How TheCity of Atlanta comprised of human vessels of hollow sound became mute after salivating andslobbering all over themselves then biting their own wet, juicy tongues after a bitter offering of New England’s Famous Humble Pie.
The notorious Boston Massacre revisited.
A Tale of Two Half’s
Short and to the point. It was a tale of two teams from two different cities and with two different schemes. Both had big dreams of spectacular extreme. Either way, history were to be made. As everyone witnessed the greatest comeback of NFL history for all decades. Records were set. Records were broken. To watch a man throw for almost 500 yards became more than a symbolic token. Fined and suspended. The outcome couldn’t be more splendid. A beautiful storybook ending espoused.
A Tale of Two Half’s
They’re known to be the San Antonio Spurs of football. The New England Patriots. On one hand there’s the proven blue collar machine factory called, “The System” with the Michael Jordan of football leading the way. He’s a proven quarterback with a history of winning Super Bowl Championships. He’s the ring collector. Tom “Air Jordan” Brady; the reflection of greatness. In the huddle with Tom is his underrated Brady Bunch. Although his rhythm and timing was questionable during the first half it was apparent he found his rhythmic grove in the second half. On the sideline stands his proven coach, the Gregg Popovich of football, Bill Belichick. A man who’s never shaken and never stirred. Bill, the 12th man on the sideline prescribed a prescription and presented a formula then orchestrated a game plan along with the precise decisive halftime adjustments. A ship of a team ready and made to sail. Steady as she goes, manning the ship and staying the course towards a new frontier where no man has ever gone before.
A Tale of Two Half’s
On the other hand there’s the brand new Mercedes Benz stadium that was built. On the same hand is the rise and fall of the flight of the “Dirty Birds”. People in the streets of Atlanta would pass each other expressing the slogan with a smile saying, “Rise Up”. They were loud and proud of their explosive young offensive talent and the MVP of the year at quarterback, Matt Ryan. Overall the MVP failed to launch. He folded in the second half. The audible that wasn’t called. Matt must have heard footsteps because he looked like a scared deer in front of headlights during the entire second half. They had an outstanding offensive scheme that was said to be unstoppable with the best wide receiver in football. Only 21 points scored by the most powerful offense in most important game in their lives. They were a second half no show. The powerful offensive engine that could, but sputtered.
First came the test. Then came the lesson. By losing the battle of attrition the Atlanta Falcons became the mouse with a lions roar who had gotten squashed like a water-bug against the wall by its master. By the end of the 3rd quarter they had the fear of God in their eyes. There isn’t any need to translate. The picture is very clear as Atlanta’s entire season became a blur. The Atlanta Falcons are now known as the bums of Atlanta. The shameful greasy spot of a team who couldn’t “rise up” to the call of duty; an imbrued mirror image of the men who are natives to the city. Very suspect and can’t be trusted.
It was a dream deferred. The offensive glitter became fools gold. Fans whom were proud and loud about their team can be found in the corner crying like a baby. For weeks fans prematurely celebrated in the streets of Atlanta before securing a victory. People were talking about attending the parade, downtown. They laughed about how the city is going to explode when they win the super bowl. They never once thought their balloon would nor could be deflated. They never read the book, “How a super charged defense became spent and overwhelmed”. This high powered offense left the garage without enough gas. It was simply the choking of a franchise that had one hand on the trophy as the other team snatched away their Martin Luther, “I Had A Dream” speech. The Falcons and their fans played themselves. In short, how things aren’t always what it seem. The destruction of a defective band wagon revealed. How a inexperienced southern team was out coached by the blue coats of the north. The poor offensive and defensive adjustment which was never made. The sad and pitiful broken play. The missed field goal. The miscues. The second half disappearing act, at its best. How things fall apart. Possibly, a season to reflect and build upon. This lost will haunt them forever.
A Tale of Two Half’s
As Falcon fans hang their heads, slur words under their breath and search for a place to hideout until next season they are assured to know the sun will come out tomorrow. Atlanta will have to “Rise Up” next year, if they can. Nobody told them boys, birds can’t fly with dirt on there wings and from exhaustion. How a city became so quite one could hear the proverbial pin drop. How a team folded, rolled over, laid down and squatted. A lesson learned for that ass… No pun intended.
Only cream rise to the top. Never count your pigeon eggs before they hatch.
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