Picture Perfect

This is how football should always be, like the divisional playoff game Saturday night between the Packers and my (well, almost) Chicago/St. Louis/Phoenix/Arizona Cardinals, won by the Cardinals 26-20 in overtime.  Holy Johnny Unitas, what a game.

Green Bay got the ball on their own four-yard line down by seven with 55 seconds left in the game and their season.  Not to worry, not with Aaron Rodgers at the helm.  (Is it possible to both hate and admire a player at the same time the way I do Rodgers?)  With time expiring, Rodgers let go a 41-yard Hail Mary in the end zone.  Of course, his receiver caught the ball.  We’re not talking the Chicago Bears here.  Score tied, the game goes into overtime.

Enter the Cardinals’ Carson Palmer, who in quarterback years is more than twice as old as I am.  On the first play from scrimmage, Palmer scrambled to his right, threw against his body and hit receiver Larry Fitzgerald, who proceeded down the side line for a 75-yard gain.  Two plays later, Palmer underarmed a five-yard shovel pass—let me repeat, a shovel pass—to Fitzgerald for the winning touchdown.  The forces of evil will now go into hibernation until July, give or take a few voluntary team workouts.

There may be people out there who felt the game lacked sufficient violence, but not me.  At the risk of repeating myself, I like football best when concussion-like hits can be avoided.  For examples, see above.

And far be it from me to make fun of any of the 65,089 fans in attendance, but why did they go?  I had a perfect seat on the couch, unlike that half of the crowd sitting opposite of the Rodgers’ and Palmer touchdown drives.  You could argue it’s the same for baseball, and maybe it is.  But an infield seat (lower deck only) allows me to see the hitter-pitcher duel up close along with all the infield play while an outfield seat lets me watch the outfielders up close and still get a decent glimpse of the action happening in the infield.  Maybe it all depends on what sport you love most.