The shield is made of a vibranium/adamantium alloy. That's why it's indestructible. Who's that other guy?
Just kidding. That's Phil Simms. But still, I was raised watching and cheering for the Giants, even when they sucked. Actually, that's most of the time, but man, am I happy now.
Even so, there was a time when I watched and rooted for another team.
Oach has made it very clear that he doesn't want me to use this team's name in this post, as it is painful to him. I'll honor his request, and leave it to your brilliant detective skills, dear reader, to figure out.
The period of time I referred to before that last aside was during my undergrad years. (CLUE) I went to college 20 minutes south of Rochester, NY. For three out of four years I lived with Oach, who is from Rochester. Two out of four years we lived with two other gentlemen who hailed from western New York. And so when Sundays in football season rolled around, it was not the Giants who were regularly televised. It was this other team. And I had a good time. We cheered and laughed and cried and swore. We went to two games at (CLUE) Ralph Wilson Stadium in the middle of December, and froze our way through the tailgating drunk we had built up.
So when I learned that this team would be playing the Monday Night Football game, and that there was a bar in Manhattan that catered to fans of this team, and that Oach and Eddie McG would be there, I decided I should be involved for old times' sake. The bar is McFadden's. Outside, it looks like this:
Inside, it looked more like this:
Again, I'm not allowed to name the team.
There was a special going during the game. Twenty dollars gets you a bracelet and unlimited beer and (CLUE) a certain type of Chicken Wing of which I am incredibly fond.
Hint: they're named after a city.
Every ten minutes or so, these pans would be replenished. For the record, they are the best wings I have yet found in New York City. A little heavy on the butter, perhaps, but that didn't stop me from eating at least twenty dollars worth. A better deal I've yet to find. And you know you're dealing with a serious establishment when they feel it necessary to have on hand a bucket of Blue Cheese.
Whatever you do, do not picture yourself chugging this Blue Cheese.
The beer was low quality, but plentiful, and the bar staff quick to respond to orders with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of plastic cups.
Speaking of cups, the bar staff was also nice enough to dance on the Bar during halftime:
At least I'm pretty sure she was part of the staff.
It was also noteworthy for the film crew from the NFL network who were getting some footage for an upcoming show. Here's the host that they had, waiting patiently for a take.
So good food, plentiful drink, disreputable associates, sounds like the beginning of a fantastic evening, right? If you believe that, then clearly you haven't yet figured out which team I'm talking about.
I have to admire the resilience of these fans. They take beating after beating and come back for more. They're like Timex watches, or Rocky, or the French.
Hmmm... Rocky vs a Mime. I would pay to see that.
But Damn, I had forgotten how painful it is to root for these bastards. They don't lose the easy way. They might have the decency to get blown out early, and take some of the suspense off, so fans can grumble and make sarcastic remarks but then enjoy the beer and wings. But no, they have to play just well enough to stay in contention the entire time and blow it all at the last second.
Here we see Oach, with optimism and hope in his heart. He's willing to dream. Hours after this picture was taken, he was reduced to a profane, miserable shell of a human being. It's a cruel, twisted joke that his team plays on him every week.
To get a good sense of what it feels like to try and root for this team, watch this video that I found on youtube. I feel it adequately sums up the experience.
yup, that's it.