Super Bowl XLII: The Game That Shall Not Be Named

The Patriot players aren't the only ones who want revenge for Super Bowl XLII.

A few days before Super Bowl XLII, I left Boston and went down to New York to watch the game. It wasn’t a hard decision. If the Giants won, I wanted to celebrate with Giants fans. And if the Giants lost, I definitely didn't want to watch the Patriots fans celebrate. After Tom Brady's final desperation heave to Randy Moss fell harmlessly to the ground, I hugged my father and caught a cab into the city to join my friends at a bar.  As ESPN played the highlights on a loop, the crowd reacted to the replays of David Tyree’s catch and Plaxico Burress’ touchdown as if they were happening live. The victory parade on Tuesday was pure euphoria. The city was jumping with joy.

I returned to Boston the next day to an unsurprisingly somber atmosphere. I expected some jeers from my coworkers about the game, but instead received a few muttered congratulations and a few more glares that warned "don't you dare mention what happened on Sunday." Thanks to a bet he made with me, my boss purchased an Eli Manning Fathead and put it on the back of his office door, where it was supposed to stay until the start of the next NFL season.  Twenty minutes later, we pulled it down because our CEO, a Patriots season ticket holder, deemed it “unprofessional.”

That was as great of a reaction to Super Bowl XLII as I saw in Boston. No lamentations about the loss. No mention about how it was still a great season for a team that won 18 straight games.  No speculation on who to take in the upcoming draft.  Not a word. If you didn’t know any better, it was as if the game hadn’t been played at all. The entire region had suffered collective selective amnesia. Super Bowl XLII had become The Game That Shall Not Be Named.

Three months later, on an evening in May, I was sitting in a popular barber shop.  The topic of the day was the Celtics, who had just blown a 2-0 series lead in the first round of the playoffs after having the best record in the NBA during the regular season.  My barber was making a point that was quickly turning into a rant:

“They should be ashamed of themselves! I don’t care if it’s the Atlanta Hawks, you have to bring your best to every game! They’ve got no heart! Best team in the league in the regular season, but then they choke in the playoffs! THEY’RE JUST LIKE THE PATRIOTS!"

The shop went silent, as if my barber had just spoken the name of a dead relative. I expected someone to quickly change the subject.

Instead, over my shoulder, another barber meekly uttered:

“No way, the Patriots had a much better season.”

The floodgates burst open.

"What are you talking about? They lost in the championship!”

“They would’ve won if Asante Samuel could just catch that freakin’ interception!”

“Or if Rodney Harrison could knock down a pass!”

“Don’t blame Harrison, the guy caught it with his helmet!”

“They were cocky! They didn’t take the Giants seriously!”

“After that Moss touchdown, they celebrated like the game was already over!”

“The defense hid behind the offense all season. Then when we finally needed them to step up, they choked!”

“I don’t want to go undefeated next year! It’s too much pressure! I hope they lose before they make the playoffs!”

“His helmet! His goddamned helmet!”

It went on like that for a while. They didn’t know that I was a Giants fan, and I wasn’t about to tell them. After three months of silence, I was witnessing a cathartic release of the pain that Super Bowl XLII had brought to the New England fans. Now, it was my turn to be quiet.

Before this year’s Championship Sunday games, I took an informal poll of my coworkers and friends to see if they’d rather face the 49ers or the Giants in the Super Bowl.  Every one of them picked the Giants. Some said it was because they thought the 49ers would be a tougher matchup, but most said it was for the chance to atone for Super Bowl XLII. Only seven Patriots remain from that doomed 2007 squad, but this chance for revenge is about the fans as much as it is about Belichick and Brady.    

The 2007 Giants gave New Yorkers a reason to always believe in their team. The 2007 Patriots gave New Englanders a literally unspeakable heartache. A win next Sunday can’t erase that pain, but it can alleviate it just a little. Patriots fans desperately need their team to beat the Giants in Super Bowl XLVI, not just for this year, but for four years ago. And if they don't, it’s going to be awfully quiet around here.

Want to talk football?  Follow me on Twitter at @BostonGiant.

Have a suggestion for an article?  Email me at eternalsunshinepete@gmail.com.

Image found here.