Well, the playoffs are over, and we have our conference champions; the New York Football Giants and the New England Patriots. Next stop, the Super Bowl That No One Will Watch. Seriously, there are only four markets that will have any interest in the actual game. The first two are the people of Massachusetts (and to a smaller degree Connecticut, New Hampshire and Maine) and the people of New York. The third are the players and die-hard fans of the ’72 Dolphins, who will root for the Giants to stop the Pats from joining the hallowed ranks of the season-sweepers. The final market that has an interest is the San Diego Chargers and their fans, who would like to see Eli ground into something that could go on a New York pizza. Chargers fans will want Archie on that pizza to, if the Pats can find a way. The rest of the country is only interested in whether the Patriots can join the ’72 Dolphins, or if they will fall on their faces at the finish line. Oh, and the commercials too. 

Right now, the Giants are billing Super Bowl XLII as the rematch between Rocky Balboa and Clubber Lang in Rocky III. Right now, the Giants are scouring the hospital records from the December 29 matchup to see if some gruff, but lovable, Giants fan got shoved into an iron railing by Bill Belichick. Right now, the Giants are building a statue of Eli Manning, so that he can throw a motorcycle helmet at it. Right now, the Giants are downloading “Eye of the Tiger” and “Gonna Fly Now (Theme from Rocky)” onto their iPods.  

The rest of us really don’t give a damn.   

It’s almost impossible to like either team. There are many reasons to like them both, but you just can’t. The Patriots have risen to dominate the NFL, after decades of being dominated. Teddy Bruschi is the poster-boy for overcoming adversity. The man had a stroke, for God’s sake. In Webster’s Dictionary, under All-American Boy, it says “see Tom Brady.” On the opposing side, the Giants started the season looking as if they would be spectators at the Super Bowl, but knuckled down, instead of under. Michael Strahan is one of the best-known, and liked, defensive linemen in the country. Eli Manning is looking as if he might finally emerge from under Peyton’s shadow. But you still can’t like either team.  

The Pats have risen to prominence with a system of interchangeable parts. You can’t even buy most jerseys with a player’s name on it. Unless it’s Brady or Bruschi, someone else will be wearing that number next season. Machines can’t love, so why love them? Bill Belichick is probably the dirtiest coach since John Madden. We only root for the crooks in movies.  And, frankly, Brady’s charm has worn thin. We’re completely sick of how nothing ever goes wrong for him. There is such a thing as too much o####ood thing.   

You can’t like the Giants for one reason: Eli Manning is a little ####. Regardless of how big his brother’s shadow is, or that he can’t get an endorsement deal unless Peyton comes along for the ride, or that he has risen above his detractors to lead the team to the Big Game, he is still a little ####. Rather than being ecstatic about being asked to play a game for his living, he demands a trade immediately. We would have understood if he had asked to be traded to the Saints, being from Louisiana. But you cannot forgive his demand to get traded from the Chargers. Yes, daddy was the instigator, but Eli was an adult at the time. He just wasn’t a man.  

So, if you can’t like the teams, you can’t care about the game. The only benefit to the outcome of the conference championships was that we get to see the “hard to say goodbye” commercial again this year (genius; although “You want my Coke, Mean Joe” will win Best Super Bowl Commercial, again). So, enjoy the commercials, hope Tom Petty has no wardrobe malfunctions, and that Madden will hold it to a 12-pack. There’s a game somewhere around there, but. . .