I will hereby simultaneously give myself credit for a great early season prediction, and at the same time chastise myself as said prediction ended up blowing up in my face.
Before the season started, I saw that the Indianapolis Colts were listed at approximately 8-1 odds to win this year's Super Bowl (they were actually listed as the third-favorites behind New England and Philly).
And at that time, to me, it was painfully obvious that people were vastly underestimating the facts that Peyton Manning is entering his prime as arguably the most gifted quarterback in the history of the NFL, that Edgerrin James, recently thought to be one of the top three or four running backs in football was finally rounding into his previous healthy and world-beating form, and that those two supertsars, along with the Colts' excellent offensive line, their superb deep core of receivers, and their vastly improved defense (which would further benefit from Dungy's creative defensive mind), that the 2005 Colts could very well end up being one of the greatest teams of all time and end up challenging the 1972 Dolphins perfect season - simply put, I saw this as an almost unbeatable football team.
Obviously, I didn't wager so much as one penny on the Colts at 8-1 odds because gambling is illegal, immoral and a sin against God.
But that still didn't take away from my sense of satisfaction when by week nine or ten, people were talking about the 2005 Colts as potentially the greatest one-year NFL team of all time . . . when, pardon my ego, I had this shit figured out before the season even started.
All of that said, I hereby take my hand off (please, SOMEBODY tell me they get this Pantheon-level Unintentional Comedy reference) to the Pittsburgh Steelers for coming into a place that was designed to routinely aid the already super-talented Colts team to score close to forty points a game, and for holding the Colts to a mere three most of the way through the game.
I am open to arguments that "Peyton Manning's an equally unclutch rich man's Karl Malone."
But more than anything, on that day three Sundays ago, we were all treated to one of the things that makes sports so great - that once in a blue moon, when a Buster Douglas or the Pittsburgh Steelers can catch the far more talented athlete/team off guard and by the time the superior boxer/team realizes what's happening, it's too fucking late.
My mother and my girlfriend might very well have a valid point that spending hundreds (and what used to be thousands) of hours a year in front of the TV watching sports is a waste of time . . .
. . . but without being willing to endure some "Warriors 92, Bobcats 74" snorefests, we'd never have the pleasure of knowing that we, along with millions of other crazed fans, got to share in a moment of history.
