Super Bowl weeks were saved by a jinx
by Pete Cunningham
*As printed January 23, 2008 in The Homer Index

When the Giants beat the Cowboys last Sunday, I cringed and a little part of me died inside.

I did not cringe because I cheer against all teams affiliated with the Manning family. I did not cringe because I was once again cheated the opportunity to see T.O. celebrate a touchdown in the Super Bowl. I cringed because the Giants were a mediocre team who had no business in the NFC championship game. I cringed because there was no way New York could compete at Lambeau field with the Green Bay Packers. I cringed because two weeks of pre-Super Bowl hype surrounding Brett Favre were inevitable, and it made me want to vomit. He was going to the Super Bowl, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Then something unimaginable happened. Something historic. Something so unbelievably great, that mere words cannot do it justice. Brett Favre and the Packers - in sub-zero degree temperatures, at home in the playoffs - did the unthinkable. They lost.

What should have been a glorious day of triumph for me and Favre-haters alike was spoiled by the fact that I had banked my column on the assumption that Favre would win. I wrote about how much I was going to hate the gunslinger hype. I dissected ESPN’s Sunday morning pregame to compare how many times Favre was referenced (33) to the three other quarterbacks playing that day (12), counted how many times the cameras zoomed in on his wife during the game (5), the announcer mentioned him having fun (10) and estimated the amount of f-bombs I would drop in the weeks leading up to the Super Bowl (243).

Somewhere along the line I stopped rooting for Favre to fail, and actually wanted him to win. It was late Sunday, it was the only thing close to a column idea I had, and a Packers win was the last piece of the puzzle. Sure, this meant I would have to endure the hated two-weeks about which I had written, but it also meant that my work was done.

A Giants win and I had no column, a Packers win and I could sleep easy. The bell had rung in round 15 of a bout between the devil and angel on my shoulder and the cards were even.

In what can only be described as the most miserable conscious decision of my young life, I decided to gambled on the Pack, cleanse myself in bleach and hot water immediately after the game and never speak of it again. I needed Favre to win. What’s worse, I felt myself wanting him to win despite the fact that he’s ruined more of my Thanksgivings and Sundays than burnt stuffing and church combined. I had officially sold out.

That’s when it happened. The moment I truly needed a Packer victory, it became clear to me that it would not happen. I had jinxed Brett Favre.

You think the secondary coverage and weather conditions played a part in Favre’s interceptions? Hardly. All it took was me having a vested interest in his success. It’s the reason I don’t gamble on sports, and why my friends who do always know who I’m rooting for; so they can go all-in for the other guys. Me betting on a team is as close to a lock for a loss as exists in the world of sports gambling.

So it happened, I actually rooted for Favre, and consequently, he and his Packers are heading to the golf course instead of Glendale. So was it worth it? Was it worth my integrity and self-respect to see Favre leave the field in defeat?Was seeing him lose worth becoming what I loathe? Was that enjoyable to me? Did my reworked and rewritten column offer any solace to the fact that I was what I detest?

Absolutely.