We are a nation of sports fans hopelessly in love with the little guy, the opponent facing trillion-to-one odds. We are always looking for the next Lake Placid, the next Douglas over Tyson, the next Jimmy V scrambling around for a hug, the next Joe Namath guaranteeing a victory over Goliath and then delivering the rock as accurately as David delivered his.
Fifteen years ago, Bill Belichick and Tom Brady knew the feeling. They were supposed to get pancaked in Super Bowl XXXVI by the St. Louis Rams and the Greatest Show on Turf, and they scored an indelible upset instead.