Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
I don’t talk football here often, but following the shellacking my Indianapolis Colts took during last night’s AFC Championship Game, I would be remiss if if I didn’t say something.
I am a Colts fan. Have been since March 29, 1984 — the day the Colts became Hoosiers.
As much as I’ve loved the Colts for these past 30 years, I’ve hated the Patriots for nearly as long. First as our division rivals, then as a near-impassable roadblock in the conference playoffs.
To make matters worse, the Andrew Luck era has been a dismal failure in regard to this rivalry.
In four meetings the Patriots have scored 189 points compared to the Colts’ pathetic 73. And yes, that’s four straight losses for the Luck led Colts, punctuated by last night’s 45-7 beatdown.
No joy in Mudville? Hell, at least Casey got a swing and a miss. We didn’t even show up for the game.
I love the Colts. I loved them when they were 1-15 in ’91 and I loved them when they went 14-2 in ’05 and ’09. Win or lose, they’re my team. I always hope for the best with the guys with the horseshoe on their helmets. And, deep down, I sort of root for the Patriots too. Why? Because I want us to beat them, fair and square, on the field of battle.
This year was not that year.