Game over

Wow.

What a game.

More reasons why I love sports and why I can't predict them.

Yesterday, Christine asked me to predict the score. I was stumped, but mumbled something along the lines of 30-23 Patriots.

She got a feeling - 17. She didn't know if that would be the winning or losing score, just that 17 would be involved. Shortly before the game I told her I'd even give her credit if Plaxico Buress wound up being MVP.

He wasn't. But sure enough No. 17 caught the final touchdown pass that ended the game 17-14 Giants.

Too bad that play didn't start on the Patriots 17-yard line. It was only a 12-yard gain - guess Eli didn't get the message.

I did wind up rooting for the Giants last night. Bummed that we have to hear the Dolphins whine every time a team comes close to being undefeated, but I got caught up in the underdog and my own rooting traditions. And to relate this back to baseball, I heard a report that some Giants fans were walking the streets of New York last night chanting Red Sox suck, like Patriots fans were shouting about the Empire in 2001. Maybe we really have switched places.