Heartbreak In Sports: A Coping Mechanism
By Mike Silva
What a time to be alive.
The beginning of 2017 means the end of 2016, which by all accounts presented a crazy year in sports. Let's recap:
You can't say enough about Super Bowl LI. Wow. To come back from 10 points down is damn near impossible. Tom Brady did that two years ago. To come back from down 25? To put up 31 unanswered points in a total of about 25 game minutes? Only Brady.
We saw the demise and resurgence of Aaron Rodgers, the end of the witch-hunt that was #Deflategate (ashtags and the "-gate" suffix are sad reminders of the times we live in), the rebirth of the 90's era Dallas Cowboys, and a $72M contract go to a 6'8" quarterback who can't complete 6-yard passes who looks like he's starring in the next Twilight movie (don't lie, you got that one).
The NBA, having just returned from the greatest NBA story ever (don’t deny it, the LeBron James redemption tour that ended in bringing Cleveland a title by overcoming a 3-1 series deficit over a 73-win team is pure cinema) is back for another installment where we may--no, will see a trilogy of Cleveland-Golden State. The Warriors adding Kevin Durant is definitely equivalent to Han Solo being carried away in carbonite like a life-sized Hershey’s bar to end Episode V. The Empire indeed struck back. I just want to see the devastation Russell Westbrook leaves at all those that get in his way of vengeance (update: 21 triple-doubles at the All-Star break level devastation).
Let’s not forget about baseball. We saw the Chicago Cubs (hadn’t won the World Series since 1908) defeat the Cleveland Indians (still haven’t won since 1948) in the ultimate showdown of two snake-bitten franchises. From Bartman, billy-goats, and the underperforming Lou Piniella teams of recent history in Chicago to the 1997/Jose Mesa, 3-1 ALCS lead over the Red Sox in 2007 losing Tribe, the stage was set.
Being a Patriots fan right now means being on Cloud 9. No sports outcome has/can/will ever compare to the crazy comeback in Houston on Super Sunday. None will ever. But imagine being an Atlanta Falcons fan today. How must that feel?
Let's look at this year's World Series, a microcosm for both team’s histories. How fitting is it that this series went from 3-1 to 3-3, promising for another heartbreaking Game 7 for one of these teams (re: the Cleveland Indians)?
At 3-3 heading into Game 7, the obvious question that arose was "whose loss would be more painful?"
On one hand, you had Chicago, down 3-1 when all of a sudden, the series is knotted at 3 apiece. Imagine they lose Game 7 after climbing out of that deep hole. The "almost" comeback is as painful an outcome as any in sports.
On the other hand, you had a Cleveland team looking at the other side of a 3-1 series lead (nod to the Cavaliers). The pressure that mounts knowing you only need one W to seal a title can be overwhelming, especially when you consider karma had their back in the NBA. Losing three games in a row to close out a series is devastating. To be that close…
Because of the Cavaliers win in June, the city of Cleveland is still high on life. Believeland, right? Even when the Indians lost one of the most thrilling World Series Game 7s of all time, you kind of got the sense that they were OK. I have to think the emotions of Rajai Davis' three-run shot off Aroldis Chapman in the 8th inning encompassed enough to feel like a win. It has to go down as one of the most memorable moments in Cleveland sports history. A moment which, sadly, ended again in tragedy.
Sports are so captivating for the unifying quality they have alone. They can make or break an entire city’s spirit in a single moment. The emotions and sentiments they impose on us are contagious and long-lasting.
How long does it truly take to get over a heartbreaking loss? It differs for everyone. Sometimes a heartbreaking loss is almost welcome, as if it was the expected outcome all along. There’s a certain relief to it.
You don’t have to hold on so tight anymore, you tell yourself. You can let go! It’s over!
The one thing heartbreaking losses always have in common is the presence of that one play. Think of the two aforementioned instances (Bartman and LeBron’s block). In both cases, you knew the game was over. Whether it’s in an obvious, literal state (a buzzer-beater has a pretty clear finality to it) or it’s a single, tipping point play before the end, these games within the game are as emotionally charged as the final result.
For Falcons fans, it has to be the crazy Julian Edelman catch. There's no way it isn't. Maybe Donta Hightower's strip sack is up there, but at least it wasn't a freak play.
We all have our short list of such moments and five stand out for me. Before we start, here are some honorable mentions:
Note: I'm a hardcore Tom Brady, 49ers, and Yankees fan.
Honorable Mentions
The Play: Reggie Wayne’s Should’ve Been Fumble
Setting: 2006 AFC Championship Game
Outcome: Colts beat Pats, 38-34
We’d heard all year that this was it, this was the year Peyton Manning would finally get over the hump and lead his Indianapolis Colts over the Patriots and get a Super Bowl berth.
After a fast Pats start and an Asante Samuel pick-6, it was 21-3. Business as usual. Brady was going to take the Pats to Miami and beat the Rex Grossman-led Chicago Bears for his fourth Super Bowl title.
Until, slowly but surely, the Pats lead evaporated, thanks mostly to the defense falling apart and Reche Caldwell being Reche Caldwell. After it was knotted at 21-21, the Pats and Colts traded scores to get to 31-31 before the Pats scored for the last time with a go-ahead 43-yarder, giving the Colts a little over two minutes to overcome a 34-31 deficit.
Indy had marched to around midfield breaking the two-minute mark. Manning hits Wayne over the middle. He breaks free into open space, jukes, spins – the ball is out! Nevermind, right back in his hands…
The ball pops straight up in the air and right back into Wanye’s hands. Had the Pats collected the ball, turnover, and likely, ballgame. But instead, the Colts drove until they scored the game-winner, a run by Joseph Addai of all people.
You can see the entire game below or skip to the play itself at 2:05:23. While I hated the outcome, it really was one of the most exciting football games I’ve ever watched.
The Play: Malcolm Smith’s Endzone INT
Setting: 2013 NFC Championship Game
Outcome: Seahawks beat 49ers, 23-17
After taking the league by storm, Colin Kaepernick was looking for redemption. Just months after losing the Super Bowl (more on that later), the 49ers were in a position to return to the big game.
They led the rival Seattle Seahawks for most of the game. 10-0, 17-10, 17-13. A disastrous misplay in the secondary led to a 40-yard touchdown pass to Jermaine Kearse (more on him later, too) on 4th and 7, ultimately giving the Seahawks a 20-17 lead early in the 4th.
But no worries, Kap is under center. In the final minutes the 49ers stopped the bleeding. What looked like it would be a blowout was still somehow just a six-point game. San Francisco drove the ball all the way to Seattle’s 18-yardline with 30 seconds remaining.
Kap throws a route towards the side of the endzone to the usually reliable Michael Crabtree. I don’t know whether to blame Crab for a weak attempt on the catch or applaud Richard Sherman for his athleticism, but Sherman jumps up and tips the ball, right into his teammate Smith’s hands for the game-ending pick.
What ensued was an injustice to postgame interviews everywhere. Hawks win and go on to beat Denver for the title.
The Play: Jermaine Kearse’s Circus Catch
Setting: Super Bowl XLIX
Outcome: Pats beat Seahawks, 28-24!
This one comes with a caveat, as the game ended exactly how I wanted it to: in agonizing defeat for Seattle and a fourth title for Brady and the Pats. In fact, Malcolm Butler’s fantastic goalline interception would probably be number one a list of best moments of my sports fandom.
But this list is for misery, and the “what if” here (what if Butler doesn’t make that play and the Pats lose?) would be the ultimate pain. It would probably push this to number one on this list. Anyway…
This back-and-forth game saw the Pats take control, lose control, climb back from a 10-point deficit in the fourth quarter, and give the ball back to the other team with a little over two minutes to go (this always happens!).
First down at about the Pats’ 40, Russell Wilson heaves a ball down the sideline to Kearse (again with this guy). Butler, playing about as perfect pass defense as you can play, leaps up and tips the ball. It hits Kearse’s leg, then bounces around off just about every extremity of his body, before he pulls it in inside the 10-yardline.
The amount of focus it takes to make this catch is only surpassed by the amount of luck it takes to make this catch. It had scary PTSD undertones (freak catch to position a Pats loss in Arizona) until it was all for naught. Butler makes a big play, Pats wins. But what if they hadn’t? I don’t want to think about it…
The Top 5
5. The Play: Mario Manningham’s Great Catch
Setting: Super Bowl XLVI
Outcome: Giants beat Pats, 21-17
The New York Football Giants. They’ve caused me so much pain. The Manning family alone has cost Brady at least four championships, but likely, indirectly more than that.
Tom Terrific’s most recent failure to capture the elusive ring No. 4 (note: he has it now after beating Seattle) came on a déjà vu: Pats prolific offense struggling to score on a dominant Giants front four. Pats lead with less than four minutes to go. Eli Manning has way too much time to overcome a slim lead (17-15 in this case).
So what happens? 1st down near the 10, he immediately hooks up with Manningham on the sideline near midfield to start the game-winning drive. Remember, they only needed a field goal, so this play all but promises them that since it leaves them needing only about 20 for a makable kick.
They end up scoring on an Ahmad Bradshaw run of the “let them score so we can get the ball back” Patriots defensive variety. It proved to be enough. Brady got the ball back with over a minute to make it matter, but too many drops from pass receivers left the Pats heartbroken once again.
4. The Play: Wes Welker’s Drop
Setting: Super Bowl XLVI
Outcome: Giants beat Pats, 21-17
Same game, different play. Three plays before Manningham’s sure hands we saw Welker’s stone hands drop what would’ve been the game-winning play.
It’s 2nd and 11. Brady drops back and hits Welker right in the hands near the 20 yardline of the Giants. Several things happen if he holds on:
1. First, the Giants had one timeout remaining. The play results in a first down with under four minutes to go. Even if the Giants D holds on, we likely get to the two-minute warning with no timeouts left for them.
2. At the very least, it puts the Pats in field goal position. A 20-15 lead with about two minutes to go is pretty comfortable, especially knowing the other team, at this point, won’t have any timeouts to spare.
3. Knowing the first two bullet-points, you’re likely an additional first down away from just running out the clock.
4. Best case scenario, the Pats score a touchdown and take a 24-15 lead with just under two minutes left. The game's essentially over at that point.
But no, none of that happens. Welker drops the ball because of course he did. Some say Brady’s throw was off. Sure, it could’ve been better. It could’ve been thrown in stride. But you can’t argue with the fact that Welker had two hands on it. Two hands! You HAVE to catch that.
3. The Play: The No-Call
Setting: Super Bowl XLVII
Outcome: Ravens beat 49ers, 34-31
What started out as a disastrous game for the 49ers turned into a thriller.
After the second half opened with a Jacoby Jones (what’s up, Texans fans?) kickoff return for a touchdown, the Baltimore Ravens were in a commanding position to win, up 28-6 with just less than a half to play.
Inexplicably, the power went out in the Super Dome to a parade of funny memes and conspiracy theories. When power was restored, what had to have been nerves and jitters disappeared for the 49ers.
A field goal and a pair of touchdowns by Frank Gore and Crabtree cut the insurmountable lead to five points, 28-23. There was some back-and-forth that ultimately led to a 49ers possession, down 34-29, with two minutes remaining to score a go-ahead touchdown.
Five yards away from paydirt, the 49ers failed to punch it in three attempts. A combination of incomplete passes and poorly designed plays (don’t even get me started on wondering why a team predicated on a dominant run game chose to run the ball exactly zero times) set up one last chance.
I hate saying the refs influenced the final of the game, but I mean, you tell me: how is this not a pass interference or defensive hold? Jimmy Smith literally impedes Crabtree’s path with his hands and is rewarded by not being penalized.
Turnover on downs, Ravens purposely get a safety to eliminate the risk of a turnover, and a safety punt ends the game, resulting in a Ravens win. I still wonder what would’ve been if this call was actually made.
Again, the "almost" comeback hurts more than just getting blown out.
2. The Play: Dave Roberts Steals Second
Setting: Game 4, 2004 ALCS
Outcome: Red Sox beat Yankees, 6-4
Remember how I talked about the negative effects of the Bartman play on the Cubs team and how it willed them to beat themselves? The exact opposite happened in 2004 with the Boston Red Sox, and I saw it coming a mile away.
To this point in the series, the New York Yankees were the Red Sox’s daddies, as Pedro Martinez used to say. Up 3-0, the Yankees were in an undisputed position to go back to the World Series. No team had ever won a series after being down 3-0.
After crushing Boston in Game 3, the Yankees were yet again in all but guaranteed territory to win. Up 4-3 with the greatest closer of all time, Mariano Rivera, on the mound, New York was on its way to going after title 27.
Uncharacteristically, Rivera walks leadoff batter Kevin Millar. Knowing he’s slow as molasses, Terry Francona sends in Dave Roberts to pinch run. (I know, I hadn’t ever heard of him before either.)
With Bill Mueller at bat, Roberts was leaning heavily towards second after every pitch. Watching at home, you knew he was going for the steal. Everyone at Fenway had to know he was going for the steal. Hell, Rivera knew this too. And somehow, he still stole the base.
In a vacuum, you’re looking at a team down 3-0 with the tying run in Game 4 on second base against the best closer ever. Even if Boston somehow, some way wins, it’s 3-1 with Game 6 and Game 7 (if necessary) in New York. It shouldn’t have been that daunting.
But it was.
I’ve never seen such an overjoyed reaction over a stolen base in my life. You’d think they stole home to score a title-winning walk-off run. The reaction scared the hell out of me.
It was weird. You could tell they were going to rally and win the game. Ultimately, they did just that in the 12th inning.
What was even weirder is that in the following games, that Boston confidence/New York fear-for-the-worst carried over. It was concrete and tangible. You could literally feel the tension.
For that alone, as minor as it was in the grand scheme of a seven-game series, the Roberts steal was undoubtedly the turning point. It was the single moment that led the Red Sox to the only Major League series victory from down 3-0.
Damn you, Dave Roberts.
1. The Play: David Tyree
Setting: Super Bowl XLII
Outcome: Giants beat Pats, 17-14
It hurts to even reminisce on this. The Pats win over Seattle in SB49 helped make some of the pain go away, but damn, talk about disappointing.
I’m not sure how much of this scenario I need to set up. The Pats finished the regular season 16-0, becoming the first team to win 16 games in a season and the only one since the 1972 Miami Dolphins to go undefeated.
After two too-close-for-comfort playoff wins, the stage was set: David (oh, the dramatic irony) and Goliath. The 18-0 Pats vs. the “how did they even make it this far?” Giants.
From the jump, you knew it would be a close game. The Giants front four pretty much controlled the trenches the whole way. The prolific Pats offense was held in check until a Randy Moss touchdown gave the Pats the 14-10 lead with less than three minutes to go.
I’ll never forget what happened next. Ever.
A couple plays get the Giants to about their own 43. 3rd and 5. Giants ball with 1:15 to go. Eli hikes the ball, drops back seven yards, has his jersey yanked on by several Pats defenders, heaves the ball downfield, the ball gets lodged between David Tyree’s hand and his helmet, and Rodney Harrison’s usual bone-crushing hitting style goes dormant for just a moment, allowing the catch that gives the Giants the ball inside the New England 30 with about a minute to go.
You knew they were going to win after the catch, and moments later, a Plaxico Burress TD gave them the final 17-14 score they needed to win.
The circumstances easily make this the best play and best game in league history. The pursuit of perfection ended with a three point loss. 18-1 was a reality.
There are many reasons why this hurt so bad:
1. A few plays before, Asante Samuel drops what would’ve been the game-winning interception. It goes right through both hands.
2. If Eli is pulled down, it’s 4th and 12. Anything is possible, but still, clock ticking, ball on your own 35 with 12 yards to extend your season? Steep odds.
3. If Harrison hits Tyree the way he usually hits receivers or even so much as bats the ball out of his grip, it’s 4th and 5. Not an unsurpassable obstacle by any means, but still.
4. If the refs actually call what appears to be a collection of holds on the Pats defenders, it’s 3rd and 15 with the clock running.
5. If the refs call any of the ensuing defensive pass interference calls when Brady tried hitting Moss on the sideline, we may have seen an overtime game. This isn’t why they lost though.
Like I said before, because of the circumstances and the actual game itself, this is probably the best, most important, most shocking NFL game of all time. That doesn’t mean the outcome doesn’t still hurt though.