19 and NOT: I missed it!

Well the Patriots choked. Tom Brady had laughed at the prediction of Plaxico Burris that the Patriots would score 17. I guess Plaxico was giving the Pats too much credit.

(With apologies to Michael Vick.) I didn't have a dog in this fight. I am fan of neither team. I would have liked to see the Pats win to smack that hoity-toity smirk off the faces of those old grouches: the '72 Dolphins. (Yeah. We get it. They were a great team. Shut up, now.)

I am also glad that the Giants won, because I don't care for Belichick.

The thing is: I missed all of it. About one minute into the game, my son (the 7-year-old who wound up in the ER at camp last summer) complained that his arm hurt and couldn't move it. So my wife and I trekked to the urgent care. We waited, and waited, and waited. All the while the TV in the lobby was tuned to the Biggest Loser. Just before half-time, I changed the channel. Then we were called back, and waited some more. X-rays, poking and prodding took place. They determined it was likely a small break at the elbow. They did not see a definite break on the x-ray, but they saw some swelling on the x-ray that concerned him. They splinted him up and put his arm in a sling. We were then off. I switched on the radio in the car and listened to the last two desperate Tom Brady passes.

From what I have heard on the local news, I didn't miss much because our pitiful local Fox affiliate botched up the transmission. It seems they mess up every big event. A few years ago during the World Series they kept losing the signal. During the Giant-Cowboys playoff game, they completely lost the sound for half the game. I guess that is what you get with drunk hamsters running a TV station.