Here we go again: The Patriots are great.
Flawless. Undefeated. Perfect.
Then why is it that Bill Belichick had to resort to espionage and point stacking to prove his team's dominance? And why did the stigma that should have followed them through the "greatest season ever" disappear?
I will admit that they played well this season, but so did Shoeless Joe Jackson in the 1919 World Series. Rules are rules.
Drug scandals, personal behavior issues, and criminal activities are tainting the world of professional sports. Young children idolize professional athletes, and lately, there have been way too many negative influences in sports.
What a great story. Back-up quarterback Billy Volek leads the underdog Chargers to the Super Bowl (perhaps to face the quarterback who might have been?) That would be an upset for the ages, and one I would love to witness. Watching Bill Belichick sulk off to the locker room would almost make his weekly (slight exaggeration) appearances on the cover of Sports Illustrated tolerable.
But fear not. If the Chargers have no rabbit in their helmets, the season can still be saved. How, you may ask?
There are two types of players in the NFL: The first type forgot how much they loved the game when they received their college scholarships; football just became their ticket to fame and fortune. They play well and succeed, but it's all about the show. They hop from team to team, searching for the most money or the best record. The Pats have quite a few of these players.
The second type, however, just love to play. They give it their all, every practice, every down. They usually make a career in one town, on one team. They're the players who stay late at training camp signing autographs, and they'll probably come to your banquet to speak if they're available.
For those of us who love the whole "good versus evil" story line, there is a good chance that Mr. Type Two could be in the Super Bowl this year. Who is this hero on a white steed? (Really? You don't know?)
Two words: Brett Favre. Yeah, baby.
Nothing says wholesome Americana like a thirty-eight year old professional athlete running around in circles, hopping, skipping, laughing, and crying. He's had his own struggles, but he's been honest about them. He is the positive role model you want for your budding NFL star.
This guy loves football. Because it's a game. If you love the game, you can't help loving Brett Favre. How fitting that it could rest on his shoulders to right the negative images suffered by the league this season. He's had a good year, and he plays best under pressure.
Superman always beats the forces of evil. So, we just need him to beat the Giants. He MUST beat the Giants. He deserves another ring. We deserve loyalty, hard work, and good old-fashioned love of the game to persevere.
The NFL needs this season to finish with the picture of Brett Favre–tears in his eyes, arms raised over his head in victory, running amok all over University of Phoenix Stadium–imbedded in our memories.
Then, all will be right with the world.