Triumph of the Heart

Last night's women's figure skating conclusion at the Winter Olympics was not as emotional as I expected it to be, but it was emotional enough.

Perhaps it would have been more emotional if Canada's Joannie Rochette, carrying the burden of her grief over the sudden death of her mother less than a week ago, could somehow have leaped past her two main rivals, Korea's Kim Yu–Na and Japan's Mao Asado.

But their performances were simply too great, and the top three after Tuesday's short program remained the top three after the long program. When last night's competition came to an end, Kim Yu–Na received the gold medal, Mao Asado took the silver and Rochette captured the bronze.

I suppose Rochette would have broken down if she had been awarded the gold — and someone almost surely would have said that her mother's spirit had intervened on her behalf. As it was, she earned a medal, which had been her and her mother's goal, but she didn't win the competition against two superior foes, which would have implied supernatural influence.

Personally, I'm not sure how I feel about talk of deceased relatives interceding in earthly activities. It seems to me that, if such a thing were true, it would not have been possible for the global economy to turn as sour as it did, leaving millions without jobs. There would have been too many dead parents stepping in to prevent their children from being terminated.

But that, I suppose, is a different discussion.

Certainly, Rochette's performance was courageous. As I watched, I couldn't help but think of my own experience when my mother died and I had professional obligations to meet before I could allow myself to grieve. Before and after her performance on Tuesday, Rochette appeared to be an emotional wreck, but she put everything on the shelf while she was on the ice and skated brilliantly. I wasn't competing in the Olympics so there weren't millions of people watching me, but I didn't have to have that in common with Rochette. I know how personal loss can weigh on someone.

By last night, I guess Rochette had had a little more time to adjust to her loss. There were moments when she had to dab her eyes, especially when the medals were being awarded, but she did not seem as emotional as she had two nights earlier. She completed a complex program and received a score that represented a personal best. We'll never know if any of the judges gave her a little leeway in light of her personal pain, but her performance merited a medal.

I've been wondering how she would have done if she had been competing using the scoring system that was in use in the days when many of the legends of figure skating competed in the Olympics.

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In the old days, figure skating was different. Competitors still had to do well in the short and long programs, but they also had to do well in the "compulsory figures" (also known as the "school figures").

If you're under 30, you probably have no memory of that part of the competition — which is probably just as well. When modern figure skating enthusiasts think of competition, they probably think of thrilling leaps and spins on the ice. The compulsory figures were the direct opposite. They were the slow, tedious carving of patterns in the ice with one's skates — the "basics" of figure skating.

The judges stood to the side and watched as the skaters went through the procedures, then made precise measurements of the figures before arriving at their scores.

In my mind, I always equated it with having a deep sea fisherman demonstrate his worthiness to be hired for a fishing crew on the basis of his ability to tie basic knots.

For TV viewers, it was marginally more exciting than watching paint dry.

It was possible, I guess, for a figure skater to not do well in the compulsories and still do well in the competition, but, until 1968, the compulsories were worth 60% of a contestant't final score. Thus, it was necessary to at least do well in the compulsories to have a chance at a medal.

The influence of the compulsories began to decrease as television became more prominent. By the time Dorothy Hamill won the gold medal in 1976, the compulsories were worth less than half of her final score. And when Kristi Yamaguchi won the gold in 1992, the compulsories were no longer part of the Olympic competition.

But, if you look at the attached video, you will see that the compulsories required a great deal of concentration. And, since the compulsories typically were the first segment of the competition, it is reasonable to assume that, if they were still part of the competition in 2010, Rochette and the other skaters would have been scheduled to do them on Sunday, which was the day Rochette's mother died.

Instead, though, Rochette had time to prepare for the short and long programs. She didn't have to focus on school figures when more pressing matters were on her mind.

And she — and her homeland — were rewarded with an Olympic memory for the ages.

Miracle on Ice, Part II?

Women's figure skating has been one of the marquee events in the Winter Olympics for a long time, but it has seldom had the emotional impact that it has this year.

That was clear last night during the short program competition. But, if you missed it, it should be even more evident — as well as more emotional — tomorrow night, when the women perform their long programs and medals are awarded.

Surely, on that night, viewers will once again hear the story of how Canadian skater Joannie Rochette's mother died of a heart attack shortly after arriving in Vancouver for the Olympic Games. And they will see video of Rochette's astonishing, virtually flawless performance in the short program that vaulted her into third place.

Her strength in these competitions, though, is the long program, and it is for that reason that many observers, especially her fellow Canadians, are hopeful that she will overtake the leader, South Korea's Kim Yu–Na, and/or Mao Asada of Japan, who is currently in second place.

Whether she will remains to be seen. But, barring an unexpected collapse by Rochette or one of the other two, those three are likely to be the ones who receive the medals in women's figure skating. No doubt Rochette would like to win the gold in her mother's memory. But any medal will suffice, I'm sure. The sight of it will always be a reminder of what she lost, but it will also be a reminder of what she accomplished in spite of heart–breaking tragedy.

Four years ago, in Italy, the top Olympians from America probably were speed skater Apolo Ohno and figure skater Sasha Cohen.

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Ohno captured gold, but Cohen took silver — disappointing, perhaps, to Americans who were conditioned to believe that America's female figure skaters always would prevail.

In some ways, it is hard to understand why that belief persisted into the 21st century. Perhaps it was a hangover from 1968, when Peggy Fleming won the gold medal. She wasn't the first American to do that, but she was the first after television had become a fixture in most American homes. So Americans like Tenley Albright (1956 gold medalist) and Carol Heiss (1960 gold medalist) were forgotten in the euphoria that was brought on by Fleming's victory.

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In due course, Fleming herself took a backseat to the woman who became "America's Sweetheart" eight years later — Dorothy Hamill. With her dazzling smile and distinctive hairstyle, Hamill captured hearts as well as the gold medal ...

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... perhaps setting the stage for impossibly high expectations that went unfulfilled for more than 15 years — until Kristi Yamaguchi took the gold medal in 1992.

Two years later, the Winter Olympics were held again after the decision had been made to hold the Summer and Winter Olympics in diferent years. Once again, Americans expected one of their own to win the gold medal, and attention was focused on the battle between Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan. But Kerrigan won the silver and Harding, who was implicated in the plot to attack Kerrigan at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, finished eighth.

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I must admit that I always felt the Harding–Kerrigan competition, which led to the infamous assault on Kerrigan the month before the Games, was an indication of the folly of America's provincialism. Kerrigan was attacked by a friend of Harding's ex–husband, but their logic reflected the attitude of most Americans. The winner at the Olympics would be one of the Americans. It was that sense of entitlement.

Perhaps, if she had not been attacked, Kerrigan would have won the gold. But we'll never know if her performance was affected. Anyway, she was said, at the time, to have recovered quickly from her injuries.

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It was also said at the time that Kerrigan's performance at the 1994 Games was the best of her career. Yet she finished second to Oksana Baiul of the Ukraine.

Tara Lipinski was the next American to win a gold medal in figure skating, earning a narrow victory over Michelle Kwan at the 1998 Olympics in Japan. She was succeeded by American Sarah Hughes in 2002. So, in spite of Cohen's silver medal in 2006, Lipinski and Hughes restored the aura of American dominance of the sport.

It will be interesting to see what happens this year. But it seems clear to me that, barring a truly unforeseen development, "The Star–Spangled Banner" will not be played for the women's figure skating medalists in 2010.

The Miracle on Ice

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There are moments in life that are unique.

Sometimes it's obvious. You know when they happen that you will always remember where you were and what you were doing when those moments occurred.

Most of the time, they seem to be moments you wouldn't want to repeat — like September 11 or the JFK assassination. But, from time to time, a moment comes along that is so inspirational, so uplifting that you wish you could experience it again and again.

Today is the 30th anniversary of such a moment. It was on this day in 1980 that the U.S. Olympic hockey team upset the powerful Soviets in Lake Placid, N.Y., and went on to win the gold medal a few days later.

I really thought somebody would show the movie "Miracle" today, but, if it is being shown, I haven't been able to find it in the listings. At the very least, I thought ESPN Classic would show a replay of the game, but that doesn't seem to be the case, either.

Apparently, though, some people are trying to recapture the feeling. Craig Custance of The Sporting News wrote the following about yesterday's victory over Canada in the Olympics: "If the Americans can play the role of favorite as well as they have the underdog, they're a serious threat to win [the gold medal]."

Fortunately, some people kept their perspective. "USA Hockey's win over Canada was hardly 'Miracle 2.0,' " writes Dan Shanoff.

With all due respect to the 2010 U.S. Olympic team and what it has accomplished so far, this is not 1980 and the Canadians are not the fearsome foes that the Soviets were — although, in some ways, the times are similar.

It's kind of hard to explain — if you aren't old enough to remember it — what a shot in the arm that victory was for the entire country. It was more than a game. It was about a beaten and bloodied America bouncing back in spite of the hostages in Iran, in spite of a recession and high unemployment.

Seems like a lot for a bunch of college kids to carry on their shoulders, but that was what those hockey players represented to millions of Americans who wanted to feel good about their country again. That became their mission, at least as far as the American public was concerned. They were standing in for the millions of Americans who had had it up to here, who were mad as hell and weren't going to take it anymore.

After the U.S. hockey team prevailed over the heavily favored Soviets, the accomplishment was dubbed the "Miracle on Ice." Two years ago, when the International Ice Hockey Federation marked its 100th anniversary, it chose the U.S. victory as the #1 international hockey story of the century.

I don't believe that anyone who watched that game could ever forget it — or how they felt as sportscaster Al Michaels counted down the final seconds and uttered his legendary call as time ran out: "Do you believe in miracles? YES!" Just watching the clip at the top of this post brings the memories rushing back, and I feel the same chill run down my spine that I felt on that Friday 30 years ago.

I've never been a hockey fan. Most Americans probably wouldn't call themselves hockey fans. But the members of that U.S. team — Jim Craig, Mark Johnson, Mike Eruzione, coach Herb Brooks and all the rest of the squad — became latter–day American heroes. And, after that game, everyone in America was a hockey fan.

Until the end of the Olympic Games, anyway.

Two days after the Americans beat the Russians, I recall watching Jim McKay talking on ABC as the network prepared to televise the gold medal game. He told the audience about a conversation he had had with his wife earlier that morning. "This will be a first for you," he said he told his wife, "watching sports on TV on a Sunday morning."

He smiled as he recalled her reply: "I know — and to watch hockey!"

How big was it? When Sports Illustrated ran the picture of the Americans celebrating, there was no caption or headline. That's the only time in SI's history that a cover photo did not have any "cover language." "It didn't need it," the photographer said. "Everyone in America knew what happened."

A year later, a made–for–TV film about the U.S. hockey team was shown on the small screen. It was OK, although even casual hockey observers could tell that Karl Malden was more than two decades older than Brooks. If it had anything going for it, it was the way it incorporated actual game footage, giving viewers an opportunity to relive a moment when they not only felt free to dream again but also to hope again.

It wasn't until nearly 25 years later that the story of the U.S. hockey team finally made it to the big screen with a cast that was plausible. I thought the movie was great. But I couldn't help wondering why it took a quarter of a century for someone to make a genuine dramatization of that accomplishment. Surely there were times in the intervening years when America needed the inspiration that hockey team provided the Americans of 1980.

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Well, a recession has hammered America in the last couple of years, leaving more people filled with self–doubt than I have seen in my lifetime. Perhaps now, 30 years after that truly amazing achievement, this generation's hockey team will step forward and do the unthinkable — and inspire us to rise above our circumstances.

Beating Canada yesterday was big, but it wasn't really comparable to the win over the Soviets 30 years ago — even if the Canadians were wearing red uniforms.

At the end of "Miracle," some text appears on the screen dedicating the film to Brooks' memory. The film had been completed just before Brooks was killed in a single–vehicle crash at the age of 66.

Brooks never saw "Miracle," the dedication read. "He lived it."

And so did we all.

Tiger's Apology

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"Whenever someone says, 'This is not about money' — it's about money."

H.L. Mencken

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I read a lot of H.L. Mencken when I was younger. And I remember reading this — or something like it — when I was in college.

Mencken was a prolific writer, though, so I can't say I remember precisely where I read that. And I can't say that my quotation is exact.

But I think you can get the gist of it, can't you? The essence of it has stayed with me all these years so if my wording isn't exactly what Mencken's was, forgive me. Pay attention to the message, not the messenger.

And this messenger believes everyone has an agenda — and some of them are brazen enough to protest that they don't have an agenda while everything about their public actions and language says that they do.

I guess it was for that reason, more than any other, that I found Tiger Woods' apology today insincere.

Cam Inman of the Bay Area News Group called Woods' "scripted" statement "awkward."

I thought it was awkward, too, but for what may be different reasons.

Woods didn't exactly say, "This isn't about sex," although, clearly, it is. And he didn't say, "This isn't because I'm a reckless, self–centered individual," although he certainly appears to have been one.

So why did Mencken's statement keep running through my head? When did it start? I think it may have been the point when he said he "stopped living by the core values that I was taught to believe in." So far, so good. I admit, he had me for a little while, when he said he only thought about himself and how he felt a sense of entitlement.

But then came the clanger, as far as I was concerned.

"Thanks to money and fame, I didn't have to go far to find them," he said, speaking of the "temptations" that had gotten the better of him.

As if he was really saying, "Gee, you know, I've got this terrible character flaw, but I was doing a real good job, a commendable job of keeping it under control ... darn that fame and fortune! It made it all too easy, too accessible. I mean, come on, what's a guy to do?"

Maybe it was wrong of me, but I kept thinking of the recordings I've heard of the last interview with serial killer Ted Bundy. Have you heard them? They were made the night before his execution. Evangelical Christian James Dobson conducted the interview. In it, Bundy kind of hints that he knows more than he's telling — probably a ploy to obtain an extension — and then talks about pornography as the "root" of his problem.

He didn't exactly blame pornography for his crimes, but he strongly implied that it played a key role.

Well, guess what? Lots of people look at pornography, but I would say that relatively few of them go around cracking girls' skulls open with whatever heavy club they can get their hands on.

Obviously, it isn't that dramatic — or deadly — in Woods' case, but I think the pass–the–buck mindset is the same. Lots of people have been blessed with fame and fortune, but relatively few squander them.

Then, in what I can only assume was intended to appear to be an indication of his selflessness, he pleaded with the media to leave his family alone. "They did not do these things; I did."

There it is, the confession — and the reminder. This is about Tiger — not his mother, not his wife, not his children. Like many things, I think this began as something entirely different, but now it's about who is in the spotlight. The attention may be bad, but it is still attention.

It can't be about money. He's a millionaire several times over. I think, at this point, it's a craving (possibly one of which he is not consciously aware) to have the spotlight all to himself — Tiger Woods, the essentially good guy who was the victim of fame and fortune.

So if anyone (especially Tiger) tells you this isn't about Tiger, trust me ... it's about Tiger.

Some Thoughts on the Eve of Daytona 500

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I grew up in the South.

Regional stereotypes suggest that I should be a hunter, a fisherman, a devotee of auto racing.

Well, I guess I defy pigeonholes, but I have never owned a gun, I used to fish occasionally but it was never a burning passion of mine, and I have never been a fan of auto racing.

But I have an old childhood friend who tells me she has become quite a NASCAR fan. She admits she had her reservations initially, knowing NASCAR's reputation as a redneck activity.

And I can assure you, if you grew up in Arkansas (or, probably, any other place in the American South), you didn't need Jeff Foxworthy to come along to give you instructions in redneck culture. You already knew.

As I told my friend recently, I have always been proud of my Southern heritage. I may not embrace some Southern pastimes — like hunting or fishing or stock car racing — with the enthusiasm of many of my fellow Southerners, but I have always believed that there is a lot more "there" there than folks in other parts of the country would have you believe.

I've always resisted regional stereotypes, like the general impression that Southerners are ignorant. I don't think anyone would think my friend was ignorant. She was probably the most intelligent person in my high school class.

And, when we knew each other in high school, she wasn't a NASCAR fan. But it's been a taste that she has acquired as an adult. And now she tells me that she enjoys the "ins and outs" of the sport.

I don't know if I would call it a "sport." I live in a densely populated area, where seeing many cars on the road at the same time is nothing special. And "sport," to me, has always suggested some sort of athletic skill. I see no athleticism involved in sitting behind a wheel and pressing an accelerator with your right foot.

Now, I will admit that I've always enjoyed horse racing. Some people might argue that there is little difference between auto racing and horse racing, but I disagree. I think there is an element of athleticism involved in riding an animal, even if it is mostly a matter of being shorter and lighter than most people. And, at a time when there are heightened concerns about fuel efficiency and climate change, auto racing strikes me as being an almost unconscionable waste of nonrenewable natural resources whereas the energy that is used in a horse race comes from the crops that are raised to feed the horses.

Nevertheless, NASCAR certainly has a lot more followers now than it did when I was a child. It has its own website, which seems to be a sure sign that it has "arrived."

But it seems to me that auto racing needs something to put it on the sports map, to make it palatable for casual observers who typically may watch it for a few minutes while they wait for something else to come on.

I don't think auto racing, even in an abbreviated form, will ever be an Olympic sport.

But I think it needs a persona whose appeal can transcend its boundaries.

Like Tiger Woods in golf. Or Muhammad Ali in boxing.

Even major sports need a jolt from time to time. After the strike in the mid–1990s, major league baseball, long recognized as America's pastime, had no shortage of personalities, but it needed something special to attract alienated fans. It got that in the form of the single–season home run record duel between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa.

McGwire's recent admission that he used steroids during his career may taint that memory and lead to new problems for major league baseball. But, really, it isn't unusual for a boom in popularity for a given sport to disappear. It often happens when a big name leaves the scene. Clearly, boxing struggled after Ali retired.

But an appealing personality will bring in new followers, some of whom may stay even after that personality is gone. At least, that's the hope — kind of like the 1992 presidential election, when many people expressed their hope that Ross Perot's independent candidacy, although not successful, had brought millions of people into the political process who would continue to participate even after Perot left the scene.

So who can fill that role for NASCAR?

Today, I have been reading Bruce Martin's Sports Illustrated preview to tomorrow's Daytona 500, and he writes about many aspects of the race that my friend probably knows about but about which I am ignorant. However, he kind of touches on my point when he asserts that viewers will probably get tired of hearing about Danica Patrick.

My friend talks to me of Jimmie Johnson, who is the defending NASCAR champion. She is an admirer of his, and I have heard — largely through my friend — of his accomplishments, but, truth be told, the only person with whom I am familiar who has that name has silver hair and made his name as a football coach (and he also spells his first name differently).

As successful as he is, Jimmie Johnson's not the one to make NASCAR America's new pastime. In my opinion, anyway.

Other than Patrick, the only NASCAR driver I have known much about in the last couple of decades, Dale Earnhardt Sr., died in a wreck at Daytona nearly 10 years ago. Since Earnhardt's death, NASCAR seems to have existed in something of a vacuum. Its fan base knows about Jimmie Johnson. Folks outside of its fan base are familiar with some names but not necessarily their achievements.

I tend to agree with Mike Freeman of CBS Sports, who says, "It doesn't take a Venn diagram to see Patrick and NASCAR need each other."

David Newton of ESPN.com says Patrick has been preparing for this all her life.

I know there are people who don't believe women should be competing in auto racing. But, in an era when a woman came so close to winning her party's nomination for president and another woman was nominated for vice president by the other party, it seems hopelessly sexist and, frankly, out of touch to suggest that a woman can't compete in any sport that does not require her to share a dressing room with a bunch of guys.

Well, it seems that way to me, anyway.

So I say ...

If NASCAR wants to attract a new generation of fans, it is time to give Patrick her chance.

Who Will Light the Torch?

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The Winter Olympics are filled with great memories for Americans. In less than two weeks, we will observe the 30th anniversary of what is probably the best memory — the U.S. hockey team's triumph over the Russians in 1980.

Twenty–two years later, when the Winter Olympics returned to the United States, members of that team lit the torch at the opening ceremony. Considering that 2010 is the 30th anniversary of their achievement, it probably would have been more appropriate for them to light the torch this year — but the Games are in Canada, not the United States.

The 2010 Winter Games begin today in Vancouver, and Steve Almasy of CNN.com wonders who will light the torch tonight.

It's a good question, and the answer is a closely guarded secret. Almasy reports that speculation has centered on hockey legend Wayne Gretzky, who was the executive director of the Canadian national men's hockey team at the 2002 Olympics. He also says that Betty Fox, the mother of Terry Fox, has been gaining support.

Terry Fox, in case you don't know, was a Canadian hero. An osteosarcoma victim, he started out on a cross–Canada "Marathon of Hope" in 1980 to benefit cancer research. But he ultimately had to give it up as his cancer spread. He died in 1981.

"The idea of a hologram of Fox carrying the torch the final steps also has been floated," Almasy says.

Personally, I've never been particularly interested in who lit the torch at the Olympics. It's always seemed to me to be similar to the ball that drops in Times Square on New Year's Eve — it was something that was going to happen anyway. As a journalist, I guess, in my mind, it's always been a "dog bites man" story. The real news would be if the ceremony got disrupted in some way.

In Salt Lake City in 2002, I remember watching the opening ceremony only because of my concerns that terrorists, only a few months removed from the September 11 attacks, might try something. But nothing unusual happened. And, hopefully, nothing unusual will happen this time.

Well, the opening ceremonies will be televised at 8 p.m. (Central) on NBC.

In the meantime, writes Lori Culbert of the Vancouver Sun, "we'll have to wait until this evening" to learn the identity of the torchbearer.

The End of a Very Brief Era

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In American sports, the late 1980s were the Age of Tyson.

Tiger Woods did not emerge until the late 1990s. Michael Jordan was starting to make a name for himself, but he didn't win his first NBA title until 1991.

Sure, there were other people doing things in sports in the late 1980s, but Mike Tyson cast a muscular shadow over the landscape. He became heavyweight champion in 1986, when he was barely 20 years old, and the expectation was that he could be heavyweight champion for 15–20 years.

He made quick work of many of his opponents, routinely knocking them out in the first couple of rounds.

A lot of sports fans didn't care for Tyson. He was a thug, boorish, abusive to his wife, not a pleasant person. But what could be done? It looked like we were stuck with him for at least a decade, maybe longer.

Until Feb. 11, 1990.

Buster Douglas was supposed to be a tomato can. But I guess nobody told him that. On Feb. 11, 1990, he hung in there with Tyson. He even survived being knocked down by Tyson. And he pulled off one of the most astonishing upsets in sports history.

I remember that Saturday night. I was working on a newspaper sports desk that evening and the news of Tyson's defeat came in from Japan over the newswire shortly before our deadline. We didn't have a lot of space, but we got the story in. We knew our readers had other options for news, even in those pre–internet days, but we felt obliged to get the news in. Some of our readers might not have heard that the world had changed while they slept.

Just like that, it was over. The Age of Tyson was done. It didn't last 15 or 20 years. It was over in little more than three years.

Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

Well, there was kind of a bang, I guess. Less than a week after the fight, the replay was shown on HBO. A watering hole in the town where I was working advertised that people could see the tape of the fight on its big screen so a buddy of mine from work and I went over there to watch it. The place was packed, and the way the people in the bar cheered whenever Tyson got knocked down, you would have thought it was happening live.

A couple of years later, Tyson was convicted of sexual assault and wound up doing time in prison, then he tried to come back in boxing after his release, but he could never pull it off. Ring Magazine ranks Tyson as the 16th greatest puncher of all time, but his window of opportunity slammed shut 20 years ago, and he was never able to pry it open again.

I can't honestly say that there was a moment when I knew Tyson would never be heavyweight champion again. It just slowly dawned on me that, as fearsome as Tyson was in his prime, his time was over.

Twenty years ago, it seemed that hardly a week went by when Tyson didn't say or do something outrageous. But he became just another fighter on this night in 1990 before a stunned and, apparently, disappointed audience in Tokyo that seems to have paid for tickets expecting to see one of Tyson's one– or two–round knockouts.

The fact that they saw perhaps the most amazing upset in boxing history doesn't appear to have dawned on them — at least at that time. Maybe some of those who saw it came to appreciate the magnitude of what they had seen.

In this hemisphere, though, most sports fans understood the significance of what had happened, and most welcomed the end of the Age of Tyson.

The Saints Go Marching In

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Somewhere in this huge land of ours, a newspaper or a sports site or a TV network must have used the line I'm using as my headline.

It seems like an obvious thing.

Most people probably associate that line with Louis Armstrong and a jazz band. But, originally, it was an American gospel hymn, and it has been frequently used as a funeral march in New Orleans.

They aren't in mourning in New Orleans today. The Saints defeated the Indianapolis Colts in last night's Super Bowl.

If you read what I wrote yesterday, I picked the Colts to win. And that seemed to be the consensus, although New Orleans was the sentimental choice of a lot of observers. People often speak of how a city or region "deserves" a sports championship because of the hard times it has endured, but that seems to be particularly true of New Orleans.

With the wreckage left by Hurricane Katrina still evident in parts of the city nearly five years after Katrina made landfall, it's almost impossible to make the case that the folks in New Orleans don't deserve to feel good about themselves.

Jeff Duncan writes, in the New Orleans Times–Picayune, that the town belongs to quarterback Drew Brees, the game's MVP, and I'm sure it does.

Meanwhile, Bob Kravitz muses in the Indianapolis Star that the "football gods" may have had their revenge for the Colts' decision to sit their marquee players instead of making an earnest effort to finish the regular season with a perfect record.

But then he appeared to regain his sense of perspective. "The Saints were too good, too polished, too inspired ... too intent on bringing their wounded city a much–needed boost. Think about this: In their championship run, the Saints beat Kurt Warner, Brett Favre and Peyton Manning.

"Remarkable."

Yes, it was.

Congratulations to the Saints.

A Few Thoughts Before the Game

In a couple of hours, Super Bowl XLIV will kick off.

I've been picking the NFL games — did pretty well, too, in the regular season but just broke even, so far, in the playoffs — since the first kickoff in September so I guess it is only fitting that I should make a prediction today.

Both teams have outstanding quarterbacks. Indianapolis' Peyton Manning is probably the marquee name of the two and deservedly so. He was second in the NFL this year (behind Houston's Matt Schaub) in passing, although New Orleans' Drew Brees wasn't exactly chopped liver. He was sixth in the NFL — and actually averaged 10 yards more per game than Manning did (he also had more TD passes and fewer interceptions, but he was sacked twice as many times).

With all that talent at the quarterback position, one would expect to find more Colts and Saints among the NFL's top receivers. And the Colts do have Reggie Wayne and Dallas Clark in the league's Top 20 (the Saints have one receiver in the Top 20, Marques Colston), but it's kind of a sharp dropoff for both teams after that. New Orleans' Devery Henderson is 38th in the NFL, Indianapolis' Pierre Garcon is 44th and New Orleans' Robert Meachem is tied for 49th with Jacksonville's Torry Holt.

That seems to reflect the somewhat freewheeling nature of both quarterbacks, really — especially Brees, who seems to like having many targets from which to choose.

Wayne, however, has been having problems recently with a knee injury that has been nagging him all year and has put his status in doubt. That might affect Manning since Wayne was tied with Randy Moss for fifth–best receiver in the NFL this season. However, Manning is versatile enough that he should be able to overcome Wayne's absence if necessary.

The running game does not play a major role in either offense. Statistically, the best runner on the field is Indianapolis' Joseph Addai, who was 22nd in the NFL this season. New Orleans' Pierre Thomas was tied for 24th. The Saints' Mike Bell was 32nd. Reggie Bush, who won the Heisman Trophy when he was at Southern Cal, is probably the best known of the running backs in this year's Super Bowl, but he only carried the ball an average of five times per game during the season and finished tied for 48th in the NFL.

Consequently, it seems that sacks and interceptions may be the best way to judge each team's defensive potential. The Colts' defensive ends, Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis, were in the NFL's Top 20; Freeney, in fact, was third in the NFL with 13½ sacks. But his status, too, is in doubt. He suffered an ankle injury late in the AFC title game, and it is unknown whether it will limit him or even prevent him from playing.

Meanwhile, the Saints' Will Smith was fifth in the NFL in sacks. The Colts will need to make keeping him away from Manning a priority for the offensive line.

If Manning and Brees can avoid being sacked, there is no guarantee they can avoid interceptions, but the Saints seem to have an edge in that regard. New Orleans' Darren Sharper, who was tied with three other players for the NFL lead, picked off nine passes this season. Free safety Antoine Bethea was the Colts' leader with four — which is the same number that the Saints' Tracy Porter had.

The game matches two potent offenses so the key to victory depends on which team keeps the other team's defensive strength in check. And both defenses have strengths that seem tailor–made to exploit the other team's quarterback's weakness.

Manning is more prone to being intercepted than Brees; unfortunately for him, the Saints' secondary had a lot of success doing that (admittedly, against lesser quarterbacks, for the most part).

Brees, on the other hand, is more prone to being sacked, which means that, if Freeney is able to play, the Colts may be able to put a lot of pressure on him. He may not necessarily throw interceptions, but he might be rushed into throwing the ball away or having to take a sack. To avoid that, New Orleans might have to keep someone in the backfield to block, reducing the number of targets for Brees.

But if Freeney is slowed by his injury or prevented from playing at all, the Saints can play their normal game.

I'm not a medical expert, but I have heard it said that the injury Freeney has is the kind that can require up to two months to heal. If that is so, then two weeks is rushing it considerably.

Because of that, I'm going to predict that, if Freeney does start the game, he won't be able to finish it.

But I wonder if that will be the decisive factor. So often, it seems to me, a Super Bowl is decided on intangibles, and statistics don't tell the whole story.

Gene Wojciechowski of ESPN.com summarizes my feelings better than I could have done myself.

"My heart says to pick the New Orleans Saints," he writes. "For the city. For those fans. For guys like Drew Brees and Deuce McAllister.

"But every other body part says to go with the Indianapolis Colts.

"Sorry, heart."

If the game turns into the kind of shootout that some folks have been suggesting, Bob Kravitz of the Indianapolis Star says the Colts will win.

Sure, I know it's homerism. But I agree with his logic. And, like Kravitz, I believe Manning will win his second Super Bowl, possibly with a Joe Montana–like fourth quarter drive.

But I know it is also possible that, as former Colts coach Tony Dungy said this week, Indianapolis could win by a couple of scores or more. Kravitz found that "shocking," but I didn't. The Saints are in the Super Bowl for the first time. First–timers often lose, and sometimes they lose by huge margins.

However, I'm more inclined to anticipate a close one. That's been the eventual outcome most of the time in recent years. So I'm hoping for a close one, preferably with a dramatic finish. Something both teams can be proud of.

I don't usually predict scores, but I'm going to predict Colts 28, Saints 24.

But, if it's a blowout, at least you've got The Who at halftime to look forward to.

A Moment of Imperfection

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A little while ago, I was reading an article on the TIME website about the "Top 10 Super Bowl Moments."

"In the buildup to Sunday's football finale," read the subhead, "TIME takes a time out to review the greatest catches, tackles, passes and runs in Super Bowl history. As well as a kick to forget."

I could only think of two kicks in Super Bowl history that could fit that description — Scott Norwood's near–miss in Super Bowl XXV and Garo Yepremian's blocked kick in Super Bowl VII. Turned out, TIME was referring to Norwood's miss (by the way, you can see videos of all 10 Super Bowl moments if you read TIME's article).

Unless you were a fan of the Buffalo Bills, though, I don't think I would say that Norwood's kick was one to forget. It was a dramatic moment. The snap was good. It didn't sail over the kicker's head or anything like that. The kicker made a clean kick. No one blocked it. It was long enough. It just didn't go through the uprights.

And the Bills lost the game.

If I had been the one making the list and I had to pick a kick to forget, I would go with Yepremian's kick in a heartbeat.

Now there is a kick that lives in infamy.

The 1972 Miami Dolphins, of course, are the only team to go through a regular season, the conference playoffs and the Super Bowl without losing a single game. But it wasn't easy. They had some real cliffhangers that year — a two–point win over Minnesota in the third game, a one–point win over Buffalo in the sixth game, a four–point win over the Jets in the 10th game. What's more, all three of the Dolphins' postseason victories (including the Super Bowl) could have been lost or tied if the opponent had made one more touchdown.

The Dolphins also had to overcome the absences of several injured defensive linemen and quarterback Bob Griese, who broke his ankle in the fifth game. He missed the rest of the regular season and the first–round playoff game, then returned as a backup for the AFC Championship game. He was ready to return as the starter by the time of the Super Bowl.

In spite of the narrow escapes and the adversity of losing their field general, the Dolphins persevered and entered the Super Bowl with a 16–0 record. They needed only to beat the Washington Redskins to cap a perfect season.

But one moment of imperfection threatened to undo what they had accomplished.

In the fourth quarter, with Miami leading, 14–0, Yepremian prepared to attempt a field goal that seemed likely to put the game away, but the kick was blocked and Yepremian chased the bouncing football, picked it up when he should have just fallen on it and made a feeble attempt to throw it to Larry Csonka. The ball slipped out of his hands and he tried to bat it out of bounds, but, instead, it went up in the air and was picked off by Mike Bass, who ran it back for a touchdown.

With just over two minutes left in the game, the Redskins were within a touchdown of tying the score. On the Miami sideline, defensive lineman Manny Fernandez, considered by many the game's most valuable player, said to Yepremian, "You son of a bitch, we lose this game, I'm gonna f***ing kill you."

To just about everyone's surprise, Washington opted to kick deep instead of trying to recover an onside kick, then used up all of its timeouts before getting the ball back. But the Redskins did have one last chance, with 1:14 remaining in the fourth quarter. Miami's defense stopped Washington, and the legendary perfect season was in the books.

As I mentioned at the start of this post, I would rate Yepremian's botched kick as the one to forget, not Norwood's. And, apparently, Yepremian wanted to forget it right away, even though it didn't cost his team the game. From what I have heard, he was so depressed that he went into virtual seclusion for two weeks after the game.

However, "Garo's Gaffe," as it was known, made him famous and brought him speaking engagements and commercial endorsements.

What could have been the costliest mistake of his life turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

Not Your Typical Super Bowl

It probably should have been obvious when the conference championship games were over, but the 44th Super Bowl — and that reminds me, don't you think it is about time to dispense with the Roman numerals? — isn't going to be your daddy's Super Bowl.

For one thing, the teams aren't your usual suspects, if such a thing exists in pro football. Certain teams — New England, Pittsburgh, Dallas, San Francisco come to mind — have been there more often than most, but the Colts will be making only their second appearance in the last 40 years and the Saints will be playing in their very first Super Bowl.

For another, the two teams with the best records in their leagues will be facing each other. That doesn't happen very often. Since the NFL introduced playoff seedings in 1975, the top two seeds have met eight times. On six of those occasions, the NFC's representative was the winner — which may be good news for New Orleans.

Something else to keep in mind. There is usually little news of any real significance from either team in the traditional two–week period between the conference championship games and the Super Bowl.

But this year may be different. There is already talk that Indianapolis may have to play without defensive end Dwight Freeney, and most NFL fans would probably tell you that Freeney is the best defensive player in a game that seems top heavy with offensive stars. Peter King of Sports Illustrated says that, if Freeney can't play, it will make running the offense much easier for New Orleans. And he's right.

How much does Freeney mean to Indianapolis? Well, Scouts, Inc. came up with rankings for all the players who are expected to suit up for Sunday's game. Colts quarterback Peyton Manning was rated "best player on the planet." There are probably some dissenters scattered around the country, but I'm inclined to go along with that. The next six were judged the "elite players." Freeney was one of those six.

Most folks probably wouldn't argue that point, either. Freeney was responsible for 13½ sacks this season as well as 24 tackles, 19 of which were solo efforts. That's going to be tough to replace.

We'll see if that is a decision the Colts are forced to make.