Super Bowl 51 Post-Mortem: Falcons Snatch Defeat from the Jaws or Victory

The Atlanta I’m All Too Familiar With

If you had told me that The Atlanta Falcons would have a 28–3 lead late in the 3rd quarter of The Super Bowl, I would have told you it was too good to be true.

If you had told me that The Atlanta Falcons would blow the largest lead in Super Bowl history in just over 16 minutes, I would have told you that sounded just about right.

When you grow up in Atlanta, you come to expect the crushing defeats, with a victory or two every now and then, just to keep you invested.

Even when Atlanta held a 28–3 lead last night, I never thought it was over. That’s not hyperbole, that’s not me wallowing in self-pity. That’s not even me trying to sound like I have some sort of superior knowledge of football. That’s the truth. Ask any Atlanta fan. The writing was on the wall.

I’ve seen that movie too many times to genuinely expect a victory without at the very least sweating it out till the bitter end.

My dad said it reminded him of The Braves in the 1996 WS. After going to New York and winning the first two games of the series in Yankee Stadium, The Braves dropped 4-straight to lose the World Series.

For me, it was 2013 all over again. For the uninitiated, ATL had a 17–0 lead against the 49ers in the NFCCG, only to see it dwindle and finally disappear in a loss that at the time summed up Atlanta sports better than any other.

Other fans say it was 1980 against Danny White and the Cowboys.

Truth be told, it was all of those losses. Except worse. Last night, Atlanta was on the cusp.

Last night, Atlanta could taste victory. For just a brief moment, even though in my heart of hearts I knew it wasn’t over, I wanted to believe it was. And for a second, against my better judgement, I think maybe I did.

And it tasted so good.

For just a second, Atlanta wasn’t the laughing stock — the city with the apathetic fans, the choke-artist teams, and the stunning, nigh inconceivable losses. For a moment, we were dominating the greatest franchise since the 90’s. For a moment, not a single Falcons fan was thinking about Michael Vick, not even yours truly. For a moment, the demons of years gone by weren’t haunting The Birds.

Collapse

Atlanta was up 28–3 and we ran the ball 5 times.

Atlanta was up 28–20 on The Patriots 22-yardline with around 4 minutes left and we tried to pass.

All this being said, playing Monday Morning QB is pointless. If you watched the game, you know what the outcome should have been. You understand where the wheels fell off.

What you might not understand is the torture that Atlanta fans have endured for over 21 years since 1995, and how this simply epitomizes the misery of Atlanta fandom.

Going Forward

Tomorrow, and in the weeks to come, you’ll likely read and hear about how the Falcons have a young team, how they’ll regroup and be back soon.

But make no mistake, this was it. This was Atlanta’s chance to break with tradition and prove something to the world, and more importantly, to itself. There’s no next year, no rebounding. Not from a loss like this. A loss like this takes years and years to heal, even if years of success ensue. Even if Atlanta wins SB52 next year, the sting will still be there.

For all of the talk about what this means for The Falcons franchise, let me be selfish for a moment and talk about what this means for me:

I can never enjoy a lead again. Not after this. When you blow a 25-point lead, and half expected to do so, it ruins winning. Two weeks ago in the Georgia Dome, my brother and I watched as ATL dismantled The Packers. There were two predictably frustrated and intoxicated Packers fans sitting in front of us, carrying on about how impressed they were with Ryan. One thing they kept repeating to us was, “Enjoy this lead, this kind of a beat-down doesn’t happen often!” Of course, at the time I was still on edge, dying for the game to end as soon as Atlanta went up 24–0. Atlanta won, but even that game felt too close for comfort.

With Atlanta teams, there’s always room for a collapse.

I’d laugh if the irony didn’t hurt so much.

This also means I’m going to be losing sleep for a few more nights. I woke up several times Sunday night, each time thinking/hoping/wishing it had all been a bad dream. That maybe Quinn and Shanahan had just run the football, kicked a field goal, and come home with a win.

Next September, I’ll be cheering on the Falcons again, as I always will. But it will be different. I won’t be rooting for The Falcons to win; I’ll be hoping they just don’t blow it; that they don’t cause me more heartache.

I’ll live, I think.