conference title round: just once ...

"Each day I live?
I want to be?
A day to give
The best of me.

I'm only one --
But not alone!
My finest day?
Is yet unknown!

I broke my heart
For every gain.
To taste the sweet?
I faced the pain.

I rise and fall,
Yet through it all?
This much remains --
I want ...

One moment in time.
When I'm more than I thought I could be.
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away,
And the answers are all up to me!

Give me one moment in time,
When I'm racing with destiny!
Then?  In that one moment of time?
I will feel?  I will feel?

Eternity ..."

-- "One Moment in Time" by Whitney Houston.

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The Non-Chiefs Prediction.

* Rams (+3 1/2) 41, at Saints 30.

The Chiefs Prognostication.

So ... how has your week been?

I left Friday evening about 8pm for the Second Parents house to stay the night, since (a) it'd been snowing since noon in Midtown where I work, and (b) it was supposed to dump 5-8 inches overnight, and I had no desire to drive in that, just to catch The Bus to head to Arrowhead on Saturday.

And dump said storm did!  Because sometime Friday night into Saturday morning, I lost power at my place down in Waldo.  I headed home Saturday night and braved it, because half of my street had power, and I was hopeful that sometime early Sunday, we'd get power back on the upper half of Madison Avenue.

(Also, as I noted numerous times Sunday: even without power and heat, that house was still warmer and drier than Arrowhead was for twelve hours on Saturday.)

So when I woke up about 8:30 Sunday morning, and there still was no power, I didn't panic, or get upset.  For starters, I have like five comforters on my bed, because my bedroom faces straight northeast in a 75 year old house.  It's not like losing power and heat made that room much colder.  But also, I could see and hear the power crews working, and since I had plans virtually all day Sunday, I figured for sure by the time I got home sometime Sunday evening, I'd at least have enough power to watch the one "I don't know why I love this show, but I do, so lay off me!", uuh, show, on my regular viewing schedule.

(That would be "God Friended Me" ... and please, spare me your responses.  I've already heard them all, for liking this show.)

Nothing.  Had nothing Sunday night.

So I toughed it out again.  After all, as my mom noted: "this is just God toughening you up for Sunday night".  Gee, thanks.  I didn't know I needed "toughening up" to attend a game I've literally waited my entire life for.

Monday, ditto.  Cold and dark.

Tuesday at lunch, I drove by the house just to see ... and holy sh*t, there's a porch light on!  I felt more lit than Tom Bodett doing a Motel Six commercial!  Or Martin Mull hawking Red Roof Inn back in the day!  (Either of which I'd have paid to stay in Tuesday night, because I wasn't enduring Day Five of #poweroutage2019.)

As someone that had, to the best of my recollection and knowledge, not gone more than two straight nights without power before (and that was, I believe, in August 2003, so cold and/or dark wasn't really that big of a factor ... although stupidity was, and boy is that one helluva story I should tell sometime, but anyways ...), let me tell you.

It isn't the cold that sucks.  You can always find enough blankets and/or people to keep warm enough to see the sunrise.  It isn't the loss of power that truly sucks.  I managed to make do with a flashlight and a conveniently placed cooler in my bedroom filled with ice, Dr. Pepper, and Weller.  It isn't taking a shower without hot water ... although that's damned close.  I think I lasted 40 seconds before shouting "this f*cking sucks, I'm done!" to noone in particular (since I was (macauley culkin voice) home alone.)

No, what sucks is the darkness.  The seemingly, never ending darkness.

There ain't no light at the end of the tunnel, when you can't even find the tunnel, even if you're groping the wall for said tunnel, Charlie Rose style.

The darkness is what sucks the most, bar none.

Because darkness symbolizes no hope, no chance, no ability to chart a course to the light.

If you can't see where you're going?  How can you ever get there?

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Walking into the place on Tuesday, was weird.

I mean, and I swear, that if you're reading this, and think this makes no sense, then you're the one mentally challenged, but I swear, we all know our way around our own joints, right?

I have drunk stumbled my way to my bedroom at least 400 times in the three plus years I've lived at my place.  (Note: number is an approximation; actual total is likely much higher.)  In the words of Andy Grammar: I can "always find my way back home".

Only, Tuesday night, home felt different.

For starters, I had to chuck most everything out of the fridge, and at least half of what was in the freezer.  For seconds, the WiFi router blew something (a fuse / its usage / a temper tantrum) during the power outage.  It had to be replaced.  And as if that wasn't neat enough to return to, I realized I had at least three or four loads of laundry to do before this weekend, and I wasn't about to risk another four days without power to get a couple sweatshirts washed, so I did what I haven't done in at least three or four years: I loaded up the Jeep and headed for a laundry mat. 

But mostly, it felt weird to me, because for the previous 72, 96 hours, darkness defined my place.

And now, all of a sudden, there was a light not even 12 inches of snow, tons of downed trees, multiple defeated power lines, and (a possible) collapse of law and order in Waldo could hold back.

A bright, shining light coming out of abject darkness.

Circle me intrigued, Bert.  Circle me intrigued.

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Sunday, at 5:40pm Arrowhead Time, my ultimate Chiefs fantasy comes true.  I know, it's probably sad and possibly pathetic that watching my team bring Lamar's Trophy home means more to me than winning Mr. Lombardi's Trophy.  But it does.

Because I am 42 years, 0 months, and 17 days old come kickoff on Sunday ... and this has never happened before in my life.

The Chiefs.  Playing at home.  To bring Lamar's Trophy home.

Circle me excited, Bert.  Circle me excited.

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So, for Sunday.

The menu is stripped to its core.  We're doing crock pots, and that's it.  (Well, other than coolers of booze.  We always do that.)  Part of this is due to the weather.  I drove by our spot at Arrowhead today on my way to the Team Store, and it's an ungodly muddy mess.  (As any of you reading this that were there last week, can confirm.)  Also, I have no intention of getting stuck in an hour long security line, so I plan to head in by 3:45pm Arrowhead Time at the latest.  I am fully aware that is two hours before kickoff.  I'll have enough Fireball on me, to make it work.

(Or Jim Beam Fire, which -- sssh! -- might be better.  And I say this as someone that is not a fan of Jim Beam ... because Mr. Beam is definitely not a friend of mine most of the time.)

The Bus leaves at approximately 9:30am Arrowhead Time.  My guess is, the gates will open by noon at the latest ... and I'd take the under on that bet.  Because I'm betting the crowd on Sunday, will befit the event.

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So, as for Sunday?

Well, considering I haven't even recapped Saturday yet, I'm not sure what is left to say.

The last two times the Patriots stepped into Arrowhead in games that count?  They got taken to the woodshed, bent over, and given the business.

A Tom Brady 4 INT defeat in 2005, 26-16.  A game best remembered (and man, I wish I had the email recap from TA to post) for postgaming it with Boomer and Jared Allen in the blue Cadillac with the longhorns, making plans to head to Dallas in a few days for the last time the Chiefs would play at Texas Stadium in a game that counts.

And a total team beatdown defeat in 2014, 41-14, the night before the best sporting event I've ever attended, went down.

And I suppose, it is that game, that brings this to a close ... and might tie it all together.

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Few, if any, things have come to be great, through luck.

Few, if any, things have come to be loved, through luck.

And few, if any, things have come to be believed in, through luck.

Chiefs fans?  Luck died on that field last week.  He was drug to an early grave, 31-13, behind a defensive performance for the ages, an offense that continues to have 26 points as rock bottom for a game (seriously -- when you know you're posting at least 26 every time you show up?  That's gotta be intimidating for the opposition), and a special teams that was one play from being flawless (one of the best punt blocks I've ever seen, in the interest of honesty).

There's nothing attributable to luck, to explain where we are. 

There's something else, to do that.

Forty Two years, of darkness ... shaken awake by a light that cannot be consumed.

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So, let me truly close with this.

I've re-written portions of this (especially this portion) about 42 times since last Sunday morning.  I thought about running through the roles of everyone who has made my life better each Sunday or Monday or Thursday through the years, being in our tailgating spot, being in that stadium ... but Sam Mellinger already beat me to that idea.  I thought about going through my favorite moments of this season ... only the season isn't done yet, and frankly, the only two plays so far in the discussion for my favorite are the left handed throw at those people, and the 4th and 9 against the Ravens.  Nothing else is close on the field.

(Off the field, that's also a two puppy / pony / rooster / rubber chicken race: Patrick Mahomes singing along enthusiastically to "Sweet Caroline", the game against the Bengals was so out of hand, and the initial introduction of Mr. Mahomes against the 49ers.  Again, nothing else is close off of the field.)

I've thought of other ideas already taken -- the end of the home game playoff curse, an appreciation for the fact that the dude this blog was initially named for, in actuality is the dude who revolutionized the NFL into what it now is, even a simple reflective (matchbox 20 voice) "let's see how far we've come" shout-out to "Fat" Andy and the people he brought in to fix this broken and (stewie griffin voice) roo-eened franchise.

(I guarantee you, "Fat" Andy has had him some (stewie griffin voice) cool hwip in his day.)

So instead of those ideas now on the scrap pile of history ... I come back to the theme of the post.

One moment in time.

Again, as noted last week, we're long past time for fire-up speeches here.  I've waited 42 years, 0 months, and 17 days for this one moment in time.  Some of you reading this have waited longer than me; the blessed amongst you reading this, have waited shorter than I have.  But we've all waited for this.

One moment in time.

That one moment, is here, come 5:40pm Arrowhead Time Sunday, January 20, 2019.

Finally, for once and for all, let's #bringlamarstrophyhome.

Finally, for once and for all, #letsroll.

Finally, for once and for all, #bethebest.

* at Chiefs (-3) 27, Patriots 20.

Hope to see you Sunday.  If you do see me, I make no apologies for how I'll be.  I will most likely be in a state of complete emotional meltdown most of the day. 

I think that's a great thing.

And as always, until next time, hey!

(sgt. esterhaus voice) Let's be careful out there ...