Schadenfreude Monday!

I have a lot of philosophical differences with Indy Star Colts guy Bob Kravitz. This week is no exception. Perfection, my fat white ass! The season ended too soon, and badly, and Marvin was missing for most of it.

But if you replace "perfection" with "sweet, sweet schadenfreude" he might be onto something:

For the state of Indiana, where the only thing better than a Colts' Super Bowl victory is a Patriots' Super Bowl loss, this is what perfection looks like.

It looks like Tom Brady laying flat on his back, a dazed look on his movie-star face after yet another New York Giants jailbreak to his sternum.

It looks like a humbled Bill Belichick, whose biggest challenge may soon come with additional questions arising in the wake of Spygate, sprinting across the field to congratulate the day's most accomplished coach, New York's Tom Coughlin.

It looks like Eli Manning, Peyton's little brother, engineering a Brady-esque drive in the final moments, pulling off one of football history's great Houdini jobs by getting away from multiple tacklers before receiver David Tyree's miracle catch. "That might be one of the all-time great plays in Super Bowl history," Coughlin said. And no, it wasn't overstatement.

It looks like Plaxico Burress, whose audacious early-week prediction of a Giants' victory seemed beyond preposterous, catching the game-winning touchdown, then dissolving into tears as he spoke with a TV reporter on the field.

Perfection looks like Patriots, stunned and beaten and humbled in a way that defied explanation, bathing in a shower of red, white and blue confetti that was not, for once, meant for them.

Ahhhhhhhhh. :) Welcome to Perfectville.

The cheaters didn't prosper; the arrogant were cut down to size, evil was vanquished, and forget about them anyway: this is the best (non-Colts) play I have ever seen.

The grass stains are just a bonus; the real prize will be seven months of not hearing from or about Goatboy or Randy Moss. Sweet, sweet silence.