Superbowl Heartbreak

By Rob Sheftic

Senior Staff Writer

My experience during Superbowl Sunday and my feelings during that day, because it may very well be the end of a tradition with my brother.

It’s February 2nd, the Saturday before the big game. I’m making the drive to my brother’s house for a pre-Superbowl tailgating party. I can barely contain my nerves. Just thinking about that game, I can’t imagine the thoughts going through the players’ minds. My car is packed up with Patriots clothes and a ton of beer. The plan is to build a fire, have a few drinks, enjoy the brisk cold air, and pass the time so our game can arrive sooner. I drive down his street, blasting the old-school Rocky theme music, which I traditionally do before each Patriots game (I know. Don’t laugh.) We drank too much, but it’s a great night. It would be the last great night for us Patriots fans this season.

So what’s exactly on the line with this game? The Patriots are going for something that hasn’t been done since 1972: the perfect season. For eighteen games, my beloved Patriots have lost none, and all we need is one more win to become the greatest team in football history. All the records that the Pats have broken this season - every single game and memory - will all be worth it with one more victory. The celebration will be legendary. I’ve never seen so much beer in one fridge before in my life. I have already made it a point that if the unthinkable happens I will be taking a few days off to enjoy it. The hats, t-shirts, DVD’s, pictures - every day after will be an ongoing celebration of the fact that their record can never be broken, only matched.

Not only does this game mean a lot to me because my team is going for football history, but by the time next season rolls around my brother will have his second child. It’s a great blessing for me to see him as a father, and I hope to one day be the kind of father that he is. Having two kids is going to put a damper on our traditional football Sundays. It won’t ever be the same as it’s been for the past seven years. Each and every Sunday we have watched football together, and this will be the last year that we’re able to do it. I understand the situation completely. He is going to have to take care of more parental duties on Sundays, which will change our football tradition. So what better way to end the tradition than with one more Patriots victory? One more win will put us in the history books. One more win and we’ll have the absolute perfect season. One more win and we just might be able to end our football tradition in grand-style.

Sunday arrives. I wake up around 7:30 and head for church. Somewhere in my sub-conscious I’m praying to God for just one more victory. We head for breakfast after church. Then we just wait. That Sunday is one of the longest days of my life. The clock doesn’t seem to move. There are countless hours of pre-game, but I can’t watch anymore. I just want to get the game going, as I’m sure most of New England does.

One final moment by myself as I change into my game-day apparel. Minutes before game-time my brother and I give our usual fist pump and say, “Let’s go take care of business.” On the cusp of history and all is left is one game.

From the start of that game the N.Y. Giants flat out kick our butts. They control the tempo of the game with their ball-control offense, and our high-powered offense is all but invisible against their strong defense. Still trailing by three points, Tom Brady finds his go-to target, Randy Moss, for the go-ahead touchdown to put my Pats up by three. “ Let’s go out and finish the job Patriots! We’ve got a little over two minutes standing in our way of immortality,” I say. I can’t sit down the rest of the way.

By now everyone knows the disaster that occurred for us Patriot fans. My beloved Pats “choke” our once dream season away as the Giants score the final points of the game with thirty seconds left. One last desperate attempt by the Pats and it’s over. My bro and I stand in shock, with our hands covering our faces. Did this really happen? Is the season over? Are the last eighteen weeks all a waste? From our point of view the answer to all those questions is a saddened yes. It just wasn’t meant to happen. Don’t misread that the Giants earned that win and my Pats didn’t deserve it. They played like crap. There are a potential nineteen weeks in an NFL season, and for eighteen of those weeks the Pats were the better team. It’s all caught up to them - they’ve finally found their one week to play poorly.

Amidst all of the heartache in the back of my mind, I’m left wondering if the tradition is over. Can we really leave this tradition with the worst loss in franchise history as our final game? I don’t know the answer to that. There’ve been some rumor here and there that it isn’t over and that we’ll still be watching our Patriots next season. I sure hope so. We definitely have some “unfinished business” to take care of. I want to go out with a Superbowl trophy. However, if it is over, I do have a lot of fond memories. I got to witness three Superbowl victories with my brother and have countless hours of fun. Those can never be taken away.