Near the end of the Super Bowl yesterday, a friend texted, "What happened to the Broncos?" I texted back: "Total collapse when it mattered most. Inexplicable."
That was a flip, spur-of-the-moment comment, but I wouldn't change it today except to perhaps make it a little more artful. Reading the mountain of commentary hasn't made it more understandable. Stuff like this:
We got the matchup we wanted, but not the game we long dreamed of seeing.
[. . .]
I suppose it was a fresh reminder to be careful what we wish for when it comes to Super Bowls. The NFL's glamor game has been so good, with close competitive games for so long now, that we almost forgot what this kind of dud felt like. The game that we waited months for finally arrived Sunday night. And then it was over almost before it began. It was a great memory for the Seahawks and their loyal fans. But for the uber-flat Broncos and the rest of the football-watching world, it felt like a loss.
Yeah, well, tell me something I don't know. The matchup we wanted but not the game we dreamed of, and shame on us for having such high expectations.
But our expectations should have been high. When you really do get the best teams (which doesn't always happen), when you have the No. 1 offense playing the No. 1 defense, it should be a nail-biter decided in the last few minutes if not seconds. But that does require both teams to be playing their best games, and isn't that what we should expect and demand in the season-deciding final game? It wasn't just that one team was off its game. It was like they weren't even trying.
Maybe committing that safety on the very first play from scrimmage sapped their will or something. Whatever caused the lack of energy and enthusiasm seemed to affect everyone. The announcing was mediocre, hell even the commercials shot weeks or months before seemed lame.
Inexplicable, I thought yesterday, and inexplicable I say today.
