Monday, February 4, 2008

HEROS.

On my way to work this morning, I stopped off at Model's and bought my XLII Super Bowl Champions tshirt. The place was crowded, throngs of businessmen tearing through a messes of fan gear, but, if you can imagine it, they did so with excessive cheer. Someone actually patted me on the back as I checked out. It's the morning after, and TMT's excitement is unabated. Our NY Football Giants are world champions.

Their victory (and let's face it, ours) would have felt great had they beaten any team in the NF
L, but against the previously "undefeated" Patriots, the absolute favorites, and my dad's team, it is better. It's sweeter. What a fucking game.

TMT would like to personally thank a few of our boys for their spectacular play last night, and we have to start at the top.

Dear Eli,
You played superbly throughout (that one "interception" should be called a fumble). But the last drive, Eli, that last drive made us want to hug you and call you our captain. When you avoided the rush, when you wiggled out and got off that pass to Tyree, you proved your heart gigantic and that you are elite.

Tyree,
What hands. What what hands. What hands and helmet and football and holding it when you went down. What a back bend. What retention. What the fuck must the Pats have thought when you stole away the game.

Plax,
You are a tall, lean, muscle machine. And sometimes you are a little weasel. Never apologize. You talk shit, but then as promised, deliver a stinking load right down their throats. Thank you for playing hurt and for your game winning catch. Take a bow (we know you will).

Strahan, Osi, Tuck, you are gods among men. You are fearless, terrifying monsters of my heart. I don't think Brady will ever be the same after the hurt you put on his Stetson-smelling ass. You deserve all spoils.

To the rest of the team, Jacobs, Kawika, Toomer, Pierce, Bradshaw, Torber, Diel, O'Hara, Ross, Cofield, Hedgecock, Dockery, Hixon, McKenzie, Madison, Webster, Shock, everyone, you can come over for dinner anytime. And we'll even make meat in your honor.

No comments:

Post a Comment