Falcons: Greatest Thing I've read in reference for the game

[RFlagg]

Found this online, thought it was incredible, mainly because of how accurate it is compared to how I felt.

Quote:I was sitting in my favorite watering hole with my wife when the 3rd quarter ended and the 4th quarter started. The conversation went something like this:
4th quarter starts. Atlanta is up 27-7.
Me: Well, fuck.
Wife: What's the matter?
Me: Look at the score. We're fucked.
Wife: Are you nuts? We're up by 20 points!
Me: Yeah, no shit. This is where it goes bad.
Wife: You've got to be kidding me...
Me: <orders another beer> Just watch. We're too far ahead at this point in the game. We can't win like this.
Wife: <eye roll> You're just being dramatic. Why can't you just enjoy the ass-kicking they're giving Seattle?
2 minutes into the 4th quarter, Seattle scores a touchdown. I take another long pull off my beer. Atlanta is still up 27-14.
Wife: Okay, now we get the ball back and can run some time off the clock.
Me: Looks good on paper.
2 minutes later, Matt Ryan throws an interception.
Wife: What the fuck???
Me: <orders another beer> Just wait. It gets better.
Wife: Shut the hell up! You're jinxing us!!!
Me: Yes, dear.
Less than 2 minutes later, Seattle scores again. Atlanta is still up at 27-21. My hopes are starting to get up a bit.
Me: <orders another beer> Well, one more Seattle score and we've got this thing wrapped up.
Wife: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!?
Me: Heck yeah. This is always the plan. You just don't understand Atlanta Falcons football.
Wife: You are seriously out of your damn mind. My mother was right about you.
Me: Your mother loves me. I take her to her doctor's appointments and make desserts when we go eat dinner with her.
Wife: Whatever...
1 Seattle and 2 Atlanta punts later, Seattle is moving the ball down the field.
Me: <orders two more beers> Well, this is our only chance. Let's just hope Seattle can score and leave less than a minute on the clock.
Wife: <silent, but giving me the stink-eye>
A couple of minutes later, Seattle scores leaving 31 seconds on the clock. Seattle is up 28-27.
Me: Well, thank God! I thought we'd never get behind. I really wish they'd quit taking so long to blow a 20 point lead. It really leaves you guessing.
Wife: <near panic attack> We're fucked! We're fucked! Best record in the NFC and we can't even keep a 20 point lead!!!
Me: Will you please shut the hell up and let Matt-y Ice work his magic. We've got this. <starts drinking second beer and pats self on the back for having the foresight to have that second beer delivered early>
1st play, Matt Ryan passes to Douglas for a 22 yard gain.
Wife: Well, whaddaya know...
Me: Shut up. You'll jinx us. We just need to get around the 35 yard line.
2nd play, Matt Ryan passes to Big T for another 19 yards. 8 seconds left.
Wife: Holy shit!
Me: Well, that's it. Game over. You ready to go?
Wife: ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? WE HAVEN"T SCORED YET!!!
Me: Don't sweat it. Matt Bryant will come out, we'll line up, Pete Carroll will call a time out to try to ice our kicker, but we'll hike the ball and take a practice shot anyway. Play will resume, we'll hike the ball for real, Matt Bryant will kick it through the uprights and then everyone will swarm Tony Gonzalez asking him if he shit himself or not when they went down by a point.
Wife: You're un-fucking-believable...
Me: Fine, we'll stay. <pays tab>
Matt Bryant comes out, the Falcons line up, Pete Carroll calls a time out to try to ice our kicker, but we hike the ball and take a practice shot. Play resumes, we hike the ball for real, Matt Bryant kicks it through the uprights and then everyone swarms Tony Gonzalez asking him if he shit himself or not when they went down by a point.
Wife: <speechless>
Me: I've been a Falcons fan since Steve Bartkowski's rookie year. This is how it's been, this is how it is and will probably always be. Nothing is ever easy for us and, if it is, it means we're probably doing something wrong and need to go back and look at some game film. Now, quit standing there with your teeth in your mouth and let's go. I need to go to bed so I can get up in the morning for my gastrologist appointment. That ulcer ain't going to fix itself.