Getting Ahead of Yourself

It was a bad omen.

Tom Glavine being booed mercilessly as he sauntered off the field, 7 runs eventually on the board and the Mets season all but over. What hope was there for tonight? A day like this is usually that, a day like this, but fortunately for me I'm one of the rare fans who combines his Mets with the Giants, unlike the horribly unfortunate -- and far more common -- pairing of the Mets and Jets.

As I watched Chad Pennington float, and I mean float, a fourth quarter killer interception in a loss to Buffalo, I truly couldn't imagine the feeling for so many of those oh so common Jets/Mets fans. I just didn't happen to be so unfortunate.

But I felt their pain, especially when watching the Mets game as it went into the increasingly desperate later innings, the cameras often flashed to once-hopeful Mets fans, several with their faces proudly paited blue and orange.

I've always felt for the losing face painters and awed by their commitment to the team. Don't get me wrong I'm as big a fan as anyone -- if I were a bigger fan of any one team my head might explode -- but it's almost because of that that I've never resorted to painting my face. For one, I have no insecurities about my level of commitment. I don't need this public display to demonstrate to anyone that I really care about the outcome. I know I care. You may care as much as me, but I promise you that you don't care more. I also know how much a big loss stings. I remember literally bawling when a Patrick Ewing finger roll somehow found a way to bounce out of the bucket. I was sixteen years old, far past the age when I should have been doing such things. It hurts, it hurts bad.

So why would anyone invite the opportunity to not only endure a brutal loss, but to have to ride home with the shame all over your face? "Mets fan? Ooooh...ouch," the onlookers will say. Who would want to be riding on the subway with other strangers who didn't go to the game, some might even be Yankees fans, knowing that they know exactly the misery you're feeling? Is there any sight more pathetic than a face-painted fan with their heads lowered in shame riding home on the subway. "Tough game, eh?" you can hear people thinking, "Yup, that's a real tough one."

But's symptomatic of another problem we sports fans have and it's one I am just as guilty of doing as the face painters. It's getting ahead of ourselves. You see, he paints his face to support the team, but also because he's already imagining the post-game celebration. It's not even occurring to them how miserable that's going to be if the game doesn't turn your way. You have to think of things like this. You always have to remember there's a long way to go from the start of a game to the finish; even more so, from the start of the season to the end.

I bring this up, because after watching the Giants defense look shockingly dominant albeit against a depleted Eagles team, I'm trying hard to control the urge in myself. I nearly wore my Eli Manning jersey to work, so eager was I to begin puffing out my chest about the resurgent men in blue.

We all know how bad things can go when you make the mistake of getting ahead of yourself. We only need look at one season ago. At 6-2, with a big game upcoming against the Bears I was telling anyone who'd listen that we were going to send a message on Sunday night football. We did. It was the you should never kick to Devin Hester under any circumstances and that the big fat Bears fan sitting behind me was big and fat and I didn't like him. This is what we learned.

The season collapsed from there with things like Kiwanuka not wrapping up Vince Young, right after the a Pacman Jones kick return that my mother told me she found very exciting but my father and I appreciated less, and pretty soon things like this were a regular occurrence until the final kick to the groin that was Jeff Garcia and the Eagles. On a side note: I could deal with losing to a stud like McNabb, but somehow getting beat by a balding, 5'10 qb with the last name Garcia and a World League pedigree was harder to take. And I realize Garcia is a very nice player but anyone who thinks he's better than McNabb should be forced to give up watching sports.

Back to my point. Watching Osi Umenyiora sack the quarterback as though there were no opposition was hard to not get excited about. It appeared Eagles left tackle Winston Justice had some trouble handling him one on one -- that's the kind of analysis you can only get here. Or as Mark Schlereth, or anyone really, might say, "When you're talking about an Osi Umenyiora, you're talking about a guy who can get pressure on the quarterback." At some point they will say something about how he does a good job "coming of the edge." These are highly technical terms known only to astute football analysts. Yet he wasn't alone. The Giants defense looked like, well, a Giants defense. Which was nice to see, because there's just nothing worse than having no defense. It's like having no starting pitching in baseball, going back to earlier in the day. Thus, the Giants recent performance had be getting a little giddy. I realized perhaps a little too giddy.

I'm trying to show some cautious optimism for the rest of the season, especially with the Jets coming into town. The last thing I want to do is get to high and excited and have to watch as old noodle arm carves us up like a turkey. That would be a lot to take. Because while it's impossible to not admire Chad Pennington to a degree, it's also very difficult to watch as he so delicately finds the open man.

So raised expectations can be dangerous. They raise the stakes. I went in to this season cautiously optimistic and that's where I'm trying to stay, so I won't even mention that if the Giants beat the Jets, they'll follow it with Atlanta, San Francisco and Miami, before a bye week. I won't mention that. I won't mention that could put them at 6-2 heading to a visit from the Cowboys. That's getting ahead of myself. I won't even say it.

What I'm saying is, we're basically 6-2. Happy Jets week.