18-1, or the night that eli freaking manning became a legend

when eli got out of that sure, certain, heartbreaking sack (they had his jersey) with about 60 seconds left on the game clock and suddenly, instead, tyree was catching the ball with his helmet, that's when i started saying it out loud: "they are going to win this game." then plaxico caught the ball in the end zone with thirty seconds left in the game and i kept saying it: "they're going to fucking win."

but there was still that 30 seconds left, and no one wanted me to say this out loud. i mean, it was brady on the other side of the ball! who'd looked like rex grossman all freaking night but theoretically, that was tom brady and randy moss (who has never played well in a post-season, this one no different than the others). don't jinx the game!

no one should've worried, it was already jinxed.

"We're only going to score 17 points?" a surprised Brady said Wednesday. "OK. Is Plax playing defense?"

only 14 points actually, sorry. nice try, blanco nino. too bad your ass got sacked. i would've been delighted for any team--ANY team--to have put this balding latenightshots.com excuse for a douchebag in his place, but the fact that it was the giants just made it all the more amazing. no one told the giants that brady and co. were already the anointed winners. they outplayed the pats in every possible aspect you can come up with, from their performance at media day to the last second of the game. i've never seen a more exciting super bowl, and i doubt i ever will.

i stayed up all night drinking and freaking out and wondering if i somehow imagined that game. i wonder if belichick stayed up all night pondering that inexplicable 4th-and-13 call he made.