My girlfriend and I smoked and cooked a brisket for the game on Sunday; it?s a 10-hour process that required us to start drinking really early, so by the time game time came around and we got to the bar with our friends, the game was a blur. But we watched the recording last night, and I must say, it was a great game, the way you want a championship game to go insofar as a battle to the very end. We live just a few miles north of Dallas, so I wanted the Eagles to win, but only because all the Cowboys fans around here hate them with a seething passion, and as a 49ers fan, few things make me happier than a butt-hurt Cowboys or Seahawks fan. But honestly, not having a dog in the fight, I didn?t really care who won; either way would have been a great story: Nick Foles, playing backup to one of the brightest QBs in the league, takes the reins and drags the Eagles with the ?underdog? chip-on-the-shoulder to the big game and wins or Tom Brady, at 74 years old, winning his sixth ring and becoming the single Super Bowl winningest player of all time and tying the true douchebags of the NFL (The Steelers) for most SB wins by a single team.
BUT the 2017 season is behind us; time to look forward. Brady?s not going out like that, so at age 114, he?ll be back in 2018 for his sixth. The Pats unwittingly blessed us in a trade with Jimmy Garoppolo who, out of nowhere, took my 0-10 Niners to a 6-10 record proving that we just might be contenders in the NFC West again as the Seahawks are breaking down and the Cardinals and Rams still struggle to find ?consistency? in the dictionary. Not getting my hopes up, (I?m a Niners fan, not a crazy person,) but the poetic justice of Garoppolo taking us to meet the Pats in Super Bowl 53: Brady on his back on his own 10 yard line, Garoppolo standing over him with the scoreboard behind him reading SF-38:NE-9, and Brady mutters with his dying breath ?Et tu, Brute?? under the hail of red and gold confetti?. A boy can dream?
