Sunday Night I drove back home from the old folks place. Nick Foles had just dropped a perfect throw. It carried over Trae Waynes, to the left of Harrison Smith, and plopped all over Torrey Smith’s outside shoulder. Spectacular. The game was 31-7. I left with my back scrunched up, and my tail between my legs.
I was bummed. What I wanted to have happen didn’t happen. I wanted KEEEEENUUUUUUM, I wanted a home Superbowl, I wanted Jacksonville’s defense, I wanted someone, anyone, please someone, to represent the AFC instead of New England.