The time is here folks—the most obnoxious two weeks in sports has begun.
The post-conference championship/pre-Super Bowl waiting period is in full swing and I couldn’t be more annoyed.
As a Giants fan, I couldn’t be any happier that my team did what few expected them to after a 9-7 regular season. They lost five out of six games at one point, and are now on the docket to play in this year’s Super Bowl.
Even better than that, they get another shot to prove that their 2007 performance was more than just a fluke, as so many Patriots fans and Giants haters are so quick to claim. I’ve even had one Patriots fan tell me it didn’t count—but that is a different issue for a different day.
For the moment, I’d just like to touch upon the hype that will undoubtedly be flowing from every visual or vocal orifice that dares to harbor Super Bowl aspirations until Feb. 5.
Media day will likely be entertaining, and Michael Strahan’s increased appearances on Subway, Dr. Pepper, and any other gap-related commercial always give me a chuckle. Unfortunately, everything else is just noise.
Antonio Pierce and Tedy Bruschi will almost undoubtedly be facing off with their ill-formed and loudly yelled opinions almost daily on SportsCenter until only the most loyal of fans can even stand to turn the program on past the final 10 minutes of the hour so they can catch the top plays.
No other championship in sports is like this, and it can be argued that none other has the right to be, but I disagree. They play the games for a reason and injuries are a part of them. Something can be said for both teams playing each other at their best, but the reality is that the NFL and major TV networks know they can continue to cash in for an extra week if they push it back.
Should there be a week off?
Yes, I’m able to get an extra week to plan my elaborate Super Bowl party, Giants-themed guacamole and all (don’t ask how I get it to turn blue). I will also finally have time to bleach the bloodstains out of my favorite Giants sweatpants, tape over the name Smith on my soon-to-be anonymous No. 12 jersey that so lovingly reads “Steagles Smuck” on the front, and throw football shaped snowballs at the closest Revolutionary War reenactment with plenty of time to spare before kickoff.
Unfortunately, I don’t want that time. I want football on Sunday, on schedule, when it should be. Let’s lose the obvious ploy for money and get back to the game.
Actually I may have spoken too soon. I have to go explain to those guys chasing me that I mistook them for throwback Patriots fans; those muskets might be props, but the bayonets sure look sharp.
If there was football this Sunday, this never would’ve happened.