Right after Chad Lewis caught that touchdown pass with about four minutes to go, the touchdown that cemented the victory and ensured the Philadelphia Eagles would be in the Super Bowl, some guy in the stands joyfully held up a sign that said, "We're Going To Jacksonville."
And I thought: What on earth is second prize? You have to build there?
Tents are erected along the St. Johns River in Jacksonville as the city prepares for the Super Bowl.
(Bob Self -- The Florida-times Union Via AP)
How did Jacksonville get the Super Bowl? What, Tuscaloosa was booked?
If going to Jacksonville for a week is the reward New England and Philadelphia get for being the best teams in the NFL this year, Peyton Manning ought to be happy he didn't get there. Imagine how Manning would have felt, having to play all year in Indianapolis, and then landing in Jacksonville? Which gods would he have offended to get that killer quinella?
The NFL must see itself as handing out some sort of charity when it awards the Super Bowl to any place other than New Orleans, Miami and Southern California. Because, believe me, nobody wants the game to be anywhere but there. So when the NFL insists on putting it in outposts like Detroit, Houston or Minneapolis, people ask, "Are you guys nuts?" But when you pick Jacksonville, people are agape and say, "Who in Jacksonville has a photo of Tagliabue with a goat?"
At least these other places are big cities, with some history and a longtime affiliation with the NFL, as opposed to Jacksonville, which has now been in the league for about 15 minutes. Detroit is where American cars are made, and where Motown music originated. Minneapolis-St. Paul is the home of 3M and General Mills. Houston is the home of NASA, and, thanks to Enron, the gold standard in white-collar corporate crime. Jacksonville is what? (I'm just taking a shot here, Tony, a dump? No. Cut that out. It's a 'Ville! The only good 'Ville is a Coupe de Ville.)
Have you ever been to Tampa? It's heaven, if you like Waffle Houses.
Jacksonville makes Tampa look like Paris!
Jacksonville has this one great thing, the TPC course with the island green on No. 17. (Which is actually in Ponte Vedra.) And the rest of it can be described with this phrase, "Welcome to Hooters."
People in Jacksonville will be very upset with this piece. They will say it's a cheap shot by an effete Northerner who didn't want to be the 28th person on his own paper to write about how great and smart and handsome Tom Brady is. (Which is true, but come on, we kid because we love.) They will yell and scream that their city is hardly a backwater -- it's the 14th largest city by population in the country! Yes, and that's because it's the largest city by area by far. It's an octopus. It's 840 square miles! It takes in almost all of northeast Florida. If Jacksonville annexes all of southern Georgia, it could maybe crack the population top 10.
The NFL will tell you Jacksonville is a warm-weather site because it's in Florida. But Jacksonville is barely in Florida. It gets cold in Jacksonville. Yesterday morning, the low was 31 degrees. That's below freezing, boys and girls. That's cold enough that you need to keep the space heater turned on in the double-wide. And Jacksonville is 20 miles from the beach. Jacksonville is one of the smallest and most remote stops in the NFL. Green Bay is smaller and more remote. But Green Bay has Lombardi, Starr, Favre and the frozen tundra. Jacksonville has a Dairy Queen.
Jacksonville may be in Florida technically. But this isn't South Beach, gang. It isn't the home of Gloria Estefan, Enrique Iglesias and Luther Campbell. Jacksonville is where Pat Boone was born (sometime around the Martin Van Buren presidency), and where the Southern hair band .38 Special got together. Somehow it doesn't sound like hip-hop. It's more like I-Hop.
My friend Tony Reali, "Stat Boy" on the "PTI" show, flew to Jacksonville a few months ago to emcee some dopey trivia contest. And when he walked off the plane, he got a whiff of something that almost brought him to his knees -- it was Jacksonville -- and he made the not uncommon observation, "This place smells."
"I am from Staten Island, and I have lived in New Jersey," Reali explained. "I know bad smells. This was right below Secaucus."
Not as bad as Staten Island?
"Nothing approaches Staten Island," Reali said with conviction.
The next day, while appearing on a national radio show with Dan Le Batard of the Miami Herald, Reali announced, "Jacksonville stinks," and asked Le Batard if it smelled that bad in Miami.
My friend Mike Freeman, who used to work here at The Post and now writes a column in Jacksonville, heard the show and went wild. He called Reali "Stat Jerk" and "Stat Punk," and chided him for slandering fair Jacksonville (named for Andrew Jackson, who, by the way, never actually set foot in it -- he was probably waiting on the beach). In his column Freeman said Reali's salvo was probably the first of many that would be fired at Jacksonville now that it was getting ready to host the Super Bowl.
Get used to it, brothers and sisters, Freeman wrote, this is what they're all going to do.
Brady, table for five. Brady, table for five. Welcome to Applebee's. Eatin' good. In the neighborhood.