Wow.

HE CAUGHT IT WITH HIS HEAD!

That was all I could keep chanting after David Tyree made a ... a... 'circus catch' just doesn't do it justice. No words that I can think of really do it justice. All I can say is that it will almost certainly unseat Dwight Clark's as the most clutch catch in NFL Playoff history. It was one of those catches that would be up for an ESPY even if it occurred in the third quarter of a regular season blow-out.

It was destined to happen though. You could just feel it. It was the same feeling earlier this season when the Patriots eeked by the Ravens. It was that game, you'll recall, where the Ravens held a late game lead and had seemingly stopped the Patriots on 4th down to secure a victory, only to have they play nullified by a time out that their coaches had called just before the ball was snapped. Another 4th down stop was negated by a false start (one of the very few times a false start was beneficial to the offense), and a foolish Defensive Holding penalty kept New England's drive alive. It all added up to what Tony Kornheiser called a 'tragic inevitability'. New England was destined to win that game, and they did.

The same thing unfolded tonight. After Randy Moss put the Patriots up with just over 2 and a half minutes to play, the Giants seemed to get those little breaks... the fourth down conversion... Asante Samuel's feet coming down out of bounds with what would have been a game sealing interception... And then, that... play. I'm sure someone will have a patented nickname for it by tomorrow... 'The Play' is a LITTLE too grandiose, as is 'The Miracle', but whatever they call it... 'it' happened. Even though the Giants were still 25 yards out, it was inevitable that they would win. It was just a matter of how.

Take This Lei and...

Wow. Go to http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/index today and look at the map associated with the poll about whether you'd vote Roger Clemens into the Hall of Fame. Maybe it's early in the day, but there are five states that vote "no": New Hampshire, West Virginia, Utah, Nebraska, and Hawaii (Wyoming is split 50-50). What an odd assortment of states. Hawaii voted 100% no (as of the time of this posting). What did Roger ever do to the Hawaiians?

Fly, Eagles, Fly

After playing the Patriots closer than any other team this year (I think the Colts lost by four), there's a quarterback controversy in Philly! No, not really. Here's the thing, though. The Eagles seem to have a tendency to light up and do well when McNabb is on the bench. Would anyone say that A.J. Feeley is a better QB? Or Jeff Garcia even? Taken by themselves, no. On this Eagles team, well, um... I'm gonna have to go with 'maybe.'

What it feels like to me is that McNabb is so talented that when he's in the game, two things happen. First of all, he feels like he has to carry the team, like he has to be the guy who delivers the win. Second of all, the coaches feel like they have this major talent out on the field, and they have to let him play his game. When you've got A.J. or Garcia out there, the coaches run a good mix of plays, the defense usually steps up, everybody chips in. It actually looks, at times like that, as though the Eagles have a good team and a good coaching staff.

So the QB controversy that should be brewing in Philly is not whether to start Donovan or not. The controversy should be whether to give Donovan the same mix of plays you give Feeley and Garcia, or that you'd give any QB if you didn't think they had Awesome Talent. Because I think McNabb could've played that game last night as wel as Feeley did, plus maybe he doesn't throw that last interception into the end zone (which I think was when Feeley tried to Make Something Happen as opposed to just taking what the defense gave him, or maybe it was the coaches hoping to take New England by surprise, in which case they are idiots because everyone knows you cannot surprise Bill Belichick, who has a Gray's Sports Almanac from the year 2015 locked in a safe in his office in Gillette Field, and he's just waiting for the day when a kid or a crazy old man comes to ask him about it...).

All that aside: great game, Eagles. If there is such a thing as a moral victory in football, going into the 2007 Patriots' house and having a chance to win with a minute left in the game certainly counts.

BSPN

"Welcome to SportsCenter. I'm Rich Eisen with Steve Levy. Tonight we'll take a look at the Boston Celtics. Just how good can they be? Could they be the best team in basketball? Maybe the best team of the last twenty years?"

"And we'll look back on the World Champion Boston Red Sox and what each of the players on that team is up to. Could they win five more championships before all is said and done? Or is it more likely eight?"

"But we start with a look at the New England Patriots. Here, just look at some photos. My God, they're manly. Oh, sorry, Steve, I'm drooling on the desk."

"That's okay, Rich. I was lost in admiring Tom Brady's throwing motion and didn't notice."

"It is gorgeous, isn't it?"

"And just look at Randy Moss jump."

*silence*

"Wow."

"I don't think there is any question, this could be the greatest team in the history of organized athletics."

"Steve, I wouldn't be surprised to see them challenge UCLA's record 88 consecutive wins."

"I agree, Rich."

"In other news, there are some teams outside the Boston area playing, as we can see from the shot of the scoreboard behind Kevin Garnett's head. We'll freeze the frame for a second so you can look at the scores, then we'll have ten more minutes of Celtics coverage followed by Lee Corso asking whether Boston College can get back in the BCS race."

*commercial for some mobile phone featuring Peyton Manning*

It's Not Easy Seeing Green

In 1996, Freelancer and I went to a Target store somewhere way off the beaten path to see Kevin Garnett in person. The line stretched halfway around the store by the time we got there, which was fairly late, but we got our stuff signed (a photo for Freelancer, media guide for me--I still have it). We'd seen the Wolves earlier that year, and Freelancer, who has forgotten more about basketball than I know, said, "That kid can play." Seeing him in person, up close, was weird in the same way it's weird to see any professional basketball player up close. They just seem to be built on a different scale (I once saw David Robinson in an airport--same deal. You never ask "is that a basketball player?" You ask "which basketball player is that?").

Garnett was huge, not only in person but for the state of Minnesota. He became, like Kirby Puckett, the face of a franchise. When he went silent the summer of the salary negotiation that would soon change the collective bargaining agreement, the state held its breath. He wasn't committing to staying, but he wasn't signaling his departure, either. It felt difficult to get at the truth: he was a 21-year-old kid, still, who was doing the best thing a kid can do in that situation. He was letting the professional he'd hired to represent him do just that.

The huge contract he signed was worth it. I was living in Minnesota when Kirby Puckett entered free agency for the last time, and the suspense was similar, the relief even more pronounced this time, because while Puckett was just sliding off the edge of his prime, Garnett had yet to reach his, and this was a guarantee that it would be spent in Minnesota.

Sadly, it became clear after several years that "wasted" might be a better word than "spent." Apart from one run to the Western Conference Finals, the Wolves got to the level of "first-round playoff team" and stayed there. Things deteriorated, but Garnett was always the face of the Timberwolves. I don't think it's possible for anyone who hasn't lived in Minnesota to realize how much he represented that franchise. He carried them for years, overcoming McHale and Taylor's borderline-incompetent management until recently.

I discovered about a month ago that I can't watch him in Celtics green. It's a painful reminder of what the Wolves could have been, what they gave up, what they are now. Maybe I'll get over it later this year, but right now, it just seems wrong, like the hue is wonky, and I need to adjust a dial on my set to get that uniform back to blue or black. It's not that I hate the Celtics or anything; just seeing Garnett in a different uniform hurts. I don't begrudge him the chance to go somewhere where he has a chance to be winning a title, nor to start over with new management. I'll be rooting for him to get that ring someday, somewhere. But I won't be watching.

Four and Out

You may have heard something about an unlikely team winning the NL pennant and electrifying a city. I can't add a lot from the baseball side, but a couple of us did have the good fortune to attend last night's NL pennant-clinching game, so I thought I'd recount a bit of the experience.

When we got the tickets to the fourth game, it was more because Monday worked better in our schedule than Sunday did--driving out from California to see family, the trip planned well in advance of the playoffs, we only started thinking toward the end of the season, "You know...if the Rockies beat the Phillies...nah, don't say it." And when it turned out there'd be a game coinciding with our visit, we grabbed some tickets online from a long-suffering Cubs fan who'd succumbed to a rare bout of optimism (thanks, Gus!).

After the Rockies' first win in Arizona, we thought, "you know, we might...don't say it, don't say it!" Then on the way out, we sat in a bar in Vail watching them win in extra innings in Arizona. Sunday night in Colorado Springs we were glad we weren't in the freezing rain, even though Torrealba's homer would have been an amazing moment to see. By the time Monday rolled around, it seemed almost inevitable that we would see the pennant-clinching game, the Rockies' first World Series appearance just 27 outs away against a team that had managed only four runs in three games.

We arrived in downtown Denver to see people selling brooms on every corner. Our non-sports-following friends who'd met us for dinner thought, because of this, that the Arizona team was called the "Dust Devils." We explained that they were the "Diamondbacks" and the brooms were because you kill snakes with brooms. Then we actually explained the "sweep" thing. They liked the snake-killing explanation better, and frankly, so did we. Not wanting to jinx the team, we opted not to buy a broom, amusing our friends with the power we felt we had over the team's fate.

After dinner, as we got closer to the stadium, we found people distinguishing their brooms by painting them in Rockies colors. The atmosphere was crazy, people hooting and cheering before the game even started. We found Mark's sister, brother-in-law, and friend, rounding out our group, and proceeded into the stadium.

We'd visited Coors Field in June, when the Rockies were struggling along toward what looked like another .500-ish season, flirting with the wild card. The upper decks in June were sparsely populated, especially with the light rain falling. Last night, of course, every section was packed. Our seats (sec. 303) were in the very top row behind right center field, but the weather this night was perfect October baseball weather: cool, clear, crisp, with a light breeze.

I've been to a few playoff games in baseball and basketball: the Timberwolves' second playoff game in history (loss to the Rockets), and a Twins playoff game in Oakland (their only loss of the series). The energy in a playoff game crowd is a level above a regular game--it's not unusual for chants to go on through the whole game. This one was even more enthusiastic than the Oakland game, because the crowd knew that the pennant was possible. Chants of "Let's go Rockies" came up at least once an inning, late in the game one side of the stadium started to chant, "GO!" and our side responded, "ROCKIES!" Matt Holliday got "M.V.P.!" chants every time he came up. Being a Phillies fan (yes, rooting for the Rockies--besides the family connections, my credo is, if you beat my team, you damn well better win it all so I can say we got beaten by the best), I couldn't let down Jimmy Rollins by joining in to that one--until Holliday popped that homer to dead center in the fourth. After that, I just told myself, "Well, it's for M.V.P. of the series..." Fan favorite rookie SS Troy Tulowitzki got the British football clap, with "TU-LO!" at the end. And of course, every time Eric "we've outplayed them" Byrnes came to the plate, he was greeted by loud and lusty boos (we were saying "Boo-urns").

The fourth inning was incredible. We were a little surprised that Hurdle pulled the pitcher so early, but Morales had been struggling and the priority at that point was clearly to keep the rally going. Seth Smith delivered, in spades. His bloop seemed to hang in the air forever, the crowd trying to help gravity with screams of "DROP! DROP! DROP!" And drop it did, just inside the foul line. And if we thought that was exciting, three batters later, Matt Holliday smacked a ball that was by no means a no-doubt-about-it from our angle. It hung in the air over center field while we jumped and yelled, opposing gravity this time, and then dropped out of our sight toward the center field fence. A second later, even people down in Colorado Springs heard the cheers as it landed 452 feet from home plate, scoring three more runs that would prove to be the difference in the game.

The energy subsided a bit after that, but being in the top row, we didn't sit down for the whole game. One man came backing up the stairs, eyes riveted on the field as he tried not to spill his beer and cup of fries. In the mid-to-late innings of a regular season game, people get tired, the stadium quiets down, and we usually take that time to do a walk around the stadium. Not last night. Top of the sixth, we started counting down the outs. 12...11...10. 9...8...7. Every strike cheered as though it were an out, every out cheered like a regular-season win. 6...5...4...4...4... Even when it got dicey in the eighth, a three-run home run almost equaling Arizona's entire offensive output in the first three games that brought the game back within reach for them, we kept faith. We knew intellectually that Arizona could come back, could take this game and maybe the next, but emotionally we felt it: there was no way. Fuentes went out, Corpas came in, and there were three outs to go.

Then two. Then a double, just to make things interesting. Then one. How fitting it was that Eric "they're just lucky" Byrnes should make the final out, a grounder to Tulo, who rifled it to Rockies legend Todd Helton. Pandemonium. We knew it was going to happen, and yet the actual moment still exploded in the stadium like the fireworks that seemed to go on forever, the "National League Champions" graphic repeating over and over on the screen as though it couldn't quite believe itself either. We kept yelling, cheering, trying to express the incredible elation of the moment.

Yes, I'm not a die-hard Rockies fan (note the dorky look in the above picture). I don't have years following the team. This victory probably meant more to just about everyone else in the stadium. But it's impossible to be in that crowd and not soak up some of the dizzying joy of it all, the giddy heights of we did it! Because no matter who you are, you're welcome to be a part of it. I high-fived more drunk people last night than I have since college. Several times, walking through the stadium after the celebration (which was full of awesome as well, seeing the stand set up and the trophy actually right there on the field), I met someone's eye and we'd both just grin for a moment and shake our heads, thinking the same thing: I can't believe this, how great is this moment.

I can't say enough about the city and its fans. Rockies banners on the state capital building. "Go Rockies" on every other LCD sign along the highway. The only thing I've seen comparable to it was the love for the Pacers, back in the 90s when I visited Indianapolis during the NBA playoffs. Whether they win the Series or not, these fans deserve their NL pennant, and, what's more, they appreciate it.

As we walked around after the game, there seemed to be a fan stationed on every corner getting cars to honk. Security guards drifted discreetly through the streets, but there was no need for them. No rioting for their first World Series here in Denver, just screaming, honking, cheering, more high-fiving. We walked around for a while soaking it in, and when we finally stopped in a bar to warm up, the bartender gave me my non-alcoholic drink on the house. "Go Rockies," he said, indicating our brand-new "NL Champions" hats. "You know we're goin' to the World Series??"

We grinned back. "Yeah," we said, "We think we mighta heard something about that."

An Idea

Okay, this might not be 100% appropriate for this blog, but I dunno where else to put it. I don't really follow the ever-changing world of MMOs all that much, but I was intrigued recently when I read about a Flight Simulator community that has grown up around allowing people to play at being air traffic controllers for all the people flying simulated planes. In other words, there are people who voluntarily simulate what is supposed to be one of the top five jobs that comes up when you cross-index "tedious" and "stressful." (I assume that part of the attraction is that the virtual plane crashes are much less stressful than the real ones.)

On the heels of that comes today's Penny Arcade article in which a noted game designer imagines an MMO based on industrial construction, and does a pretty darn good job of it. Which got me to thinking that people are probably willing to do virtually (ha) anything they would do in the real world as an MMO.

So why not play sports? Not just the current incarnation where you take your teams and design plays and control a couple key players, but really...get into the world of sports. Be a player, control your exercise and diet, learn your plays, and get ready for the big game. Be a coach, plan strategies and develop a playbook with signals that you have to teach your players. Be a GM, be an owner, and instead of buying Alex Rodriguez or Randy Moss, go get the services of actual people. Join some friends to run a team, band some teams together to form a league, and let there be as many leagues as necessary. Games take place whenever teams can schedule them conveniently. You could even be a referee or an ump!

I mean, come on. If you're going to take a real-world activity and make it virtual, at least make it something fun, hm?