Thanks Billy Cundiff. Thanks a lot.
It was Week 15 in the NFL when I made the bold prediction that the Baltimore Ravens would represent the American Football Conference in the Super Bowl. Yes, I picked those hated Ravens. Yes, I picked them over the Steelers. A cardinal sin 'round these parts (Ha! totally made a avian pun). My buddies informed me that Pittsburgh was the dark horse or dark horses. They would win. I wasn't convinced. I liked Baltimore's chances. It was the strange combination of their stout defense and cocky attitude of their quarterback Joe Flacco and their awesome running game lead my Ray Rice. I looked at their team and though winners.
I looked good when Tebow bounced Pittsburgh out in the Wild Card round. My resolve was strengthened when the Ravens defeated the Houston Texans a week later. And for three quarters of the AFC Championship Game, the Ravens outplayed the dynasty known as the New England Patriots. The Pats came back in the fourth, but the Ravens hung around.
With fifteen seconds left, New England lead 23-20. But Baltimore was driving down the field on the arm of Flacco with assits from the hands and legs of Anquan Boldin. The drive stalled, but the damage was done. Fate called upon Billy Cundiff
All I needed was for Cundiff to make a chip-shot 23 yard field goal to send the game into overtime. Anything can happen in overtime. Anything! I was still on the verge of being called 'the guy that called it'. I was still in the hunt of looking like a freaking genius. I was--
He fucking missed it! That damn thing didn't have a chance once it left his fucking toe!
So I'm not 'that guy'. I'm not smarter than my friends. Hell, I'm another victim of Tom Brady.
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