The Best Ever

The '07-'08 New England Patriots were the best football team I have ever seen. I believe they were the greatest team in NFL history. Archaic classics such as the '72 Dolphins and '85 Bears certainly would be no match athletically for modern NFL teams, and no recent team (with only possible exceptions the terrifying '98 Vikings and more well-rounded '98 Broncos) was nearly as dominant throughout the season. Only the '89 Niners compare favorably. They were just before my time.

The Patriots started the season with the ten following wins:
38-14 @ NY Jets
38-14 vs San Diego Chargers
38-7 vs Buffalo Bills
34-13 @ Cincinnati Bengals
34-17 vs Cleveland Browns
48-27 @ Dallas Cowboys
49-28 @ Miami Dolphins
52-7 vs Washington Redskins
24-20 @ Indianapolis Colts
56-10 @ Buffalo Bills

I watched some or all of most of these games, and have never been more impressed with a team. This wasn't domination; this was humiliation. The wins over the Redskins and Bills (both above-average squads) displayed a particular zeal for annihilation. These weren't merely executions - these were those particularly brutal murders where the victim is found riddled with bullet holes in the head and chest and they can barely identify the body.

As impressive as these wins were, they were even more heinous. I can remember the Pats going for it more than once on 4th down late in the 4th quarter up five touchdowns in that Redskins game. I remember Joe Gibbs's slack-jawed face - more shocked than appalled or disappointed. That's how it was for football fans as well - most hated the Pats, but watched every game just like people can't turn away from watching a car crash.

The turning point came the week after that Bills homicide, when Philadelphia defensive coordinator Jim Johnson hatched a maniacal blitzfest and the Eagles came within a moronic A.J. Feely interception of pulling the biggest upset of the NFL season in Foxboro. That game provided a glimmer of hope, an idea that the Patriots offense might not be invincible and their defense could be overrun with mistake-free play.

The following week the 11-0 Patriots travelled to play disappointing Baltimore on Monday Night Football. The Pats snatched victory from the jaws of defeat in a thrilling 27-24 triumph over the Ravens. It was the highest-rated program in the history of cable television.

After consecutive nail-biters over losing teams, the Patriots could no longer be considered invincible. But they blew out the contending Pittsburgh Steelers the next weekend, then casually peeled off wins against the AFC East cellar-dwelling Miami Dolphins and New York Jets. Then came the season finale at the Giants in the most exciting "meaningless" game in NFL history, a 38-35 Patriots win. Although that game was close, it appeared the Giants had played a perfect game and still came up short at home.

The Patriots cruised to the Super Bowl on the strength of two boring playoff wins over the physical but unintelligent Jacksonville Jaguars and San Diego Chargers. These were not like the massacres of the first half of the regular season, nor the close calls near its end. These were grinding, matter-of-fact wins featuring an increased reliance on tailback Laurence Maroney and little contribution from superstar wideout Randy Moss, who opposing defenses were now obsessing over.

It was so obvious that the only way a team could have a chance against the Pats was to get pressure on Tom Brady. I watched in disgust all season as teams sat back and tried to cover the Pats' formidable receivers. It led to 112 catches for Wes Welker, who had fewer his first three years in the NFL. I watched nauseously as Jacksonville repeatedly, meekly rushed four guys and Brady went 26-28. I watched all these teams refuse to throw the kitchen sink at Brady, even though they were getting torched and had nothing to lose.

Last night the Giants got pressure on Brady. They got it through their defensive line, the best pass rushing D-line in football. Justin Tuck, Michael Strahan, Osi Umenyiora - these guys are the reason the Giants won the game. The combination of this talent and superb defensive coaching was reminiscent of recent Patriots teams - the teams that actually won the Super Bowl.

Pressure changes everything. It's the reason Peyton Manning has the same number of Super Bowl trophies as his brother. These top QBs, Brady and Manning (Palmer and Brees if you want to down the line a bit), they are not the same under pressure. They make the same bad throws the bad quarterbacks make. They don't get into rhythm like they usually do. They get happy feet and screwy mechanics even when the pressure isn't there, because it's in the back of their minds.

Last night Brady looked like an average quarterback. He looked like Jay Cutler or Rex Grossman or Peyton Manning against a good defense. Or, maybe you could say he looked like Eli Manning.

Now is the time when I inevitably try to relate all of this to my poker career, because that's what I do in this blog. It occurred to me watching that game that my career has been pretty similar to Eli Manning's. Eli hardly had a hiccup cruising to the NFL (picked #1 overall in the 2004 draft), though he didn't really do anything special while in college. He has been a decent young pro, but was known more for coming up short than anything else (until the last month). I have thought a lot about what it must be like for Eli around his brother, his family, or even everyday life. It is so painfully obvious that he is not as talented as his brother. It is so hard for anyone to even think of the name "Eli Manning" without disparagingly comparing him to his older brother, one of the greatest to ever play the position.

I heard a snatch of one postgame interview where a Giants player said they had just beaten "the best team ever." It made me think of poker, why I play the big tournaments. I know I am not the best out there. I know I will never be the best. I see these 18-year old kids hit the international circuit and in two months have more success than I have had in my career. I don't play to be the best in the world, but I do play to beat the best in the world. I play for that one moment where it finally all comes together, to stand alone on top of the world.