Is it Sunday Yet?

I've been going to games pretty much my whole life. I was blessed with a grandfather who was fortunate enough to go to college with Wellington Mara and wise enough to make sure that they became friends. When he went through some tough times due to a failing business, Well bailed him out with an offer to come work for the Giants. When you're in your fifties and suddenly in need of work, bail out doesn't exactly do it justice, act of God would probably be more appropriate.

Even better, he would basically spend the majority of his time for the rest of his days playing in charity golf and tennis tournaments with the likes of Lawrence Taylor and Phil Simms, thanks to the cushy gig his old friend had set him up with. It's enough to make you look at your own friends and hope at least one of them is getting to work.

As a result, my family has been one of the lucky ones who hasn't waited desperately on the elaborate Giants waiting list and we've had season tickets for my entire life. As such, I've gone to many games. My father has turned his Sunday tailgate into something of an art form, in fact, art form doesn't begin to adequately describe the majesty that is his epic Sunday feasts.

So why am I telling you this? Because I'm spoiled that's why. Spoiled with Giants that is. I've seen too many big games over the years, taken it for granted. You see, my old man is out of town for the next two weeks and so there will be no tailgate, I wouldn't dare try to even offer some hopeless representation of my own, and with the upcoming game taking place at Sunday night I'm considering not even going.

And this is the dilemma. Because to me, this decision has far more to do with the outcome of this Sunday's game than Plaxico Burress's ankle -- which hopefully will be ok -- or Brandon Jacobs knee -- which thanks to Derrick Ward has been less of an issue. Yes, in my demented head, somehow the decision of whether I go to the game could very well decide the outcome.

I still blame myself for the 2000 Super Bowl. My parents were out of town and rather than organize a small gathering of die hard Big Blue fans, I threw a massive party that quickly got out of hand. By the time the game started to turn ugly, I was even uglier, on my way to being completely blacked out before eventually engaging in a rather unfortunate hook up in my parents bedroom. I still recall my friend asking the next morning, "Who was that oompa loompa bitch you hooked up with last night?" I think that says it all.

Here's the thing about going to the games, especially when they start at 8:15. It's hard to get out there and it's hard to get back. If they win, of course, it all feels worth it, but if they lose you're standing in a ridiculously large line awaiting the bus you have to take so that you can get to the subway you have to take so you can walk home. Your Monday morning feels like it's a death sentence. If my pops were going it would be a no-brainer. The fresh mozzarella and the sausage and peppers would eliminate all doubts. And even following a 30-10 drubbing his burgers still taste as good. But alas he won't be there, so can an Aramark hot dog possibly compensate. I'm just not sure.

On the other hand, it's the Eagles. The Eagles on national television. The crowd will be into it. The game is important. I have tickets. How do you just not go? There's people who would kill for those seats.

Well, I'm not going, but here's where I hope I've made concessions to Karma that we won't be punished. I gave the tix to a big Giants fan who's been to a few games in his life free of charge. The look of astonishment on his face was worth the price of admission. Plus, knowing that you're giving another fellow fan the chance to see our boys up close and personal is good enough for me. Hopefully, that will be enough to redeem for choosing to watch the game in the comfort of my own home in breathtaking HDTV.

Besides, this Giants team has been torture the last few years. Two years ago when they went 11-5 they won every game at home. Every week you wondered why you couldn't do this every day. It was a Sunday party every week. Last year, they lost nearly every time they showed up in Giants Stadium and you woke up every Monday wondering what kind of an idiot chooses to go to the stupid games rather than watch them on tv.

And if this Giants team is one thing, it's unpredictable. I truly have no idea how they'll play when they take the field. They could go out there and look great and win the game, or they could get absolutely annihilated. The defense could appear stout, the line get pressure, the secondary do the job, or they could be run roughshod over and passed on with ease. It's a crapshoot. And though, it may torture us, it may nearly give us a heart attack, it's also kind of fun. The Giants are an interesting team. At times, Eli throwing to Plaxico and Shockey can look like the surest thing in the world, at other times it can look the opposite. At times all those pass rushers on defense can look like world beaters, other times they can't get within miles of the well protected passers. As we know, Brandon Jacobs may play and he may even play well. Or he may be completely ineffective. He may not even play at all. It's all possible.

I suppose we'll just have to live with it.

So please don't judge me for bailing out on my team. I promise I'll be there for the rest of the season and will meet them at the gates. Here's hoping I gave out just enough karma to take down the Eagles on Sunday.

Happy watching.