57:00 on the clock and a downright sick feeling in my stomach. The exact same feeling I had in 2007 except this time much more visceral - I was seated in section 103 row 17, surrounded by Giants fans and my somber family. Once it got to 4th and 26, or whatever the hell it actually was, I began the walk of shame up the beautiful Lucas Oil Stadium staircase. I was wearing my Brady jersey and an Indy Superbowl hat that was void of any team preference, a hat I had picked out deliberately in case the Pats lost. As I begin this cursed ascent, just about the only thing I hear are vicious remarks aimed along the lines of, "What happened Brady" and other jeers coming from drunk Giant fans, aimed at me, who are reveling in their victory. At just about the top of the seemingly endless staircase and with the exit in sight, this one absolutely hammered Pats fan begins speaking, "Don't you fucking leave, don't you stop watching, Tom Brady is the man." Now I would be lying if he wasn't completely shitfaced or if I said I didn't have serious doubts in this game, but I decided to stay and watch the 4th down. Amongst the chants of "One more play!" Brady threw an iced rope to Deion Branch shutting up the crowd, and this drunken fan and I immediately shared a passionate hug while my father laughed next to me. Now maybe I had a shimmer of hope, but as 100's of millions know, this game did not turn out for a Pats fan. 
When the last pass of the game hit the turf I did not wait for confetti or to even look at the field, I began walking. This walk, however, is about 2 miles through downtown Indy with the final destination the Yellow Parking Zone section E, where a rental Kia mini van waited. In what amounted to the longest walk of shame of my life, my phone ended up with 14 missed messages and 6 missed calls- none of which were condolences. With the messages came the public jabs and jeering of joyous fans, also more personal remarks like, "We're getting fucked up tonight!" Now I have made life vows to never watch highlights of the game or to watch the Giants on field celebration, so the worst is I cannot watch Sportscenter for the next 18 months. I will also have to enter a "Mourn Gorge" phase, where I will do nothing but be sad and eat heinous amounts of refrigerated food for a long long time. Throughout the weekend I had experienced countless luxuries any fan would have loved to have, and I cannot deny the trip was sad yet phenomenal, and as my plane took off and my headphones played Take It Easy by the Eagles, I looked down on Lucas Oil with no regrets.
New Message: "Did Welker but butter on his fingers before that drive?"
...I'm starting to have some regrets
Eat up Big Blue fans.
ACL Blues
When my girlfriend broke up with me via AIM in 6th grade she broke my heart. I put my iPod original, the one with all the buttons (not just the scroll wheel), on repeat, and went to bed 30 minutes early so I could listen to like 12 go rounds of Akon's Mr. Lonely before my mom made me go to sleep. But Blues, what the fuck does that have to do with the superbowl? Nothing at all. It just kind of sounds like what Blaine just said. You didn't really feel bad for me at all, did you? In honesty, I don't feel bad for that kid for one second. You have Tom Brady. You have 3 recent super-bowls. You have a fighting chance in the playoffs EVERY SINGLE YEAR. Every ESPN Analyst can't wait to talk about your team. Fuck, they even highered that clown Rodney Harrison to provide analysis more biased than Casey Anthony trial.
I haven't seen the Chiefs win a playoff game in 18 fucking years. I had to watch the likes of Brodie Croyle, Damon Huard, Tyler Thigpen, and Tyler Palko while Brady was off banging girls so perfect I can't even picture them in my dreams, and drowning Wilfork in Champagne spray, the chiefs were deciding which LSU bust they were going to take in the draft. So don't you come after all of our beautiful readers with these pity-magnet posts crying about why Boston chokes in literally every sport, ever. This is what happens when you fuck with NY, and I don't mean the Jets.
Also, as is tradition I will now proceed to bash a seemingly harmless and gutsy professional athlete because of some ridiculous bias I have against them. This one goes out to Julian Edelman. I don't want to hear how he's Mr. Everything and all that. He's Mr. Nothing. He's a below average defensive player. He's a below average offensive player. He's limited as a returner. So Boston, relax with this whole Ironman thing. He's about as important to the Pats as this blog is to the Giants. So therefore, Edelman has earned himself a one-way trip to this blogger's doghouse, and I'm burying the key in that beautiful divot in Brady's chin.
Sorry Boston :(
-ACL (Big)Blues
hang in there acl blues, this comment is for you.
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