(Als Exkurs vorneweg: So geht American Football.)

Ein neuer Liebling in meiner Leseliste: Bill Simmons, der Sports Guy von ESPN. Seine Kolumne handelt zwar von – klar – Sport, ist aber gespickt mit Popkulturreferenzen und liest sich einfach klasse. Als eingefleischter Patriots-Fan tat ihm die Niederlage gegen MEINE COLTS besonders weh:

„We had it.

Those are three words you never expect to say as a Patriots fan. Not during the Belichick–Brady Era, anyway. But after a truly remarkable AFC Championship Game – Colts 38, Pats 34 – those were the only three words I kept saying. We had it when we were driving inside the Colts’ 20 with a 21-3 lead. We had it when we kicked the go-ahead field goal with five minutes left. We had it when we stopped Manning three-and-out. We had it on our own 40 with 3:30 to play, needing only a first down to finish the game.

We had it.“

Dann schreibt er genauer über das Spiel, das die Colts meisterhaft umgedreht haben (größte Aufholjagd ever in den NFL-Playoffs) und über Peyton Manning, den unscheinbaren Quarterback der Colts, dem bis jetzt bei jedem großen Spiel die Nerven versagt haben und der durch seine Physis und seinen murmeligen Südstaatenakzent seit Jahren eine gute Zielschreibe für Comedians und Kolumnisten ist, und endet mit:

„Unlike the famous QBs from the ’80s and ’90s (Marino, Elway, Montana, Favre) or even Brady right now, Manning never gives you that feeling that he stepped right off the set of a sports movie to save the day. He’s exceedingly human, dorky and endearing, the kind of guy who might have a giant pimple pulsating on his forehead during a big game. Even as Brady was trying to save the game in the last minute, Manning remained sitting on his own bench, his head bowed, staring at the ground and terrified to look up. Almost like he was sitting in a hospital waiting room awaiting the results of a blood test. He certainly didn’t seem like your typical football hero.

And if Brady had pulled off a miracle in those final 54 seconds, we wouldn’t be discussing Manning for the next two weeks. But that’s the crazy thing about sports: One moment can alter the entire history of somebody’s career. Ask Tony Romo. Ask Earnest Byner. Ask Kevin Dyson. Hell, poor Dan Marino sits there on the CBS studio show bristling every time Boomer Esiason compares him to Manning, with the implication being, “If Manning’s not lucky, he could end up with an unfulfilled career just like Dan the Loser over here.” Sure, you need talent over everything else, but you also need timing and luck, and you need to come through when it counts. Until last night, just like Marino, Manning couldn’t get all four things working at the same time.

Now he’s one win away from putting that “can’t win the big one” label to rest and getting to enter the John Elway Zone – loosely translated to mean, “All right, here’s my ring, now you guys can all shut the hell up and leave me alone.” And if he ends up beating the Bears and winning a Super Bowl, 30 years from now, nobody will remember that the Patriots needed only to convert third-and-4 to win the 2007 AFC Championship Game. They’ll remember that Peyton Manning came back from 18 down, toppled his arch-rival and prevailed in one of the greatest playoff games in NFL history.

Of course, I won’t remember this. I’ll just remember that we had it – we had it – and Manning and the Colts took it away.

(And some day, I might even believe that I just wrote that sentence.)“