By the time we get to Arizona…

God damn it, they did it. The Giants are in the Super Bowl.

You gotta admit, they've looked like a different team for the past month or so. Where'd it come from? Eli? Ahmad Bradshaw? Jessica Simpson?

The city of New York should be thanking me and the missus for producing the talisman of the Giants' season. Lee Jr. has watched Big Blue go 4-1, and that includes the Patriots game. He's a regular rabbit's foot. Shit, even the Knicks are winning since LJ hit town.

I had the kid by myself tonight for most of the game. I spent most of the second quarter fumbling around with diapers and baby bottles as LJ screamed his ass off. Then he puked all over my vintage Giants shirt during halftime (I wore my 90's Junior Seau jersey for the Pats-Bolts game). When the first-born masculine child yaks on your team's shirt at halftime, it's hard to go wrong.

Funny, Lee Jr's bottle feedings are absolutely identical to his dad's cough syrup jags from back in the day:
1) gulps down a four ounce bottle
2) pukes on floor of parents' house
3) leans back and squints at wall
4) puts on Isn't Anything CD (ok, he's not doing that yet...)

Glendale, here we come!!!