Boy, was I wrong.  I haven't been that wrong since I put Mrs. SportDork's jeans in the dryer.  (Jeans, I have learned, are a very delicate article of clothing and are subject to a complex set of laundering rules that are dependent on their age, size, style, brand and the position of the moon.)  I thought this Super Bowl was going to be a real snoozer.  A perfect '10' on the suckitude scale.  I thoroughly expected the highlight to be me getting so drunk that I couldn't remember it.  As I made abundantly clear last week (http://sportdork.com/2010/02/02/air-it-out.aspx), I couldn't find a single thing about the game to get me fired up going into it.  I was so tired of being bombarded by a collection of over-done plot lines (a city's hopes and dreams for recovery rest on the shoulders of its football team, Peyton Manning is so great that he should be declared Master of the Universe, etc.) that by kick off, I had completely tuned out.  I had lost all interest in the Super Bowl. 

Of course, that didn't mean I wasn't going to watch it.

When the first quarter ended with the Colts up 10 - 0, my primary concern was making sure I had enough Crown Royal left to execute my inebriation plan, since it was pretty obvious that the Robotron-led Colts were going to dispense with the Saints in their typical business-like fashion and suck any remaining joy from the Super Bowl experience.  Instead, just when I had let loose with my third "This one's over!" as the second quarter began, this Super Bowl magically transformed, reaching levels of awesomeness that were matched only by the lobster tails (hey - it's the Super Bowl.  Gotta step up.) and baby back ribs that were cooked up at SportDork Headquarters on Sunday.

I still can't believe how wrong I was.  This Super Bowl had everything.  I should have recognized that this Super Bowl was destined for greatness when Carrie Underwood came out for the National Anthem. 

You go, Carrie.  (Much like Kelly Clarkson, Carrie is one of my guilty pleasures.  Admit it.  You love them both too.) 

So just when I was ready to completely write off the NFL and pick a favorite team for the Six Nations Rugby Championship, we get a game that completely restores my faith in the NFL.  Unbelievable.

New Orleans' coach Sean Payton demonstrated that defense and a running game aren't the only things that win championships.  Great coaching helps too.  It was obvious from the outset that the Saints prevailing philosophy was that if Manning and the Colts' offense weren't on the field, it would be difficult for them to score.  Well played, Sean.  The Saints offense couldn't get out of its own way in the first quarter, making the plan difficult to execute, but in the second quarter, when the offense found its rhythm, we were reminded that sometimes the best defense is a ball-control offense.  Twenty-six offensive plays for the Saints, and six for the Colts?  Every time they flashed a shot of Manning on the bench with his arms folded, you could see his frustration level rising. 

(I don't know why, but it was during that second quarter, and during those repeated shots of Manning, that I came to grips with something.  I don't like Peyton Manning.  I've been trying to suppress my anti-Manning feelings for years, because when I break it down, I can't identify any rational basis for my position.  By all accounts, he's a good guy.  Good husband, good father.  Doesn't cheat, steal, lie, or commit any morally depraved or character-less acts.  He even makes funny commercials.  He works his a*s off and his game preparation is unparalleled - legendary, even.  He's a great athlete and a stand up guy, and yet when I see him on the field, I want him to lose.  I immediately run through all the reasons why I shouldn't feel that way, but it does nothing to change the fact that when I watch Peyton Manning, I want to see him fail with every fiber of my being.  I've suppressed my feelings for years because I couldn't reconcile them with all the positive Manning characteristics - couldn't support them with objective Manning data, but during the second quarter of the Super Bowl, I think I finally came to peace with my struggles.  As I looked at him sitting on the bench with his arms crossed, I realized something:  I don't like Peyton Manning, and I don't need a reason.  He just rubs me the wrong way.  Maybe it’s the face he makes (http://www.manningface.com/ and also well chronicled by Bill Simmons of ESPN.com (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Simmons#Manning_face)).  Maybe it's because he looks like a big dork.  Maybe it's that each of us has at least one extremely successful, hard-working famous person that we love to watch fail, for no reason other than it makes us feel better about ourselves.  I don't know.  All I know is that I can't hide my feelings any more.  I'm not rooting for Peyton Manning, even though I have no good reason, and there's nothing you can do about it.)

So I am now free to admit that watching Manning stewing on the sideline during the second quarter as the Saints offense kept him off the field brought me great joy.  (It feels so good to say that!  I can't believe I've been suppressing these feelings for so long.)   I was reminded of Bill Parcells' plan when the Giants played the explosive Bills in the Super Bowl as I watched the Saints eat up valuable minutes in the second quarter.  The way Sean Payton managed the end of the second quarter was a thing of beauty.  I almost cried.  The unsuccessful fourth down attempt at the Colts' goal line, the Saints' timeout usage on the Colts ensuing possession from deep in their own territory, the play calling to put the Saints in position for a second field goal to end the first half - all of it was part of a brilliant, calculated plan to make it as difficult as possible for the Colts to put points on the board by keeping them off the field.  Sean Payton had the Saints playing defense even when his offense was on the field.  Even the on-sides kick to start the second half was a defensive play intended to keep the Colts' offense on the sideline.  From the minute the Colts went up 10 - 0, Sean Payton knew that he had to take all available measures to keep the deficit from growing any bigger, or the game would be over.  His no-fear approach (coupled with what are clearly gigantic testicles) worked, turning a 10 - 0 deficit into a 13-10 lead early in the third quarter.  Yes, his gambles easily could have been unsuccessful and the game would have been over, but that doesn't mean they were foolish.  He knew that if he sat by and did nothing - played the percentages - the game was guaranteed to be over.  His calculated gambles were what gave the Saints the chance they needed to win the game.

Before moving on, I have to take a minute to address what happened in between the second and third quarters, or what we like to call halftime.   Actually, it's not so much what happened during halftime as much as it is how everyone is reacting to what happened during halftime.  Did I miss something, or were The Who not awesome?  All I keep reading about is how awful the halftime show was, and more specifically how old and decrepit Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend looked.  You know why they looked old?  Because they are!!  Is that some kind of crime?  Who cares!  They sounded incredible!!  Even Mrs. SportDork, who is straight out of the Timberlake camp, commented on how great The Who were - without me even asking!  I probably shouldn't be, but I guess I'm a little shocked at the ageism/shallowness of the American public on this one.  What you heard Sunday during halftime was great classic rock performed by extremely talented musicians.  Not to pull a Kanye, but those guys have more musical talent in their little fingers than Taylor Swift will ever have.  When did we completely lose the ability to appreciate great musicians?  Is it because we're more interested in watching entertainers than musicians?  If you want entertainment at the Super Bowl, bring in Cirque Du Soleil.  But if you're looking for live music (and I mean live music, not lip syncing), you're not going to get any better than what you saw Sunday.  Are Pete and Roger old, and did they look like caricatures of their younger selves?  Sure, but is that what's important?  God forbid there isn't a hard-bodied twenty-something gyrating on the fifty-yard line during halftime who can't even write their own music (or sing, for that matter).  That was real, live music, performed very well, and I'm not just saying that because I was drunk. 

(Wow.  I just read the preceding paragraph, and I sound exactly like my Dad about twenty years ago.  Frightening.)

Here are a couple videos of The Who's halftime performance.  You be the judge!

Rock on, Roger and Pete.

Back to the game.  After the Colts answered the Saints' touchdown to start the third quarter with one of their own, it just kept getting better.  A two-point conversion after a Saints touchdown that was reversed after replay review?  A Peyton Manning pass intercepted and returned for a touchdown by the same guy who intercepted Favre to end the Vikings' season?  Manning getting run over by a huge Saints defensive lineman during the interception return? (And it looked like a block in the back, which made it even better!)  Maybe it's because I had such low expectations for this game, or maybe it's because I finally came to grips with the fact that I don't like Peyton Manning so I was able to put all my mojo firmly behind the Saints, but all I know is that this was the most satisfying Super Bowl I have watched in a long time.  The referees were great (I didn't even notice them, which is the ultimate indication of a great officiating crew), the commercials were great (Betty White getting clobbered in the Snickers commercial was top notch), and as cynical as I am, I couldn't help but get caught up in the Saints' emotion and become a huge Drew Brees fan.  (As an aside - it must have been a blast for the Dolphins' management team to watch the guy they could have signed as a free agent four years ago lead his team to a Super Bowl victory and capture the MVP in their team's stadium.  Mrs. SportDork is so right - Karma really is a b*tch.)

So, I would like to retract everything I said last week about the NFL losing me.  After what I saw on Sunday, I'm back. 

I'm sorry - what?  Goodell wants to consider banning the three point stance? 
http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=ap-superbowl-goodell&prov=ap&type=lgns



Where's Ashton Kutcher?