX commercials that include heartwarming American Idol previews that make me wonder if American citizenship will one day require trying out for American Idol at least once in your life.  Do they pay all those people to show up?  Do they go to an Ohio State football game, scream “Go Buckeyes!” and just place like three people with guitars in the foreground to make it look like they’re there for American Idol?  Seriously in one of those screenshots the state of Rhode Island tried out.  Whole state population.  I’m angry.

Also the best thing about DVR’ing shows is watching commercials in fast forward and then randomly hitting pause to see what you stop on.  Currently I’m stuck on a Quizno’s commercial which seems normal enough with their taste testing methods on a crowded busy street with smoke dust and dirt getting all over 700 freshly toasted yesterday subs, yet the best part about this screenshot is I just so happened to pause right when it says in tiny print “paid consumer testimonials”.  Now I may be naïve but how is this an effective method to sell me sandwiches.  Why am I going to pay attention to what blonde woman in scarf thinks about the 6 pounds of roast beef she just put in her mouth?  Oh and you paid her to tell you that?  Bring back Michael Clarke Duncan’s voice.  Now I’m fast forwarding through the local news preview “Is your water population contaminated by puppies? More after 24”.  Back to Jack.

8:36pm: I can’t take Chloe seriously.  I’m sorry I can’t.  Every season I see her I just wonder how she got this job, and how, if there really is only a three person operation to take down a global conspiracy at the highest level, she got involved. To take down this infiltration we’ll need the head of CTU, a rogue undercover agent gone good, and this mousey girl who looks like she has to poop when she’s worried, and she’s always worried.  What’s that Janeane Garofalo?  Yes exactly, we’ll need your pointless services too.

8:42pm: The President’s husband has a ton of free time.  He is the most annoying storyline of the show so far.  A close second though is…

8:43pm: Janeane Garofalo is clearly the most annoying employee at the FBI. I bet she has lunch alone.  Do FBI agents even get lunch breaks?  Do they track a terrorist cell group and then stop for 30 minutes to enjoy freshly toasted subs from Quizno’s? 

8:51pm: Took about 8 minutes for me to realize the sarcastic desk jockey at the FBI who everyone will hate but will love because of his caring heart of gold is actually Billy Walsh from Entourage.  He has that I-have-to-shave-between-takes look about him.  I can relate.

8:52pm: The dad from American Pie just led the security team into the interrogation room to check on the coach of the Eden Hall JV Ducks.

8:54pm: I am falling in love with this freckly freckled FBA agent.  I vote for a spin off where she just walks around in the hallways talking about FBI incidents but the camera never leaves her.   Text the number 24 on your AT&T wireless device to vote for Freckles.

9:07 pm: If I see another commercial about House I’m going to contract a mysterious disease.  Seriously what is the attraction of all of these shows that start with a problem, throw in witty comments, solve the problem, see you next week.  Law and Order has been doing this method since the phonograph and I can’t stand the likes of House and CSI New York through Fargo and any other show that has a crime and then solves it with no continuity in any story except characters leaving to do other formats of the same show.  I swear every time I watch FOX I should get my blood pressure checked.  All I need now is Joe Buck.

9:09pm: So Tony really was dead, for about the length of a FOX commercial break, and now he’s bitter, alone, and a patriot turned terrorist turned patriot.  At what point does he turn actual terrorist again?  At what point does he die again?  At what point do awkward moments with him and Jack stop?

9:14pm: Billy Walsh is so pissed at work.  I would be too if I was chained to a desk with some anxiety trendy glasses chick always buzzing over my shoulder and Super Freckles walking awesomely by in fabulous pant suits.  In. Love.

9:22pm: Simon Cowell has chicklets for teeth.

9:34pm:  It took me a while to process the story as to why Jack is helping Chloe’s Gang of Freedom Fighters.  Also, is there smiling allowed on 24?  No one ever smiles, not even in a sarcastic way.  And people love whispering.  I’m waiting for one character to be like you want me to do what? I can’t hear your baritone whispering Jack.

9:36pm: Jack and Tony are at the house together.  Chloe looks like she has to poop.

9:37pm: Bill looks like a post gastric bypass surgery Santa Claus.

9:38pm: Jack is officially on the Bad Guys team now.  Do things like this really happen?  I’m in the zone.  One sentence at a time from here on out.

9:41pm: I don’t care if the President’s husband storyline is the most important storyline of the show; if it doesn’t include guns or Jack directly then I don’t care.

9:46pm: Freckly Freckle is no longer playing by head coach’s non torture rules.  I don’t know if I like her losing her innocence this early in the show.  She’s now interrogating Tanner in the hospital by jabbing a gun into his side and cutting off his air supply.  Text 24 to your AT&T wireless device to vote for Freckles to torture Janeane Garofalo instead.

9:52pm: It’s Remy!  Mr. Ecko’s brother from LOST!  Where’s Mr Ecko?  Is there a grab bag of network primetime actors needed for African roles?  I feel like I’ve seen every one of these men in various movies like Congo and Operation Dumbo Drop.

9:54pm: I would fill my own safe room with TVs and computers and food.  Basically a reinforced concrete enclosed version of my living room.

10:00pm: I like the start to this season of 24.  There’s a good mix of characters and the storyline was shaky at first but Jack being a bad guy (yes that’s how I refer to them) makes up for a few storylines I’m spacing out to (basically everything with the President and her husband).  If Jack Bauer was an athlete he’d be Brett Farve of two years ago, pre worried-about-legacy time.  Hopefully Jack doesn’t stretch out this season too much like Brett did.  I’ve got to go though; I’m making the Chloe face.

I began to make peace with the season with 6:09 left in the 4^th quarter.

The Giants were still in the process of “establishing the run” for what seemed like 6 quarters of 4 yard rushes and 3^rd and 3 situations and FOX had just come back from a commercial break that was spent with Dennis Leary talking about the Ford F150 in bold print for 3 days straight when all the flaws of the NFC’s royalty began to finally emerge as fatal.  The inability to move the chains on the ground in the face of a stacked line.  The lack of a downfield passing option besides a second year tight end.  Dennis the Menace playing quarterback.

Then it all made sense.

Throughout weeks of analysis from experts who pick one point and beat it to death with hairspray and mocha latte colored ties with mocha latte colored suits it was easy to think that this NFC East battle was going to be a narrow victory by the heroes of a year ago.  But these weren’t the heroes of a year ago, as they were a much different team with year-long symptoms that finally proved to be too much. 

A year ago the Giants handled Tom Brady, Donovan McNabb, Tony Romo, Jeff Garcia, and Brett Favre all with the most balanced and methodical pass rush that hit its stride late in the season.  One of the greatest pass rushers of all time, Michael Strahan, bookended with a tenacious Osi Umenyiora all hopped up on 5 hour energy shots, and complemented with a roaming Justin Tuck created a defense that, at least in the 4^th quarter, embarrassed Tom Brady and the mighty Patriots a year ago.  Now the Giants, still known for their blitz packages, had to rely on safety blitzes and pulling cornerbacks because not one but two of those defense linemen were no longer playing (one getting straight up paid at FOX, and the other on the sidelines, although both wearing mocha latte colored ties with mocha latte colored suits).  If you remove two Pro Bowl caliber pass rushers from a year ago you need to replace them with two Pro Bowl caliber pass rushers if you expect the same outcome, and while Justin Tuck had a great year offenses finally caught on to double teaming him and letting Mathias Kiwanuka, a good not great pass rusher, come off one on one.  And that roaming Justin Tuck-like rusher from a year ago?  He was replaced with streaking 5’9” guys who get lost in the fat rolls of left guards.  So while the Giants still had a defense that was ranked in the upper half of the league in sacks, it wasn’t the menacing machine it was a year ago.

 So was it football injuries that caused the Giants to be dethroned more embarrassingly at home then when your legs fall asleep when you sit on the can for too long?  Well sort of, because the biggest factor in the Giants lack of a passing game was the guy missing because he shot himself (“Honey how come that tall guy isn’t catching the ball from Eli anymore?” “Oh he shot himself dear”.  Still sounds great to say).  The Giants receiving core without Plax was that of a serviceable group of #3 wide receivers.  Amani Toomer has been a Giant great, and worthy to be remembered forever by the fans of Big Blue, but his role on the team has diminished so much due to his inability to get open.  With Plax on the field, Toomer was able to come off one on one and be a valuable second option to Eli, one that was reliable and effective, much like Cris Carter at the end of his career matched with Randy Moss.  Now take out the NFL’s best wide receiver (why the NFL’s best?  Because no one changes an offense in the league right now like Plax did with the Giants.  Not T.O., because Romo is having an affair with Jason Witten, and not Randy Moss, because Wes Wel-kaahh is constantly getting open.  The only argument I can think of is Andre Johnson in Houston but sometimes I forget the Texans are a team) and you’re left with a quality tight end and five or so #3 wide receivers.  Guys like Toomer and Dominek Hixon are not good, but great #3 wide outs, but that’s like saying “you’re great for the third girl I’m going to try and take home tonight, besides those first two were skanks anyways”.

So with 6:09 left in the 4^th quarter I made peace with the season.

It wasn’t because I had to think of a comeback for the text messages and emails I was about to receive from excited fans of the City of Brotherly Crap.  It wasn’t because the Giants, with so many expectations and a clear cut path to another Super Bowl laid out for them in a windy cold field they actually like to play in, were just a good, not great, team.  It was because another emotionally invested season was slipping away in a matter of minutes.  All the training camp updates, mid season injury reports, and lofty predictions meant nothing because of a few stalled drives and a few missed field goals.  Roger Kahn once wrote “You may glory in a team triumphant, but you fall in love with a team in defeat” and its seasons like this one that make you appreciate seasons like a year ago that much more.  Winning one Super Bowl was a gift, an unexpected one that made it that much better to receive, but expecting to win two is like immediately taking two rolls when the bread comes at a dinner party; it’s greedy and everyone hates you.

So now as the bottom half of the playoff seeds vie for a Super Bowl berth I’ll glance next week as the Steelers and Ravens play into a 4^th overtime with a 3-3 deadlock (this time they can’t tie Donovan) and as the Cardinals and Eagles hinge on the effectiveness of Kurt Warner and an Arizona crowd that won’t know what to do, but I won’t be excited.  I’ll be too busy watching the headlines as the Giants sheepishly allow Plaxico Burress back in a blue uniform (a Giants one not the penitentiary), Eli Manning reads from the Generic Quarterback Interview Responses After A Loss text book, and the endless debates of which running back to resign and which to let go.  Even so I’m more excited now for pitchers and catchers to report, the free agency market to finally settle, and to count the number of times I can see Peter Gammons on TV in one day.

Like I said, I made peace with the season.

Life is all about momentum.

Getting hot at the right time can lead to career promotions, huge gains at the blackjack table, or a string of STDs even the Fonz would be proud of.  Having that confidence is the same force that led A.C. Slater to an undefeated wrestling career or Rocky Balboa to run through forty some odd random opponents while Clubber Lang looked on in disgust/with feather earrings.

The Philadelphia Eagles have momentum.

The Eagles stood on the brink of elimination weeks ago, a mere afterthought to an NFC East that was almost surely going to produce both the Giants and the Cowboys as playoff contenders. Now a few short surprising plays from the Birds and  Romo-to T.O. EHarmony match made by Satan and the Eagles are flying high faster than Coach Reid could look up from his $5 foot-long to notice.  So as Brian Westbrook feat. The Philadelphia Eagles prepare to face the New York Giants (playing the role of Plaxico Burress tonight will be no one) a case can be made for either team to come on top.  So I’ll try:

The Case for the Eagles:

The Eagles will take on a Giants team that hasn’t played a do-or-die game since they pounded Tom Brady a season ago.  Sure they had division clinching games and a home field nail-biter against the Panthers, but the Giants and the playoffs have been a formality since the Mop Top began throwing to the Gun Slinger in week 1.  Now Plax is gone, and while commentators from every network (Come On Man) originally said that the likes of Hixon, Smith, and Toomer can replace him, clearly they haven’t done the job yet.  Now the Giants are left with a receiving core that looks like a collection of #3 wide outs (Andy Reid: “Hey that’s my idea!”) and are forced to rely heavily on the run.  Throw in that everyone on Coughlin’s staff has been interviewing all week for the 20 some odd coaching vacancies in the NFL and distractions might be running ramped.

The Eagles have the coveted chip on their shoulder though.  They have nothing to lose, no business in being there, and with no expectations they have no pressure.  They can handle New York’s excellent pass rush with 2 yard dump off passes to Westbrook in the flat for 13 yard gains, and it will eat at the Giants defense like Tony Siragusa eats small children on the sidelines.  The Eagles are relentless in their use of Westbrook, rightfully so, as he is the Tiki Barber of five years ago sans creepy twin: a back that is involved in every aspect of your offense.  Add that to an Eagles defense that always shows up in NFC East matchups and Philly has a team that looks very familiar to the Giants of a year ago: defense that clicks at the right time, a shaky QB who always seems to grind out a win, and a we-might-not-belong-here mentality.

The Case for the Giants:

Donovan McNabb.

…

…….

……….

It took me every ounce of resistance not to leave this section at just McNabb alone but I should probably explain.  Isn’t this the same quarterback who was benched weeks ago for playing so poorly?  Isn’t this the same quarterback who both literally and metaphorically threw up at the Super Bowl a few years ago?  The same quarterback who has Eagle fans calling for his head at least twice a season for his entire career?  McNabb has never, ever, had the full confidence from his fan base.  He is the Keanu Reeves of the NFL: a big name that people continuously pay money to see thus keeping him a job and qualifying him as “successful” yet still would never be trusted with an Oscar caliber role- there’s just too much riding on it.  Add that to the fact that he admits he didn’t know you could tie in a game and he might as well say he knows kung fu.

The Giants run game has been a beast, and with a rested Jacobs and Ward they should be able to give the youngest Prince Manning enough leverage for a few successful play action strikes.  It’s when they let Eli do his best Brett Favre impersonation (throw on 3 straight downs mixed with a slow scramble and a floater off the back foot into triple coverage capped off with a surprised “what are you guys doing?” look when camped under and caught by 6 safeties simultaneously) when the Giants offense sputters, so a commitment to the run should lead to victory.

The Case for Fans to Have Two-Cups-of-Coffee-Before-Breakfast Bowel Movements

There’s no clear cut way to call this game.  The Giants blow the Eagles out? It could happen.  The Eagles upset the Giants by twenty? Yeah that too.  They play into OT? Sure but McNabb would be worried about a tie.  Regardless any outcome of this game is believable because any outcome of this game would make perfect sense.  The underdog riding a hot streak with something to prove or the reigning champs throwing their weight around would both make perfect stories for Monday.

But this is New York vs. Philly.  It’s Eagles- Giants, Sixers-Knicks, Phillies-Mets, Flyers-Rangers, Cheesesteaks-Pizza, Loud and Obnoxious- Loud and Obnoxious: they are all classic battles.  It’s the reason fans are on edge more so than if it were Giants-Chiefs or Eagles-Rams; there’s a rivalry involved.  So now fans will have to sit at the screen and yell “where are you throwing Donovan?!” or “why are we throwing screen passes to Steve Smith?!” all game as they sweat four quarters out and internally make up excuses if their team loses like “Westbrook didn’t show up” or “we couldn’t get a pass rush on McNabb” or “I will murder you”.  Either way it should be an edge of your seat “Guys shut up I’m trying to hear Troy Aikman” type game, with the winner needing that price asset to move on in the playoffs:

Momentum.

(Do you get momentum with a tie?)