"It's great to be young and a Yankee."

As far as season-ending defeats go, this one was like the equivalent of watching a scene from Hostel. It makes your skin crawl, it's nauseating, and it somehow highlights each minute detail that disgusts you the most. And you think after watching it you'll have nightmares. You cringe in the moments after the scene, recalling the gory details. But then it's over. And you forget what happened in the last scene, and are thankful that it somehow didn't have any discernible longer-term impact. 

My poor sisters once again trekked into the city to spend QT with their older sibling, only to find themselves intermittenly left alone with a table of my maniacal football buddies, while I darted from corner of the bar to outside to the bathroom to even my apartment, in a desperate game of Mastermind. I'd disappear for an hour only to return with 6 different hats that I'd then frantically interchange to find one that proved lucky. (Which none did obviously, so I ended up just looking like one of the confused freaks on a Nickelodeon game show who are very competitively embroiled and extremely intense about something inordinately ridiculous.)

In the end, I had my face in my hands, concealing a set of eyes that may or may not have shed a tear or two. I acted like an 8-year old who was the first one out on musical chairs at a birthday party and pouted aggressively about wanting to go home right. now. My sisters complied, and even better, they ran static on my neighbor who was innocuously trying to give me "it's just a game" slash "put it in perspective" speeches. 

You can tell a lot about what people think of you based on what they suggest doing when you're at your low point. For instance, if a guy dumps a girl, the girl's friends will console her by saying, "You wanna go shoe shopping? Would that make you feel better?" 

Amanda asked me, "Do you wanna play Zelda? How bout we do that?"

Lauren asked me, "I know what we could do! Let's get into a fight with a fake sports fan girl!"

They always know just what to say. 

I was pretty down after I left. Even Zelda and terrorizing vapid Philly chicks couldn't yank me outta my funk. I was really miserable, and unlike most things people normally get upset about, there was absolutely nothing I could do about this. I couldn't un-lose the game. I couldn't avoid ESPN and sports bars. 

Then one of my buddies called, and I swear he sounded so upbeat I thought for a second that maybe the Giants had made some miraculous comeback in the last 3 minutes or something. 

"Hey, where'd you go! You left the bar, come back, we're still all here!"

"I want to die. Go away."

"Listen, KP. You can't be like this. Nothing will take away February 3, 2008. That still happened. It didn't happen this year, and it sucks, but we already got the greatest Super Bowl win in history."

Sold. 

And it was nice. It was a little sad watching the Steelers game, just because I was jealous of the Rothlesberger-jersey-wearing contingent who still got to cheer for their team. But I'll live. I didn't have to deal with any Eagles fans. Just one, but girls are always easier to manage. The biggest roadblock to recovering from the inimitable end-of-season misery was the palpable joy not from Philly fans, but from every New England fan I know. All of them. 

Thanks, guys. PS...

"The envi0us man thinks that if a neighbor breaks his leg, he will be able to walk better himself." --Helmut Schoek

and for the hell of it: