For those of you who have known me for awhile, you know that around this time every year my heart gets broken. Maybe it’s New England, maybe it’s Pittsburgh . . . the names change but the situation remains the same. I’m stuck watching the someone else’s team in the Super Bowl and already dreaming about next season.
Early in the second quarter yesterday, I’m sitting in my seat in the RCA Dome, praying that it won’t happen again. As our pastor said earlier in service, while clad in a Colts stole, "I don’t know if God cares about football. But I’m not God, so I’m praying for a win. Go Colts!" Down 21-3 against the Patriots, it wasn’t looking good. I’m not saying I was hopeless, but it wasn’t a good sign.
What followed from there was an amazing roller coaster of a game. I’ve never experienced anything like it. When our defense was on the field, everyone was standing and screaming at the top of their lungs. We’d catch up, they’d get ahead. Finally with a little over 2 minutes left, down 34-31, Peyton reminded me of why I love him so. Touchdown Colts and we’re going to the Super Bowl! We just stood there and soaked it all in. This poor baby I’m carrying – between the noise, the dehydration from refusing to leave the stands even to get a drink, and the heart palpitations, who knows what it’s thinking. Either this will be the biggest football fan ever or it will run screaming at the words NFL.
So here’s the gang that witnessed history last night: Mike and I (the boy really needs a jersey), above us are my sister, Ana, and her boyfriend, Greg, and next to them are their neighbors Mike and Debbie. Many, many, many thanks go to Greg, who treated us all to this game. I wish you could see the sign Ana made in hopes of getting on TV: "Got Vinitieri?"
For the next 13 days I will be basking in this unfamiliar giddiness. For once I will care more about the game than the commercials. Everyone in this city is so proud and excited. As much as I miss my southern home, it feels so good to be here right now.