The Giants had that game. I’m serious. One stop, one clean tackle, one bounce the other way, and they win. It hurts because you could feel it. They actually showed up this time. It wasn’t one of those nights where you turn it off early or scroll your phone by halftime. They played. They cared.
I was sitting next to my husband on the couch, and we were both into it. He kept saying, “They’re gonna do it this time.” Honestly, I believed him. When they started to click in the second half, it finally looked like something real. The energy was there. The crowd sounded alive again. For a second, you could almost forget how bad it’s been lately.
Then it slipped away. Not all at once, just little by little. A missed tackle, a blown coverage, a bad throw. The kind of stuff that adds up until you realize it’s gone. I didn’t even yell. I just sat there staring at the screen, thinking, “Man, they really almost had it.”
People love to say “almost” doesn’t matter, but that’s not totally true. Sometimes it does. Because this team, for all its problems, actually looked like it cared. They fought. They didn’t fold. The offense showed the potential of what it could be. The defense made real stops. It wasn’t pretty, but it was something.
No one’s happy with a loss. I’m not pretending it’s some big moral victory, but it felt different. They looked alive. They looked like a team that still believes it can win. That’s been missing for a long time.
It’s frustrating, yeah. Always is. Still, I’ll take this over another lifeless blowout any day. You could see the fight in them. You could see what they might be, if they can just figure out how to finish. They were right there. Weirdly enough, that’s the kind of game that makes you believe the next one might finally go their way.
