I don't even consider myself a Giants fan (I do not invest enough interest in the team to ever have the word "fanatic" applied to me. Wish more people felt that way about their Yankees "fandom." Ahem), but, my god, the last minute of that game may have taken about five years off my life. I don't think I breathed during the last New England possession. Maybe it takes a certain mindset to get swept up in a game like that, but I do feel sorry for people who don't get to experience that burst of crazy feeling. It's not quite unadulterated joy for me, like when the Yankees win (and I rock back and forth on the couch and do things like clean to burn off nervous energy), but it is a nice level of joy just the same.
What's even better is when you're in the area where the hometown team wins. I was in Hoboken, current home of Eli Manning, this evening, and as my friend Rachel and I made our way toward Washington Street, the sounds of cheering and car honking got louder and louder. Like so, and this was roughly a half hour after the game ended (my favorite part is the taxi with the flashing interior blue lights - he was beeping his horn rhythmically and waving to everyone, like he was in a a parade):
And this doesn't even do it justice. There were so many flag-bedecked cars driving by with people in Giants jerseys cheering as they hung out the window. People were randomly high-fiving each other on the street, and calling to each other from opposite sidewalks with "wooooooo"s. "Let's Go Giants" was pretty much the only thing I heard between this street corner and the PATH station. And when I got there, this PATH conductor was coming up the stairs smiling, all, "Ain't no doubt who won."
It reminded me of when
Italy won the World Cup all those years ago, except, you know, with a team I actually somewhat care about.
Anyway, I also won the first two quarters of my office pool on a 0 and 9, so YEAHHHHHHH, BITCHEZ. Good night, indeed.
