T-minus three and a half hours before kick-off of the Super Bowl. This is it. The Colts have come to the event that they were destined for; this is the game they should have been in last year ... and that, perhaps more than anything, is why my stomach is doing more flips than Reggie Bush headed for the end-zone.
Two weeks ago - when the Colts overthrew their Goliath - I was supremely confident. The Super Bowl game was just a formality, a small hurdle on the way to blue and white confetti, cheesy interviews with Peyton Manning (with Archie standing beside his son), and Tony Dungy humbly holding the Vince Lambordi trophy.
But, then somewhere between the glee of disposing with the Patriots and a million reasons why the Colts should win, I started to realize that this is the last place the Colts want to be in. What do I mean? Well, the Colts are not the type of team that handles the spotlight well. Indy isn't a "favorite" kind of town.
I just hope the Colts don't lay an egg like they've done in the past. I gotta believe they've been in games like this too many times to not fumble it away in a quivering mass of nerves and mistakes.
But, then again, they've never been in the Super Bowl.
Wes
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