I was excited about watching the Super Bowl. I think Bill Belichick is the best coach in NFL history. I think Tom Brady is a once in a lifetime quarterback. I love the blue collar work ethic of role players like Julian Edelman and Malcolm Butler. In my wildest dreams, I didn’t think the game would end up the way it did.
When I first thought about the game, I thought the Falcons were the better team. Sure, the Patriots could take one of the best wide receivers in the NFL, Julio Jones, out of the game by double-teaming him, but what about all the other weapons Atlanta rolled out? Matt Ryan could throw to Mohammad Sanu, Taylor Gabriel, Tevin Coleman, or DeVonte Freeman. There were too many weapons.
But then I read all these articles about how the New England defense matched up perfectly against the Atlanta offense, and how the Falcons’ defense wasn’t good enough to slow down the Patriots’ offense. Okay, I thought. The Patriots will win by about ten points.
I was hoping for more than an entertaining game. I wanted to see what brilliant scheme Belichick had cooked up to slow down Atlanta’s top scoring offense.
Things got off to a rocky start for me, mostly because I am anti-social and my neighbors are nice people. About an hour before the game started, my neighbor’s wife came over and invited us to eat crawfish with them. It’s a perfectly normal, friendly thing to do.
But all I wanted to do for the next four hours was stare laser beams into my television. I’m not a monster, though, so we went over. The crawfish was great, and we were able to watch the first series or two on the flat screen TV hanging in my neighbors’ garage.
When we got back to our house, the first quarter was halfway over. Nothing had happened yet. My wife, Julie, made buffalo chicken dip, the only thing I’d requested for food during the game. She was also cooking pulled pork. The two of us and our two boys sat around eating it and drinking cream sodas.
In the second quarter, LeGarrette Blount fumbled, and I got a bad feeling. The Falcons scored. None of us said much. It was only 7–0.
The Falcons scored again on their next position, making it 14–0, and the game was starting to get that blowout feel. The commercials felt a little boring this year, too. I don’t remember any of them.
Patriots receivers were dropping passes left and right. It looked like they were the inexperienced team. And then Tom Brady threw an interception on a slant pass and the it was returned for a touchdown by some defensive back I’ve never heard of. The score was 21–0 and it really felt like a rout. Especially when Fox threw up a graphic showing that the largest comeback in Super Bowl history was only 10 points.
Well, Brady and Belichick could try to get number five next year.
The Patriots added a field goal at the end of the half to make it 21–3. One of my friends, who’d been touting the Falcons for the last month, texted me a long version of “I told you so.”
I texted back, “There’s still 30 minutes to play.”
Lady Gaga performed at halftime. I’m not really into her music. No one in my family is, for that matter. My oldest son left to make an appearance at his girlfriends’ family’s Super Bowl party. My wife made peanut butter chocolate chip pretzel cookies.
The Falcons scored early in the second half, making it 28–3. Any comeback for the Patriots seemed a fantasy at this point. But on the other hand, Tom Brady and Bill Belichick roamed the sidelines for New England. If anyone could perform a miracle on a football field, they could.
Late in the third quarter, Brady hit James White on a short pass for a touchdown, making the score 28–9. Stephen Gostkowski missed the extra point, and it felt like nothing could go the Patriots’ way. The touchdown felt like one of those you see all the time in a blowout, just a momentarily lapse by the dominant team.
We were mostly watching for the commercials at this point, scrolling through Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook on our phones.
There was an onside kick by New England, and it failed miserably.
The Patriots added a field goal to make it 28–12, and this was the first time I mentioned that no Super Bowl had ever gone to overtime. The four of us discussed the math. Touchdown, two point conversion, touchdown, two point conversion. All without allowing any points at all. And there were only nine minutes remaining.
And then on the next Falcons’ possession, Matt Ryan was sacked and fumbled. It gave New England the ball on the Atlanta 25 yard line. The Falcons had done the only thing they couldn’t do: give the Patriots an opportunity for an easy score.
And Tom Brady took advantage, hitting Danny Amendola for a touchdown. New England punched in the two point conversion on a trick play, a direct snap to James White.
I text my friend, “Patriots tie it and win in overtime.”
Then a few plays later Freeman broke loose for almost forty yards. And Julio Jones made one of the most acrobatic catches you’ll ever see. The Falcons were in position to kill the clock and kick a field goal, sealing their Super Bowl win. And then neither of those things mattered, because Ryan was sacked on one play, and a holding penalty was called on the next. Atlanta was out of field goal range.
They had to punt, and gave the ball back to Tom Brady with three and a half minutes left.
At this point you could see resignation on the Falcons’ sideline. An avalanche was coming down the mountain, and there was nothing they could do to get out of the way. Now they were the one hoping for a miracle.
Brady marched down the field, aided by a sensational catch by Edelman. A few plays later, White ran the ball in for a touchdown, and Amendola caught a screen pass and barely made it across the goal line to convert the two points. The score was tied 28–28.
I remembered that I’d promised to bring some cookies and pulled pork over to my neighbor. There was no way I was leaving my TV, not for a second. All of us leaned forward, waiting for the coin toss.
New England called heads, and the coin landed on heads. We all knew the Patriots were going to win at that point.
Brady took his team down the field easily. At the time, I didn’t know that New England had run more than twice as many plays as Atlanta. I just knew that the Falcons’ defense looked gassed. They were moving so slow.
Near the goal line, Brady threw a pass to Martellus Bennett that was almost intercepted. Momentum is a weird, intangible thing. It can flip around on you in a second, after one play.
White ran the ball in for his third touchdown on the next play. New England won 34–28. They probably shouldn’t have. Somehow White wasn’t the MVP, but it’s a little more excusable when you know that Brady set a record for passing yards in a Super Bowl.
When White scored that touchdown, we all stood up and screamed. We’re not Patriots fans, but it was just an amazing moment. The fourth quarter was amazing. It’s rare when you’re watching something and you know you’re witnessing history.
This was one of those times.
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