In spite of a persistent head cold, I was feeling pretty good over the weekend.
The Thanksgiving football game didn't go Southington's way, but it was a stirring example of how the power of positive thinking, engendered by Cheshire coach Mark Ecke, affected momentum and resulted in his team's thorough execution. The Rams certainly deserved to win and it will be compelling to see if coach Bill Mella can fire his Knights up for Shelton in Tuesday's Class LL semifinal.
Thanksgiving dinner was sumptuous as usual, and the turkey soup that simmered away on Friday sure was soothing for the sinuses, the soul and the stomach. It didn't make it through Saturday.
We had no place to go, so my wife and I watched a whole lot of sports. (Boy did I get lucky! Lisa started out loving baseball and UConn hoops, but now she can't get enough Celtics, NFL and college football action. And we both agree the NHL isn't worth watching). But I digress.
We watched some stirring college games ... Kentucky and Tennessee having at it in overtime, unbeaten Hawai'i on a mission, Missouri beating up on Kansas, only to have the resolute Jayhawks make a game of it. (UConn/WVU? Sorry, but the Huskies never truly belonged in the top 25.)
We grinned when Ray Allen sank an improbable game-winner against Charlotte that was reminiscent of the miracle that D.J. and Bird pulled off in the playoffs against the Pistons the last time the Celts were this good.
With all the appetizers out of the way, Sunday's main course -- Giants-Vikings -- was next on the menu. As the game played out, nobody in this Big Blue household felt much like eating.
The Giants played the most pathetic football game I've seen any team at any level ever play, and I've been watching since the NFL was just something to tide you over until Opening Day.
The Giants should refund all the cash they took from the poor suckers who sat in the cold at the Meadowlands. They simply did not come ready to play ... stupid penalties, a quarterback who has absolutely no clue, an overrated defense that forgot how to tackle.
Eli Manning sure took a proud franchise for a ride when he bilked the Mara's out of millions. Awful is an understatement. You look in his eyes and you see fear. You read his body language and you see apprehension. Ill-fated passes became interceptions, and not just the kind where cornerbacks fall down. Three picks for six? Confidence seeps out of Eli like air out of a slashed tire.
Batted passes. No ability to avoid the rush. Not an elusive bone in his body. He telegraphs passes. Hey, my wife is trying to grasp the full meaning of football. It sets her back when a quarterback's pass hits an offensive linemen in the seat of the pants and an intended receiver's nowhere to be found.
Then there's head coach Tom Coughlin. The worst thing that ever happened to NYG fans was when Big Blue made the playoffs last year and ownership felt compelled to keep him on the job. Stupid penalties. Not enough players on the field. Quarterback not knowing where his receivers are going. Receivers spreading their arms in frustration when they run an outside pattern and see the pass bounce five yards wide. Whose fault is that?
Please, Santa, can you put either Hawai'i's Colt Brennan or Mizzou's Chase Daniel under the Giants ornament on our Christmas tree?
And please, Santa, no worthless playoff berths this year. Use some high-tensile tinsel to strap Coughlin, his coaching staff and Manning to the first westbound train out of Penn Station come New Year's Day, never to darken our HD TVs again.
And with another set of Thanksgiving memories having been stowed away until next November, let it be said that at least we have tonight's sporting fare -- the UConn women against Duke and the Patriots/Eagles -- to forget about the Giants and top off a long and glorious holiday weekend.