“THE MEANINGFUL MEANINGLESS LOSS” and “NASTY AND SUPERBRAT”
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922. NEW YORK GIANTS VS NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS
DECEMBER 29, 2007
GIANTS STADIUM
QUALITY OF PLAY—7.82
DRAMA—6.57
STAR POWER—7.07
CONTEMPORARY IMPORT—7.25
HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE—6.77
LOCAL IMPACT—7.05
TOTAL: 42.53
“THE MEANINGFUL MEANINGLESS LOSS”
The 2007 New England Patriots were, from September until the penultimate game in late-January, the greatest team in league history. They won all of their sixteen regular season games, and two playoff wins placed them on the brink of history. Of course, as any sports fan knows, they fell short, beaten in the Super Bowl by the New York Giants in one of the great upsets in NFL history.
Fans of both teams were treated to what turned out to be a dress rehearsal for the big game on an unseasonably pleasant Saturday night in the Meadowlands to wrap up the regular season. The 15-0 Patriots came to Giants Stadium on December 29, 2007, with everything but history sewn up—the top seed in the AFC, home field throughout the playoffs, and nothing to left to prove, especially on offense, where the team had already set records. Tom Brady led a passing attack that had been totally revivified since losing in the 2006 AFC title game. Most notably, Hall of Fame receiver Randy Moss was brought in to, as the cliche goes, “take the top off the defense.” He and Brady clicked instantly, as did another new addition, superb possession receiver Wes Welker. Coach Bill Belichick oversaw his usual excellent defensive unit. In short, they were outstanding, even if by season’s end they had fallen from their top level of play from earlier in the season.
Famously, there wasn’t anything for the G-Men to play for either— technically. They had already clinched a playoff berth, and were locked into a road trip to Tampa the following weekend. Thing was, however, the Giants needed the snaps. After a quick start the team was 4-3 down the stretch, in large part because quarterback Eli Manning had been playing poorly. In this, Manning’s fourth season in New York, the jury was still very much out on his long term future with the team. After getting blown out by Dallas in Week Nine, Giants co-owner John Mara had publicly questioned whether the team could win it all with Eli at the helm. Two weeks later, Manning had three interceptions returned for touchdowns in a horrid performance. He had played a little better of late but coach Tom Coughlin was in no position to rest Eli and his waffling squad.
The intense interest in the Pats and their pursuit of history forced this Saturday night prime-time game to be televised not only on the NFL Network, where it was originally scheduled, but nationally on both CBS and NBC, as well as local affiliates in Boston and New York (it aired on WOR-TV in the City).
Everyone saw a hell of a game. The Giants showed they were taking it quite seriously when Eli found Plaxico Burress on a 52-yard pass on the second play. The first half was back and forth, with the Giants holding a 21-16 halftime lead, thanks to a pair of Manning TD tosses and a kickoff returned for a score by Domenik Hixon.
Eli to Plaxico, redux, went for another score, and suddenly, the Pats were down 12, 28-16, matching their largest deficit of the season. Incredibly, it seemed as though the quest to match the 1972 Dolphins would stumble at the end. Then the inevitable comeback began, and the Pats turned the 12-point deficit into a 10-point lead in an eyeblink.
A long drive, capped by Laurence Maroney’s short run, made it 28-23. The Pats got the ball back, and Brady uncorked a bomb down the right sideline that found its way into the hands of Moss, who…dropped it. Undaunted, Brady launched another heave on the very next play, and this time, Moss caught it and streaked to paydirt for a 65-yard touchdown, Brady’s 50th TD pass of the season and the 23rd caught by Moss, both new NFL records (Brady’s was subsequently broken by Peyton Manning; Moss still owns his). The two-point conversion made it 31-28, New England.
The swing play came on the next Giants possession, when Manning was intercepted on a pass for Burress. New England, via Maroney, stuck it in the end zone yet again, and now the unbeaten regular season was secure. New York got a late TD to give the final score, 38-35, the respectability the Giants deserved.
The Pats not only finished the regular season unbeaten, matching the ’72 Fish as well as the 1934 and 1942 Chicago Bears (both Bears teams lost in the title game), but set a record for consecutive regular season wins with 19, dating back to 2006.
“Hats off to us,” said Moss. “I know a lot of people didn't think we were going to do it. A lot of people didn't want us to do it.”
But it was the Giants who impressed the millions of fans tuning in for the coronation. As Coughlin said afterwards, “There’s nothing but positives…I don’t know of any better way of getting prepared to play the playoffs.”
“I’ve never seen a locker room so upbeat after a loss,” noted Manning.
AFTERMATH
When the Giants pulled off the stunning upset of the Pats in Super Bowl XLII, ending their run at history, this December game took on a mythos that would extend beyond Big Blue to every team in a position to either rest their starters or play hard in an otherwise meaningless regular season finale—to find the meaning, so to speak. Coughlin’s need to fine tune his squad beyond a glorified scrimmage was mostly forgotten; only the effort counted. Fair or unfair, whenever teams come out stale after sitting players or playing half-heartedly before the postseason begins, the 2007 Giants are invoked.
“Never has a meaningless game carried more meaning,” was the way NFL Films described it, and most players, notably Michael Strahan, in his last season with Big Blue, said the closeness of the game gave the Giants the confidence to know they could beat the Brady-led juggernaut in the Super Bowl. Thankfully, that is what happened…
WHAT THEY SAID
“It was kind of a strange game. It really doesn't mean much to either team, but it means a lot.”
—Tom Brady, New England quarterback
FURTHER READING:
New York Giants Pride: The Amazing Story of the Road to Victory in Super Bowl XLII by Arthur Pincus
VIDEO:
921. JOHN MCENROE VS ILIE NASTASE
U.S. OPEN
SECOND ROUND
AUGUST 30, 1979
LOUIS ARMSTRONG STADIUM
QUALITY OF PLAY—5.56
DRAMA—7.72
STAR POWER—8.84
CONTEMPORARY IMPORT—6.15
HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE—6.94
LOCAL IMPACT—7.33
TOTAL: 42.54
“NASTY AND SUPERBRAT”
Few athletes embody New York, and are as beloved by the local populace, as John McEnroe. John was born in Germany while his father was in the Air Force but moved to Queens as a youngster, where he took up his dad’s favorite game, tennis. He swiftly displayed a virtuosity with the racket which, when combined with his simmering self-lacerations, were the embodiment of the City—flawed, all too human brilliance.
In 1979, the City was certainly more flaw than brilliance, and McEnroe had yet to capture the titles that would make his tempestuous nature seem worthwhile. He had reached the U.S. Open final in Queens the year before, only to be spanked by his smirking rival, Jimmy Connors, in straight sets. He entered the ’79 Open as number three in the world, winner of multiple lesser tournaments, but yet to capture a major; in particular the one a short distance from his home in Little Neck.
“Superbrat” McEnroe was already well known for his on-court outbursts, but he was nothing compared to Ilie “Nasty” Nastase, the Romanian ace whose star was, in contrast to Johnny Mac, in decaying orbit. Nastase had won a pair of majors in the early-70s, and was one of Nike’s first endorsers; by ’79 he had become a caricature, acting the fool on court for kicks, imitating opponents, chatting with fans, pulling down his pants and driving everyone to distraction, mainly as a way to compensate for his declining talents. The “Bucharest Buffoon” was popular with crowds who liked a bit of showtime with their tennis, but was widely loathed by other players and, especially, court officials, whom he berated with profanity-laced tirades and challenged seemingly every match.
The Open was in just its second year at Flushing Meadows after decades at the West Side Tennis Club in Forest Hills, where the courts were clay. Here, at the far larger and spanking new USTA National Tennis Center, the matches were played on hard courts. The faster surface didn’t help any dwindling chances Nastase had of beating McEnroe when the two players met in the second round, on Thursday night, August 30, 1979. There had been no lights at Forest Hills, so tennis action at night was still in its infancy.
After this match, it is a wonder they continued.
Mary Carillo, McEnroe’s friend and fellow New Yorker, was in the crowd watching the match. “New York has a special energy, and the fans were more than willing to jump into the fray,” she said. Nastase played to them incessantly, mocking McEnroe’s antics, telling jokes, in general turning the match into a sideshow for his one-man act. At one point, a boiling McEnroe called his opponent a son of a bitch, which only caused Nastase to tell the umpire: “Make him call me ‘Mister Son of a Bitch’” (his accent wasn’t much different from the one John Malkovich used to play a “Russian” gangster and say those exact words in the movie Rounders).
“I was tired,” Nastase would explain years later to The New York Times. “I was 33 already and not playing much any more. He was 20. I had to pull out all the tricks.”
For all the goofing around, the players managed to play three semi-normal sets, two of which went to McEnroe. He led 2-1 in the fourth set, when, with the clock approaching midnight, Nastase inexplicably reached out and flicked the cap off a line judge with his racket. He then strolled to the baseline, lay down, and refused to play and further.
After multiple warnings, the chair umpire, Frank Hammond, a well-respected arbiter, penalized Nastase a game, making it 3-1 to McEnroe.
That set off perhaps the wildest 20 minutes in U.S. Open history.
The crowd, well-oiled by now, started chanting “Two-one, two-one!!” They peppered the court with debris, including cans of beer that were still being sold at the concessions stands. Several fans tried to storm onto the court itself. Fights broke out throughout the crowd, as the beer muscles took over. Multiple police officers arrived, which only seemed to egg on the chaos. Nastase, with a Cheshire Cat grin, told Hammond the noise was interfering with his serve.
Meanwhile, McEnroe simply stood in place, eerily calm amidst the mayhem.
At wit’s end, Hammond started a 30-second clock and ordered Nastase to serve. When the Romanian refused, Hammond awarded the match to McEnroe. “When they heard that, the people really went crazy,” Nastase said. “They wanted to see the match that night. They paid their money. They didn’t want to see me disqualified.”
In a terrible display of judgment, the Open higher-ups knuckled under to the mob. Hammond was removed as umpire, and the score restored to 2-1. It was a dreadful emasculation; Hammond would be seen sobbing in the press room after the match.
The crowd, at last mollified, settled down, and Nastase resumed play. McEnroe made short work of him, winning the set 6-2 to advance in four sets. “I was amazed by John’s ability to thrive amid all that chaos,” remembered his brother, Patrick McEnroe, then 13 and watching from the stands, well past his bedtime.
The fans who remained gave the players a drunken standing ovation.
AFTERMATH
McEnroe remembered “wanting to punch this guy in the mouth” after the match. Nastase sauntered into the locker room, each arm draped over a stunningly beautiful woman. McEnroe snarled and prepared to charge, but the Romanian immediately disarmed him.
“Hey, Macaroni, where are we going to dinner?”
“All of a sudden, it went from, I’m going to wring this guy’s neck to heading out together for a late night at Patrick’s Pub in Little Neck,” Johnny Mac recalled. Nastase’s mayhem were as genuine as professional wrestling. The tantrums McEnroe threw in his prime were sincere.
McEnroe went on to pummel another New Yorker, Vitas Gerulaitis, in straight sets to capture his first of four consecutive U.S. Opens. His genius was about to overtake his petulance.
WHAT THEY SAID
“I felt a buzz all day. Playing night matches was relatively new, and that’s what made them fun. People had finished work, they could loosen up a bit, have a couple of drinks and then turn rowdy and crazy, potentially. And that’s what happened.”
—John McEnroe
FURTHER READING:
You Cannot Be Serious by John McEnroe and James Kaplan
VIDEO: