The Night the Lights Went Out on Broadway (with a correction)
"Wait 'til next year" came early last night. And then it came often.
In a first half of humiliation, the Giants seemed to be moving on four flat tires, the illusion of Minnesota but a week before now seeming light years away. Unfortunately, this was the team we have come to expect over the last millennium. Porous on defense and poor on offense.
And so, the season ends with a whimper. Tail between the legs. The lights on Broadway extinguished. The last note of the fat lady's song lost in the darkness of night.
The question posed is whether 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Defeat a personal affront. Crushing defeat simultaneously devastating and almost numbing. The band-aid ripped off before we even dipped our hand in the popcorn.
Each season I give my heart and ask only for a few miracles in return. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me forever shame on your scouting department, your coaching staff, your training facility, your religious leader, your dentist, your first grade teacher, your snoring. I hate everything about you. You don't deserve me. I am leaving you. I mean it. But only for a moment or two.
Same time next year.