:) (Rant of an Elated and Exhausted Giants Fan #4)

Rich Seubert: Wow Tiki you are fucking pussy quitter bitch, how do you feel?

Wow. The most amazing and nerve racking experience of my life. Fuck the Pats. Fuck Bill Simmons. Fuck Bill Belicheck. Fuck Tom Brady. No more undefeated. No more Eli Manning garbage talk. That win was for all the Giants fans, all of New York, but much more importantly and this encompasses all of you, that win was for everyone who wanted to see the fucking empire go down.

I wish I had more insightful stuff to say and maybe at some point I will but I'll try to put some of my ideas out there. Eli Manning = greater than Big Ben. Eli Manning = no more pussy talk, no more anything talk because he was the only motherfucking quarterback who could beat the motherfucking evil Pats this whole year. Justin Tuck = monster. Spags = genius. I'm sure we're gonna lose him to the fucking Skins now, but honestly, Coughlin should retire and he should be head coach. Michael Strahan = you deserve to go out on top. Plaxico Burress = you don't show up and then you fucking torch them for the big 6. David Tyree = people are gonna know your name now son. Ahmad Bradshaw = one of the biggest plays in getting that fumble back. Kevin Boss = to quote Widukind: "Shockey who?" Tom Brady = I hope you end up with Gisele on the stage of Metal Skool. Tony Romo = homo.

Much love. I love you all. I love the Giants. I love New York. I might try to go down to the parade. I love all my boys for rooting for the Giants, no lie we couldn't have done it without all you guys supporting us tonight. For real I mean that. SUPER BOWL CHAMPS 2008 NEW YORK GIANTS BABY!!!

Out like Tom Brady, Bill Belicheck, perfection, and Tiki Motherfucking Pussy Barber.

Edit: The thing I want to get across most and I am just realizing it is that I am so happy for everyone. I am so so so happy for Eli Manning cause the New York media will never have anything to say against him again. I am so happy for David Tyree, the 4th wide receiver who gets no love and whose mother died. I am so happy for everyone else that's what feels best. I am so so happy.

The Scariest Thing of All... (Rant of a Nervous Giants Fan #1)

The last three weeks have been a sort of delirious dream for me that keeps on going. Every doubt I have had has been extinguished, and for the past three Sundays, I have looked at every game with no regrets. Every Giants win was gonna be a undeserved and unexpected piece of joy, while a loss would be an end to an already memorable season. Yet the strangest thing happened to me as Lawrence Tynes's 47 yard field goal landed between the two uprights in Green Bay. I began to hope and believe.

The last time the Giants made the Super Bowl was the 2000 season, which means on January 28th 2001, I was 11 years old and in sixth grade. I know I liked the Giants at that point, but my fandom had not became fanaticism or obsession at that point. Gradually over the next years I became more and more involved; I started watching the play-by-play of games online, I began to watch every televised performance they had in San Francisco, and then most recently, I purchased Sirius Radio with the sole intention of listening to the home broadcast of Giants games. However this year, unlike any other year of my life, I have gotten to watch the Giants on a consistent basis. I have watched every game this season except the beginning of the first Green Bay game in week 2, and the Vikings debacle, during which I was on a plane from San Francisco back to Boston. I also went to two regular season games and the game against Dallas, all three of which they won. And a funny thing has happened: I like this Giants team more than any other team that I have watched.

I feel almost vindicated by this team. The Giants season last year was such an outstanding debacle that they were at times difficult to root for. Players quit on the team, they quit on the season, and they quit on the coaching staff. Yet this year it all changed. Jerry Reese became general manager, we got rid of some old blood, we drafted incredibly, and quite possibly most importantly, we brought in Steve Spagnuolo, the man who I want to be the Head Coach of the future for the New York Giants.

And all of a sudden it all clicked. Eli Manning got on the same page with his receivers at the end of the year. Our defense became one of the elite units in the NFL courtesy of Spags, our rookies panned out and have been sick additions to our team (I am getting an Ahmad Bradshaw jersey, no questions asked), and slowly but surely we have marched our way through the regular season and the playoffs on the fuel of passion, team chemistry, and a us-against-the-world mentality.

And now I believe. And I am fucking frightened to. I could have taken a loss at GB, hell maybe even a loss to the Bucs. Dallas would have been hard cause I would have been there, but now I know if the Giants lose I will be despondent for some period of time. I keep having images of Tynes hitting a field goal to win it, Bradshaw busting out an epic long run to put the Giants up, Gostkowski missing a field goal reminiscent of Scott Norwood in 1990, Gibril knocking Moss out of the game as Tuck and Osi get after Brady. And I thought I was alone. Until this week's Sports Illustrated when the Giants were on the cover (one of the worst curses of all to be carrying) and that motherfucker Dr. Z picked the Giants for the exact reasons why I am scared to think they could win. I am already nervous and stressed. And there are 11 days to game time.

However, the thing I am scared of most of all is a promise that will most likely be broken. My Dad and I agreed a few years back that we would go to the Super Bowl if the Giants made it, never realizing (I mean who would) that they would be where they are right now. And with about 95% assuredness, we will not be at that game. And I am scared that the Giants will win, I will not be there, and I will have missed the greatest upset in Giants history. Yea this probably sounds selfish and whiny and complaining, but I keep having images of Tom Coughlin and Michael Strahan and Amani Toomer and Eli Manning talking into the camera of next year's America's Game, and thinking about what could have been. And whether or not I will ever see that again.

That being said. Go Giants.

(Expect more posts of these sorts as the Super Bowl approaches, I am sorry but that is all I got to post on right now. Much love)

The Dallas Minutes...

The night before I left for what ended up being one of the most memorable ideas of my life, I came up with the idea that I should copy Bill Simmons, which I admit I did in all aspects, to chronicle my trip to Dallas for the Giants-Cowboys game. Now I did my best to give pretty regular updates t give you some insight into my brain on one of the biggest and most emotional days of my life. (I know I stole this idea, but I figure this would tell the tale of the trip well.) I took notes in my phone, and here they are without edits.

5:26- Wake up. I haven't slept all night to begin with. My outfit for the biggest game in recent memory: Boxers, tufts shorts, tufts warm-ups, white T, red waffle weave, blue anything shirt, giants hoodie, white socks, New Balances, Giants beanie for good measure.
5:36- Departure for airport. No physiological problems yet to report. My dad thinks "waiting for the bus on a Sunday morning would be the worst thing in the world".
5:46- "Who flies on a Sunday"- Me
"Old People"- Dad
6:04- Arrived at the airport. Babies crying, long lines. First instance of chest pain.
6:29- I am in row 10. Good sign #1 on the day.
12:18- Dallas time. Slept the whole flight. Time to go. I didn't realize how annoying Texas accents were. It's like being around a million Jimmie Johnson's.
12:27- Check Chargers-Colts for the first time. Colts up 7-0 with Rivers throwing a pick. It was only a matter of time until Rivers and Turner played like, in the words of Warren Sapp: "gay porn". (I was sadly mistaken here).
12:42- I realize that I really enjoy being a fan in the opposition city. I mean I really enjoy it. There's no way to not be an asshole, so you better flaunt your support. I also think I had one of the members of the rap group Shop Boyz on my flight.
12:55- Second instance of bodily pain coming from the ballpark of my appendix.
1:28- Tommy (a 40 yr. old man), one of our entourage, calls "shotgun".
1:33- We're making fun of Arizona for not celebrating MLK Day.
1:40- We're 2 1/2 miles from President George Bush Highway. Texas for Texans!
2:06- A plane passes over head. It reads: "Good luck Tony. Love, Jessica". You gotta love Giants games.
2:22- A women walks up to our car to ask where she can pee (despite traffic). Mayhem ensues.
2:30- We have been in traffic almost an hour. We will not be seeing kickoff. Dallas sucks. (We made it to kickoff)
2:34- If we're lucky we'll be there by the 3rd quarter.
2:49- We're playing football in the grass (while in traffic). Except the grass is like fucking cacti. Everything's better in Dallas.
3:00- 30 minutes to game time. The chest pain has officially started.
3:30- "I've never been so nervous in my life"- text to Michael.
3:47- Kickoff. I have consumed 6 beers and 1 hot dog all day. The chicks scream loudest in Dallas.
3:56- Giants 7-0. Cowboys fans starts talking about the boys being in the same night as the Pats last night. I kindly remind him the Cowboys lost to the Pats. Asshole.
4:14- Bradshaw is officially my favorite Giant. Feagles pins them. We're surrounded my drunk Giants fans.
4:18- I can't stand Marion Barber.
4:23- Girls in Texas try hard to look good.
4:29- I fucking knew they were throwing a fade. That TD is all on Spags.
4:57- Cowboys driving hard again. I'm down in the dumps. We can't stop them if our life depended on it.
5:04- 14-7 Cowboys. Fuck. I feel like I'm gonna throw up and/or die.
5:15- Wow Eli wow. I'm scared to write.
5:43- We hold them to a FG. That's a minor victory.
5:55- Punt. I'm really starting to worry.
6:09- I will let Ahmad Bradshaw have sex with my wife on our honeymoon. I'm very buzzed.
6:23- I do not like Brandon Jacobs.
6:35- You could cut the tension with a knife (cliche I know).
6:41- Best sporting event of my life. I'm hooked on playoff sports.
6:45- I'm having a coronary. I wish you guys could feel this.
6:52- I don't believe it. I love you all.

Out like (fill in all 28 other teams here).

Widukinds Diary Entry #5: Boston Fans Need to Shut the Fuck Up Already...

I apologize for the lack of posts, but I've been so damn busy this past week I simply haven't had time. But honestly, I'm fucking sick of this fucking shit. This is prompted by a lot of stuff I've been reading and hearing over the past few weeks. So here's a memo from me to Boston:

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

We all know how great Boston sports are doing. I just wrote a sentence outlining the situation, but then I said to myself, "You know what, fuck this fucking shit."
If you don't know what's going on in Boston, I want to come live with you. My only issue with that solution is that plane tickets to FUCKING NAMIBIA are expensive as shit.
I thought the bragging and shit-talking and celebrating was annoying; now you're gonna feed me this unbelievable, diarrhea-barf-inducing SHIT about how you miss the good ol' days of losing? You know what? Fuck you, asshole.
In terms of the Red Sox, I would first like to point out how everyone seems to forget the Cubs haven't won a World Series in a long time too. Oh my god, I literally just thought to myself what the reaction would have been if it was Manny Ramirez who Steve Bartman fucked up, and at Fenway not Wrigley. Books would be written. Talk shows would be wasted. ESPN would devote 5 minutes to that highlight every show. For 10 years. Ew.
Second of all (still on the Red Sox here), you actually don't know what it's like to not win a World Series for 86 years. Sorry... asshole. Given that most true fans don't develop until say, 8 years of age(this is a lenient estimate), that would mean you would have been 94 years old in 2004. Take out the percentage of 94 year olds who are lying in bed drooling and pooping their pants 8 times a day (this suggests that they can't remember 1918 anyways, obviously) that's not alot of people left alive. Not to mention the percentage of the people who still are functional at 94 who are actually Sox fans.
Third of all, the Red Sox have been a very good baseball team for sometime now, so all you teenagers can shut the fuck up too about how painful it was to lose so much.

Stupid Boston Fan #1: "Oh but the Patriots were really bad for a long time. I know how it feels."
Stupid Boston Fan #2: "I miss when all us Red Sox fans wallowed together in our own despair."
Stupid Boston Fan #3: "The Celtic have been soooooooo pathetic! OMFG I eat semen!"

No, how about you shut the fuck up. Statements like these prove you have no idea what you're talking about. I don't buy the crap one bit about Boston fans missing losing; this to me is so much more obnoxious than any gloating I can imagine. I didn't read Bill Simmons 5 years ago, but I can (almost) guarantee you he never wrote a goddam column about how awesome it was that the Red Sox kept blowing it and he could bond with his fellow brewskie-drinking asshole friends. Winning is awesome. Winning is fun. Winning > Losing. Clearly Bostonians don't get algebra.

I've come to realize that true fans of sport acknowledge the diminished value of winning a championship. There's one every year; if it's not ours, then there's always next season. If our team does win, the buildup to the next season is exactly the same. We live with our teams, claim that their offseason signings and trades are utter genius, and still cheer them on when they turn out to be really sucky and have lost 8 games in a row and are starting Trent Dilfer.

If you have yet to catch on, I wouldn't be writing this if Bay Area sports hadn't reached their utmost suckfuckiness since...4 BCE (the Ohlone were apparently sick at corn-chucking). This is serving as a pact to myself when in 5 years Bay Area sports reign supreme, and we are all treated like gods and served those platters with grapes on them and have lots of concubines, I will NEVER, EVER, NEVERFUCKING EVER, reminisce to November, 2007, and say, "You know, those were the good ol' days."

Out like me from the Dirty in 24 hours.