John Delach

The Giants 2008 Improbable Playoff Season

Who knew? Turn back the clock to that late December game in Buffalo against the Bills. The Giants were trailing, Eli was struggling and the wind, rain and snow, all conspired to break Big Blue compelling the Giants to look forward to the following weekend and force a victory from the omnipotent Patriots on Saturday night in Giants Stadium. Doubt, yes there was doubt. Once again, it seemed that the situation was in doubt and our season was over.

But amazingly, Big Blue rallied in spite of the weather to defeat Buffalo, guaranteeing a spot in the playoffs. I called my son and said, “Michael, if the opening round is against Tampa, let’s go. But if we’re playing Seattle, that’s too far to go for me.”

He agreed. When the Redskins stumbled making them the last seed, our trip to Tampa was secured regardless of the outcome of our game against the Pats.

The debate in New York on the sports talk shows preceding the Giants-Patriots game centered on the issue of whether or not Coach Tom Coughlin should play his starters in an effort to prevent the Patriots from achieving a perfect regular season record of 16-0. The smart money seemed to say that the Giants should rest as many starters as possible on the theory that the game meant nothing to the Giants and that preparing for the playoff game against Tampa the following week was more important. Coach Coughlin would only say, “I will do what I consider to be in the best interest for the team.”

Coughlin’s plan was to bring all of his weapons to bear and take it to the Patriots. The result was a hell of a game that the Patriots won despite a strong effort by Eli Manning who threw four touchdown passes and the New York defense put up a good fight. But the Patriots controlled the game and won. Curiously, the losing team and their coaching staff walked away with a swagger, a swagger that they could compete with the elite teams in the NFL

Only the two older veterans from Super Bowl XXXV, Amani Toomer and Michael Strahan, had rotten things to say about the game. Other than them, it seemed that the rest of the organization, team, coaches, office staff, and the media itself were energized by this defeat.

The overwhelming attitude in New York was that indeed, we can compete with any team in this league.

Still, the press lingered on Coach Coughlin’s decision to play the game as he believed it should be played. Three starters were hurt against the Patriots, center Shawn O’Hara, cornerback Sam Madison and linebacker Kawika Mitchell. Another controversy for scribes and talking heads with too much time on their hands, but the simple truth was that all three of these players would have played in that game regardless of whom Coughlin sat.

Michael and I signed up with Big Blue Travel and flew to Tampa from LaGuardia on a crowded American Airlines MD-80 after an hour plus delay caused by the need to replace two faulty pressurization switches. The travel group’s representative, Joe met us in Tampa where we boarded a bus that took us to our hotel, the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel and Casino.

Located several miles east of Tampa alongside Interstate 4, the hotel was built in an area zoned for light industry, outdoor supply depots for utilities, trucking firms, a large Budweiser distribution facility and several other rag-tag light industry operations. A few strip malls offered day care services, laundries, soul food eateries and bail bondsmen. Sub-standard housing shared the remaining space, mostly small single story dilapidated bungalows surrounded by chain link fences guarded by Pit Bulls and other watch dogs. Mike and I walked this domain on Saturday morning. “Mike, it seems kind of obvious why they built the casino here. It’s close to the interstate and away from anyone with clout who’d object to it.”

We did find a Shell station close to the hotel where we could buy beer and wine for our room. But when Michael brought back a twelve pack, one of the guards who checked his room card before allowing guests onto the elevators told him, “You can only take two beers at a time.”

 “Okay Mike what did she tell you to do with the other ten?”

“Check them with the bell hop. So that’s what I did, but the bellhop was the same guy you tipped for bringing up our bags. He said to me, ‘This is bullshit. They change the rule every day. Go up to your room, get a small carryon bag and put the beer inside it. She can’t check the contents of your bag.”

“That’s what I did. I grabbed a bag, went out into the parking lot, filled it and brought the ten bottles back to our room.”

We had a large room with two queen size beds and a nice big bathroom. Our room was non-smoking, but the lobby was full of smoke most of it coming from the adjoining slot machine casino. A casino of wheel chairs, ‘Mister Mobility’, walkers, canes and other devices. Florida 2008; if you build it, they will come.

I worried that the hotel restaurants would suffer the same fate as we were captive in the hotel since Tampa was a $40 cab ride away. Fortunately, these restaurants were non-smoking.

On Saturday afternoon, we joined the other fans in our group around the pool and the pool bar. The weather was only fair, but brilliant when compared with January in New York. We met Tony from Hoboken and his entourage. Honestly, they looked like they had stepped off of the set of the Sopranos. We were informed that sanitation trucks, produce trucks and construction equipment didn’t move in Hoboken unless Tony said that it was okay.

The Big Blue cocktail party on Saturday night was fair and Mike and I weren’t sorry we ate at the buffet first. Roy White, the former Yankee star, was on hand as was Brandon Jacobs, the Giants primary running back.

Our host, Joe, announced that he had two pre-game field passes to give out. “My son is putting posted-notes up on the wall with the numbers 1 to 60. That’s how many there are of us so each one of you should take one. I’ll announce the two winning numbers.”

Mike and I went over. He took 11 for Phil Simms and I took 14 for Y.A. Tittle. Then we heard Joe say, “No, put the numbers back, my son isn’t finished.”

Dutifully, we put the numbers back, but Mike used his height to paste them high up the wall. When Joe said it was alright to retrieve the numbers, I watched a chap jump as high as he could and grab one of the numbers Mike had parked. Mike grabbed the remaining one, Number 11. “Don’t worry Dad, take this one.”

I looked down and saw a 6. Mike said, “It’s Roy White’s number.”

When Joe called the group to order he said, “The numbers I’ve selected are our two guests’ Number, 6 for Roy White and 27 for Brandon Jacobs.”

“Damn!” I said. “But Mike, you take it, you selected it.” Before he could object, I continued, “It’s far more important that you get on that field tomorrow than me.”

Before we returned to our room, we stopped at the gift shop to buy a disposable camera for Mike to take with him on Sunday morning