Sans Gmen, Sunday was still Super

Even I am starting to tire of the Whopper Sacrifice, but it’s still not going away. Friday night, yet another strange chapter of the story was written, but we can get to that in a minute. In fact, just scroll down to the next post if you really want more of the story that made Schiff Happens famous, because Super Bowl Sunday has to take precedence in this particular weekend recap.

Last year, the year of the still most glorious Super Bowl ever, I had just moved to NYC, but ventured across the Hudson to Hoboken to watch the Jersey Giants in all their surreal Super glory. In fact, I went back and forth twice, having gone over Saturday to prepare the annual Super Chili. This year, though I was sadly without my beloved GMen, I celebrated the anniversary by jaunting across a different river with a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. My dear friend and fellow internet celebrity Julia, who some may remember from her Vanity Fair e-date at the Waverly Inn or the Monday Night Raw Kiss Cam, successfully got me to leave my crib at the painfully-early-for-me-on-a-Sunday hour of high noon and meet her at City Hall for a Super stroll across one of the single coolest New York and American icons I can think of. The weather was beyond perfect for the City in January – in the 40s and cloudless – and the walk was picturesque, refreshing, downright therapeutic even. We didn’t hang around much in BK, and didn’t get pizza knowing that we had much deep fried, ranch-glazed Super grub to consume later. However, I did eat Wendy’s and see a Zams (sadly after my camera had died), both of which were firsts in a while (an effing long while in the case of Zams pressed sandwiches, and you’d better believe I was ready to take down at least three of the delicious one I used to get at Freehold Raceway with chicken, bacon, American, tomato, fries and honey mustard. I believe it was called a “Number 7.” Sweet, sweet Number 7…)

/wipes away drool

Anyway, the Brooklyn Bridge walk was a great start and I’d absolutely do it again. By the time the game rolled around I was in truly high spirits. Once again chili was prepared on Super Saturday, although this year I did transport it a short distance to the Super Shindig.

And of course, there was the game, which, you may recall, was pretty damn good. At this point, you’ve probably consumed all that you care to about it, so I don’t really need to recap it. And since I was recently told I should get on twitter, now is as good a time as any to test my abbrevs and twitability. So here we go, Twitter practice – The 140-character Super Recap:

steelrs rollin-maybe game ova. BOSS TIME. 4th quarter insanity. Fitz is ridic. Like rly good. Wtf was that? Miracle catch 4 the win! CGs to Steelers. Best SB ever? No way
about 10 seconds ago from couch
SCHIFF_HAPPENS

Not bad at all, methinks. Still not sure I’m ready. I need some sort of Twitter Miyagi to guide me.

Well, that sucked [I hate everybody]

"Hello, you've reached the Giants' coaches box. Sorry we can't take your call right now, we're busy scheming our next third-and-fail. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you if we wake up."

Aaaaaand NFL season is over - that was quick! Thanks for the great effort, Giants. It was a great season and a classic battle yesterday that neither team could have been ashamed to lose. Maybe not so much, but thanks for showing up and playing like you wanted it. Thanks for showing up at all? Alright, does anybody want to tell me what the eff that was all about yesterday? Eli? Coach Coughlin? Sweet Jesus, has anybody seen Dave Tyree?

Thanks to the GMen deciding to roll over and die yesterday (because who wants a clear path to a second straight Super Bowl, really?), I now get to endure yet another week at work, this time with no football light at the end of the tunnel but an absolute Suckfest of a championship round which will ultimately send either the Iggs or the Buzzsaw that is the Arizona Cardinals to the Super Bowl. Allow that to sink in for a moment. ::Throws up all over keyboard::

This disaster says nothing of the battery of texts and emails I've received since the end of the gamy yesterday, most of which were sent from fans and residents of the city that pretty much invented losing. The worst part is that aside from remaining much better looking, I don't have shit to say back to these animals (although you all should probably prepare for facebook to notify you that I've sacrificed your friendship for a Whopper). From the outset the Giants didn't have it, they never looked like they wanted it, and really, they got their asses thoroughly whupped by a better team for a full 60 minutes. There was no phase of the game in which the Giants demonstrated any sort of superiority, confidence, effort, intelligence - shall I continue?

Lucking out on a safety and settling for 5 field goal attempts - 2 of which were missed by John "Skeletor" Carney - without even sniffing the end zone on 5 red zone possessions is generally not a game plan for success. Then again, neither is 3-for-13 on third down. And I haven't even mentioned yet the fact that Eli decided to revert back to his rookie year and play like a steaming hot pile of garbage. Someone needs to tell him that you don't always have to follow in your brother's footsteps. Maybe young Elisha saw big brother go down in the first round last week and decided that they could use all the extra time they could get to prepare for their big Double Stuf race against the Williams sisters. Seems possible, considering that the Giants were A) doubly stuffed in the fourth quarter as they twice failed to convert on fourth-and-short (neither play was even close, and if anyone wants to explain the QB sneak with inches to gain, please go right ahead), and B) outwitted and outplayed by Double Stuf personified.

However, I can't lay it all on Eli. Maybe Coach Spags should have been spending a little less time interviewing for head coaching jobs and a little more time designing a defensive scheme for THIRD-AND-FUCKING-TWENTY!!! Did we really just forget all about this???

There's so much more that I could say about one of the most miserable playoff performances I've ever witnessed by one of my favorite teams, but it's Monday, I'm depressed, I still hate Philly (maybe now more than ever) and it's fuh fuh freezing in New York City. How long until baseball starts? This is miserable.

Help me, Mark Teixeira. You're my only hope.

Back from the Blackout

And..... we're back!

Okay, so I went a little AWOL there for the last week or so, but I'm back to kick start the new year, and that's the important thing. I know some of you are saying, "Oh sure, anyone can come back strong after a week of hungover inactivity." Well this was hard for me, so BACK OFF!

To get things rolling again, I'll be attempting to get on here throughout the day and post some of the things that eluded me in my post-holidays New Year's haze. First things first, while shaking off the cobwebs this weekend, there was football! Aside from me going 3-for-4 with my Wild Card round picks, the most exciting thing to happen in the NFL this past weekend was that the matchups were set for next weekend's Divisional Round, aka the greatest playoff round in sports.


Of greatest relevance to Schiff Happens Universe is of course the rubber match between the Filthadelphia Fightin' Westbrooks and the mighty mighty Super Champs of the World, the New Jersey GGGGGGGGMEN. Each of these teams beat their division rival in their opponent's house during the regular season, but expect the GGGGGGGMEN to handle their Big Blue business and, taking a cue from my new favorite Boomer & Carton caller Incarcerated Bobby from Hoboken, do a tap dance all over ChunkySoup McNabb's head Sunday in the Meadowlands. Just look back at last year's playoff run and see what happened when teams tried to beat the Giants for a third time.

Clearly Schiff Happens is already feelin' kinda Sunday, so lets do something special and revel in Iggle Indignity all week long. Together, we can give the nation's ugliest city the proverbial "Suck It." I'll get things rolling here with some anti-Philly fun that everyone in the blue seats can appreciate, but please feel free to contribute. Yes We Can!