Super Bowl XLVI: Behind Enemy Lines

Me before kickoff of Super Bowl XLVI. The calm before the storm.

One...two...three...four...five...six. When I got to the sixth row of the corner mezzanine of Lucas Oil Stadium, the one between the New England sideline and the Patriots end zone, I was greeted by a large man in a Rob Gronkowski jersey.

"I don't think these are your seats."

I chuckled, assuming that he was just giving me a hard time. But he didn't smile, and instead repeated himself.

"Seriously, you shouldn't be here."

I looked up, and quickly realized what he was talking about. Brady. Welker. Mankins. Mayo. Every jersey read the name of a Patriot. Somehow, for the biggest (and most expensive) sporting event of my life, I was surrounded by the enemy.

Giants fans dominated the crowds entering the stadium, but not our section.

After I sat down, I combed the rows around us. In a section of 200 people, my friend Omer and I were the only two Giant fans. The New Englanders interrogated us, more out of curiosity than malice. They were all Patriots club season ticket holders, and the team had reserved this entire section for them. They all signed waivers swearing that they wouldn't sell their seats. How had two Giant fans infiltrated their section? I explained that we'd gotten our tickets from a friend that works for the Celtics, which seemed to be a good enough alibi for them. "Believe me, I don't want to be here as much as you don't want me here," I said.

As uncomfortable as it was at first, we quickly established a rapport with the New Englanders around us. I've been to enough road games to learn that if you look a guy in the eyes and joke with him before kickoff, he's less likely to punch you at halftime. Besides, most fans aren't going to risk getting kicked out of a game that they paid $950 to attend.

My ties to Boston helped as well. It turned out that the fan next to me was a fellow Boston College alum and the woman behind us lived in Norwood, near the candlepin lanes that hosted my Tuesday night bowling league. Despite the dicey start, we quickly settled into our seats for a long and emotional four hour roller coaster.

Walking into battle.

The first big moment came on the Giants' safety. I started waving for a flag as soon as the pass landed. The Patriot fans were irate because no one is used to seeing an intentional grounding in the deep middle of the field. But with Justin Tuck in his face and no receiver within 20 yards of the pass, Tom Brady's throw was just as illegal as if he'd sailed it into the stands.

When the Giants scored a touchdown on the ensuing possession, Omer pointed out that New York had a 9-0 lead before Brady had touched the ball twice. The fans around us were irate that their defense looked so discombobulated on the drive, with a critical 12 men on the field penalty and multiple other plays where the secondary was confused. It was very un-Belichick-ian of the usually disciplined team, but it wouldn't be the last time that their Hall of Fame coach looked overwhelmed in this game.

What's fascinating about the Super Bowl is that everything during the weekend seemed larger than life, except the game itself. The TV timeouts were longer, the halftime show was flashier and the ceremonies were more pompous (seriously, do we need 80 people at midfield for the coin toss?), but once the players lined up, you forgot that over 100 million people were peering into the building.

The Giants were the better team in the first half, but only led 9-3 when the Patriots got the ball back with four minutes left. The worst case scenario flashed before my eyes, as it often does during Giant games. Brady would move the Patriots down the field with the no huddle offense, keeping the defense winded and off-balance (as I feared). They would score a touchdown in the final seconds of the half, leaving Eli Manning with no time to respond. After controlling the game, we'd go into halftime trailing 10-9. If I didn't foresee these disasters, my heart probably wouldn't survive them.

If you ever have the fortune of going to a Super Bowl and your team isn't leading at halftime, prepare for a miserable half hour. As I headed into the concourse to escape my hostile surroundings, I was greeted by dozens of Patriot fans high-fiving and whooping in joy while every Giant fan looked like an extra from The Walking Dead.

Nevertheless, I still found some hope in the dimmed stadium lights. While on an escalator, a Giant fan next to me pointed out that New York was down 10-9 at halftime of Super Bowl XXI before cruising to a 39-20 victory over the Broncos. Just as I wandered back into the stands to take a peek at the halftime show, LMFAO joined Madonna on stage and "Party Rock Anthem" started playing. I was a Party Rock zombie for Halloween three months ago and watched the video at least 100 times to learn its signature dance. I love this song. This was a good sign.

Just when I was losing hope during halftime, LMFAO came to my rescue.

New England picked up where it left off. The Patriots hurry up offense again easily moved down the field for a touchdown. It was at this point I learned that New Englanders love Gronkowski more than any other player not named Brady. The All Pro tight end was clearly not healthy, but the Patriot fans were fixated on him all game. "Gronk is in the slot!" "Brady's looking to Gronk here!" Gronkowski's injury was a big reason why I thought the Giants would win. New York paid less and less attention to him as the game went on, culminating in Chase Blackburn's momentum-tipping interception.

The Giants' ability to move the ball throughout the game kept my spirits high, but their sputtering drives worried me. New York didn't have a single three-and-out on Sunday, but four times they punted after reaching Patriots territory and twice more they settled for field goals. Six points on six productive drives is a blueprint for losing a Super Bowl.

The bright side of those drives was the stellar play of Steve Weatherford. Pat, the New England fan in our group, declared his hatred for the Giant punter and his "over the top" celebrations after the game. But with three punts inside the 10 yard line, a Super Bowl record, Weatherford deserved to feel good about himself. If he hadn't pinned the Patriots at their own six yard line, the Giants would not have gotten their earlier safety.

Despite the relative friendliness of the Patriot fans around me (unlike some road games, I never feared for my safety), tensions did get high at one point in the third quarter. As a hurt Jason Pierre-Paul lay the turf, a fan two rows behind me mocked him and heckled us. I am not one to cause confrontations, but I despise fans who cheer for injuries. I yelled something about showing class, he yelled back, and the guy next to me warned, "Look buddy, we like you, but we can't protect you if you become an asshole." We shook hands, and that was that. Besides, the big Patriot fan behind me whispered that he had my back anyway. "If anyone is going to beat you up, it's going to be me," he declared.

The view from our seats.

As New England drove for a possible game-clinching touchdown in the final minutes, the PA announcer kept using the patented Gillette Stadium chorus, "And that's another New England Patriots...FIRST DOWN!" (They also played "New York Groove" after both Giants touchdowns.) This was just another example of Indianapolis accommodating its guests. I don't have any other Super Bowls to compare it to, but I can't imagine a city more prepared to host this event. Multiple times during the weekend while we were waiting for a friend on a street corner, a volunteer approached asking us if there was anything we were looking for. The NFL would be wise to give Indy another Super Bowl in the near future. It deserves it.

Wes Welker is shouldering the blame for the loss because of his dropped pass that could have sealed the win for New England. Much of that has to do with Cris Collinworth's "he catches that pass 100 times out of 100" line. Frankly, it was not an easy throw from Brady and a much more difficult catch for Welker. A lesser receiver wouldn't even have the athleticism to twist his body to get his hands on the ball. Not every loss needs a scapegoat.

The biggest roar of the night came not with Mario Manningham's game-changing catch, but during its replay review. There was a cheer when he caught the ball, but it was tempered by the worry that perhaps he didn't get both feet in bounds. Then Bill Belichick threw the challenge flag, and the crowd started murmuring. When the first replay appeared inconclusive, there was a bit more chatter. But when the next replay showed that he got both feet down, the stadium erupted.

Despite how it turned out, I agreed with Belichick for using that challenge. The play was too close and the reward of setting the Giants back to their own 12 yard line was too great. My gripe with Belichick lies with the timeout he wasted before he let Ahmad Bradshaw score. After Hakeem Nicks' first down catch, the Giants had first and goal at the seven yard line with 1:09 left. If the Patriots let Bradshaw score immediately, then they would have had 1:03 with two timeouts for Brady's final drive. Instead they stopped the running back, used a timeout, and let him score on the next play with only 0:57 and one stoppage remaining.

That wasted timeout was critical on the final drive when Brady hit Aaron Hernandez at the Patriots' 44 yard line with 0:27 left. The Patriots could have stopped the clock and at least pick up a couple more first downs. Instead they had to hurry to the line and spike the ball with just 0:17 left, basically putting themselves into a Hail Mary situation. This kind of clock mismanagement is common among other coaches, but rare for Belichick. He emphasizes situational football, and is often prepared for any scenario. The fact that he hesitated to let Bradshaw score was uncharacteristic of him and costly for his team.

On the other sideline, I understand why there would have been an advantage for the Giants to have 12 men (or more) on the field for the Patriots' final plays, when killing precious seconds from the clock was more important than the five yard penalty. But any implication that Coughlin was trying to game the system is incorrect. The tape clearly shows Justin Tuck walking off the field right after the snap, which left only 11 men defending on the play in question.

The Bradshaw touchdown was the most anti-climactic winning score I've seen in any game, much less a Super Bowl. The crowd wasn't sure how to react to it and the Giant players weren't either. Only center David Baas and Henry Hynoski celebrated with Bradshaw, while his other teammates walked off wondering if they'd just shot themselves in the foot. If Brady's Hail Mary at the end of the game was caught, then Bradshaw would be one of the biggest goats in NFL history.

As for that final play, it seemed to last forever. After Hernandez and Deon Grant batted the pass into the air, it disappeared behind a pile of fallen players. My only thought was "Please, not like this." When the ball rolled out of the back of the end zone, I jumped for joy as the confetti started to fall. We accepted some congratulations from the Patriot fans around us, and raced down to the lower level to join the celebration.

Omer and I survived four hours in Patriots territory to bask in a shower of confetti.

I picked the Giants to win the Super Bowl for logical reasons based on how I thought the teams matched up against each other. But part of me worried that the Patriots were just supposed to win this game. Sports has a poetic way of working out in recent years. When the pendulum swings one way, it inevitably swings back the other. The Yankees gutted the Red Sox in 2003, and when it looked like they would twist the knife in 2004, Boston made the greatest comeback in baseball history. The 2007 Patriots were undefeated for eighteen games and then stumbled on their final hurdle against a huge underdog. The 2010 Heat tried to build an All Star team, but lost in The Finals to an old veteran squad that had always come up short. The Eagles tried to engineer a championship of their own this season with a huge spending spree, but they started off horribly and missed the playoffs. Given recent history, it seemed like this game was made for the Patriots to get revenge. They'd suffered two heartbreakingly close losses to the Giants. The third time was supposed to be the charm. 

A friend asked me if the atmosphere in Boston today is better or worse than it was in 2008, and I didn't know the answer. Super Bowl XLII blindsided New England and robbed them of sports immortality. I bet there are some Patriot fans out there who would trade their 2003 and 2004 titles to complete that perfect season as the greatest team in NFL history. But Super Bowl XLVI might be more painful because it was supposed to be the victory that alleviated some of that lingering hurt. If anything, I've learned that a fan can win three Super Bowls in the last 11 years and still be humbled.

There's been a lot of talk about luck being a big factor in Sunday's outcome, since either team could have won. But it's no different from every Super Bowl we've seen in the NFL lately. In 2009, we had James Harrison's 100 yard interception return and Santonio Holmes' catch. In 2010, we saw Sean Payton's onside kick and Tracy Porter's pick six. In 2011, there was Nick Collins' interception and Rashard Mendenhall's fumble. Now we have Welker's drop and Manningham's catch. Some call it lucky, some call it opportunistic. All I know is that I happen to root for a team that did it twice in five seasons. For that, I do feel lucky.

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