Congratulations to the New Orleans Saints for winning the Super Bowl. Surely people are celebrating the victory in fairly tame fashion down there in the Big Easy.
Yes, good for New Orleans. The franchise wins its first Super Bowl. And in the wake of the recent flooding and destruction there, the Saints had sort of become "America's Team," replacing the Dallas Cowboys, as millions of football fans and Americans rooted for something positive to happen for this city.
Not that I was rooting for them. Or for the Colts, either. Well, maybe. But I mostly didn't care. I would have rather seen the Colts playing the Vikings, or the Saints playing the Jets. Then I could have rooted for either one. But Colts vs. Saints didn't do a lot for me. I did enjoy the game, though, and am happy for the Saints after their win.
But they must have realized at half-time they were outmatched and had no shot of winning. They were the little upstart team nobody gave a chance to win. The Colts were better. The Colts knew it. The Saints knew it. Everyone knew it. Duh!
And being thus outclassed on the field, they had to resort to trickery. That is, you know, what inferior teams do when they know they can't win. Teams who have no business being there in the first place. They run trick plays. Plays you don't see very often, gimmicks, misdirection, deception. They don't play straight up football.
An on-side kick? Are you serious? Come on, Saints! Just line up and see who is better, faster, stronger. None of these gimmick and gadget plays. It's just a desperate way to change the momentum of the game against a better team.
The Colts don't use misdirection and deception. Peyton Manning is terrible at disguising what play they are running, and he is simply awful at the play-action pass.
So, congratulations again, Saints. Enjoy the victory. Too bad it was a fluke, though, and you could never beat them again.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Recycled
This happened when he was four years old.
MLB and I were making dinner when our youngest son came in the kitchen and got the egg slicer out of the drawer and started playing with it. The game was to open and close it rapidly and repeatedly.
"Dearest son of mine!" I exclaimed. "It is my greatest wish that you stop playing with that!"
It may indeed be possible that I was neither that tender nor that polite in this request. The words "Hey!" and "Don't!" probably found themselves uttered, if the truth must be known. But I did not want him to hurt himself (or damage the device).
In any case, he did not like what he had heard, so he put the egg slicer back and slammed the drawer shut. And he stormed out of the kitchen into the other room, but stopped and turned around so he could stand there and glare at me.
"Just trying to make sure you are safe, buddy!" I said this as I returned to help with dinner again, but I could tell by the scowl on his face that he was not done with me yet.
Nearly three minutes passed before I looked up from what I was doing to glance in the other room again. He was still there and had evidently thought of what he wanted to say before running out:
"You have a fat tummy!"
MLB and I were making dinner when our youngest son came in the kitchen and got the egg slicer out of the drawer and started playing with it. The game was to open and close it rapidly and repeatedly.
"Dearest son of mine!" I exclaimed. "It is my greatest wish that you stop playing with that!"
It may indeed be possible that I was neither that tender nor that polite in this request. The words "Hey!" and "Don't!" probably found themselves uttered, if the truth must be known. But I did not want him to hurt himself (or damage the device).
In any case, he did not like what he had heard, so he put the egg slicer back and slammed the drawer shut. And he stormed out of the kitchen into the other room, but stopped and turned around so he could stand there and glare at me.
"Just trying to make sure you are safe, buddy!" I said this as I returned to help with dinner again, but I could tell by the scowl on his face that he was not done with me yet.
Nearly three minutes passed before I looked up from what I was doing to glance in the other room again. He was still there and had evidently thought of what he wanted to say before running out:
"You have a fat tummy!"
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