Through 2.75 playoff games – the divisional round, the NFC championship and the first 42 minutes and 53 seconds of the Super Bowl – the Falcons had outscored their opposition 128-44. Those foes included Seattle, Green Bay and New England, each of which had taken a Lombardi Trophy over the previous six seasons. With 17:07 remaining in Super Bowl LI, we Atlantans felt our longstanding skepticism melting into utter awe. Could an Atlanta team really be doing this?
We say again: “This” wasn’t just a team from our star-crossed city taking the big stage; “this” was an Atlanta team absolutely killing it once there. More than a few folks – that’s my hand you see raised – believed the Falcons would win that day; not one of us figured they’d run away with it like Secretariat in the Belmont.
And then … well, you know.
Sunday night brings another big moment – a prime-time game bringing Aaron Rodgers and his Packers to town for the first regular-season NFL game in gleaming Mercedes-Benz Stadium, which might, wonder of wonders, have its finicky petal roof open for the occasion. Is that not a harmonic convergence?
We answer that question with another: Is there ever a harmonic convergence for Atlanta, hub of the cosmic sports flop?
I’ll not trot out the litany of indignities. You know it by heart. You also know that such games – before the bright lights of national TV, facing a big-name…
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