Washington 30 - New York 29

 WASHINGTON 30 - NEW YORK 29

Given the choice between a root canal without any anesthetic or watching the Giants lose to the team formerly known as Prince, my answer would be "How wide do you want me to open my mouth?"

18 months of living under the all encompassing horror of Covid, 18 months of desperately longing for life to be as it was BC (before Covid). And then the Giants reminded me that maybe I don't long for EVERYTHING to be as it had been.

I sat in the stands as a season ticket holder for 2 decades late in the century that preceded this. I was there for the fumble, thank you Mr. Pisarcik. I know what ugly looks like. But couldn't they have waited until next year for me to have to wait til next year? 

Yogi once said its getting late early (if it wasn't Yogi it should have been). Or as Don Meredith used to croon " Turn out the lights the party's over." Someone did not pay the electric bill, the lights are off and this team, and their season, sits in total blind darkness.

Speak about snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. The last two minutes of that game could be run on endless loop and be more effective at Guantanamo than waterboarding.

I guess I should be grateful for the distraction from the mind numbing stupidity exhibited in the face of the pandemic.  But did it have to be replaced with other mind numbing stupidity? 

I envy those who go to museums to be captured by the finest art, or read books that are transcendent. The near certainty of response is a condition I wish I could replicate. But being a lifelong fan of an almost always staggering sports franchise provides me with a different emotion, one that leaves me most often in the condition I now inhabit: wondering if my doctor has any laughing gas to stop the flow of tears.