Super Bowl Final Score: Patriots 32, Panthers 29, There It Is -- Screwed

So, I’m hanging out at my friend Shawn’s house to watch the game. I, like most other people in the country, am involved in a block pool through work. I had two blocks – one crappy (Carolina 5, NE 6) and one really good (Carolina 3, NE 0). I didn’t come close on either one. While this may seem to be upsetting, the worst was yet to come. By the fourth quarter, I had long since given up any hope of connecting on one of my blocks. I was thus able to sit back and relax -- as much as I could with two young kids there -- and enjoy the game and the commercials. One of the guys who was supposed to show at this party was running another block pool, which I of course entered. Well, the guy never showed so I never knew what numbers I had. Again, this helped me to relax and enjoy the game. So I thought. Just as the Patriots scored their last touchdown to go up 27-22 and before the extra point, Shawn received a phone call, part of which was to let him know what numbers everybody had. It just so happened that I wound up with Carolina 2 and NE 9. As I’m hearing this, the camera cuts to Patriots coach Bill Belichick holding up two fingers -- indicating the Patriots should go for 2 points instead of the easy extra point kick. You’re kidding right?! They direct snap to running back Kevin Faulk. What?! A trick play on a two-point conversion with three minutes left in the Super Bowl?! And they make it!! NE 29, Carolina 22. Suddenly, I’m leaning forward on the edge of my seat with a $100 interest in the game. All the Pats need to do is stop the Panthers from going 80 yards in three minutes. Easy right? A great defense playing against Jake freaking Delhomme with the Super Bowl on the line. I’m sitting pretty. I’m already discussing how I’m going to spend my winnings (I’m one of the few people in America who still hasn’t upgraded from the original Playstation). Then the Panthers take the field. Seven plays, 80 yards, and a minute and forty-two seconds later and the expletives are flying. sad;lvh. sdlgjsA:b. ;sdagb;ws. Sorry, that was my head banging against the keyboard. I swear to god, I saw one play where the Pats only rushed two linemen after Delhomme. This means they had 9 guys -- nine!! -- in pass coverage against five receivers. skha[skfb. prohtup]jt';dm. ]5-03hyfl'danbl. They could play man against everybody and still have four other guys left to play zone. No one was covered on the play!! Ricky Proehl was wide open for a 31 yard gain. What were these guys looking at?! The Pats defense was suddenly populated with students from St. Mary’s School for the Visually Challenged. I’m still to stunned to speak intelligently about it. Frustration is the best way to describe what I’m feeling, but it hasn’t ebbed in the 10 hours or so since the end of the game. If anything, it’s gotten worse since I’ve had more time to think about it. So I have now added the Patriots to my list of People/Teams I Hate in Sports. 2pr5uhp[. 24-79pirwasklnb. Anyway, this rant was supposed to make me feel better. It hasn’t. I’m sitting here seeing Delhomme hit Proehl in the end zone. I’m listening to my friends laugh at me. I’m hearing my blood boil. I’m feeling the aneurysm getting ready to pop in my brain. ‘OEURBNHO. ORS UGHR. OSAIHG O’BEH. I . . . I . . . I don’t know. How am I supposed to get any work done today? Skjg ho. Wlrhgow. H R[HB. Somebody please remind me next year not to enter any pools.