Week 2 of the NFL season kicked off last Thursday night with the New England Patriots' home opener. The New York Jets, their division rivals, were in town. Both teams had been victorious (barely) in Week 1 and were looking to remain undefeated. On paper, it looked like the kind of matchup that would yield an entertaining, competitive game of football.
It didn't. The Pats and Jets collaborated to produce one of the ugliest, sloppiest, most painful games of football I've ever watched. It was a rain-soaked mess plagued by unforced errors and missed opportunities.
For the record, I hate football - or any sport, for that matter - when it's played during inclement weather conditions. Throws become less accurate. Receivers drop balls they would normally catch. Running backs fumble. Everyone falls down. Offense is non-existent, defense flourishes and the game slows to a grinding halt.
That's exactly what happened last Thursday. The game started well enough - New England scored first and led 13-3 at the half. The lead should have been larger, but the Patriots were clearly outplaying New York and appeared to have the game well in hand.
Until the Jets closed to within three points in the third quarter, and the skies opened up, and the game became a free-for-all.
With Brady unable to connect with his receivers and New England unable to get anything going on the ground, the Patriots offense sputtered. So New England, clinging to its three point advantage, resorted to playing keep away. The Patriots would run a few plays, chew up some clock, then punt the ball away, trusting their defense to stop New York's rookie quarterback Geno Smith from leading a comeback drive.
Normally, watching a team trying to hold a three-point lead, which can be erased with a field goal, is a nerve-wracking experience. All it takes is one mistake - a wide receiver slips behind the defense, a running back breaks loose into the backfield - for the game to change on a dime. Instead, it was mind-numbingly boring. Smith kept throwing the ball away, preventing the Jets from gathering any sort of momentum. New York never threatened, and at no point did I feel New England's slim lead was in jeopardy.
As the game dragged on through a scoreless fourth quarter, I found myself paying more attention to the clock winding down than I was to the action (or lack thereof) on the field. I know there were passes caught and tackles made, but I can't remember any of them. All I wanted was for time to run out, preferably with one team ahead of the other. Overtime was only going to prolong my misery. It was getting late, and I needed the game to end so I could move on with my life and get back to the homework I was supposed to be doing.
And yet, when time mercifully expired at the end of the fourth (after a massive brawl broke out - finally some action!), all the agony and frustration that had built up inside me was replaced by an enormous sense of satisfaction. The Patriots had made their 13-10 lead stand up. My team had come out on top. The previous three hours spent glued to the television, torturous as they were, had paid off.
I can pick apart Tom Brady's uncharacteristically poor performance and question Bill Belichick's play calls and lament the inexperience of New England's receiving corps all I want, but I can't argue with the final result.
It wasn't pretty, but the Patriots prevailed. I can't complain about that.
Tyler Maher is a junior who is majoring in economics. He can be reached at tyler.maher@tufts.edu.
