Surprise, Surprise...

One of the things that I love about professional sports is that, every now and again, something totally crazy-go-nuts will happen and you'll get to lean back, take a sip of your beer, and think, "ah, isn't it nice to live in world where what should happen isn't necessarily what will happen." I'm talking about things like the Colorado Rockies making it to the World Series last year, or Villanova beating Georgetown in 1985, and now... well, last night, actually... the New York Giants not only besting the Favre-lead Green Bay Packers, but doing so at Lambeau Field under weather conditions that would compare favorably to those on the ice planet, Hoth (incidentally, people in Wisconsin call this "flip-flop weather").

Like, I'm not even a Giants fan... not in the least... but goddamn, you got to hand it to those guys. They earned their spot in the Super Bowl, no two ways about it. Even Eli Manning, whom I've called a dork on this very site, and whom I normally wouldn't trust to handle a run down to the Rite-Aid for candy, much less a football, showed up in Green Bay wearing his man-pants and his I-will-not-be-denied jersey. Even though I still think that he looks like a pouting thirteen year old when plays on the field don't go his way, I have to say, though I can barely talk through all this pride that I'm swallowing... well done, sir. Well done.

If they end up actually winning the Super Bowl, taking down the automaton robots from the future that are the New England Patriots, then I will be officially convinced that we've somehow slipped into an alternate dimension where up is down, your mom's home cooking tastes like a McDonald's Filet O' Fish, and the underdogs of the sporting world truly do rule the Earth.

Of course, that's not going to happen... the Patriots are going to treat the Giants like the big lizard-thing treated Manhattan in Cloverfield. But still, if it did happen... wowzers.

Now I've just got to figure out who to root for in two weeks. Choosing either the Patriots or the Giants... I don't know, there's a lot I'm going to have to get right with in my heart before I can walk down either of those paths. I guess the third option would be to root for neither and just watch the game for the glory of the sport and, of course, for the commercials. Hell, maybe I'll just throw all my considerable weight behind Tom Petty and hope against hope that he plays "Mary Jane's Last Dance."

Well, no matter what happens, let's not forget the most important thing... I don't have to go to work today! Thanks, Dr. King, for just being you!