I sat on the couch, stunned, mouth hanging open.

Just a short while earlier, I had been on my feet, cheering on my Dirty Birds. I was so proud of how they had taken the lead early on, and held on to it. I had even joked that they had “broken” Tom Brady.  Then sometime during the third quarter, underneath a blanket and all cozy, I dozed off.

When I woke up a short time later, all heck had broken loose. The Patriots had also woke up, and had fought their way back.

What??!! What happened? What the…??!!

I have been an Atlanta Falcons fan all my life. My whole family is. We’ve cheered on the Dirty Birds my whole life. In fact, we’ve attended games in lieu of holiday celebrations before. I’ve been a fan through thick and thin.

And this was the thin.

We had a great season. It was the season that wasn’t supposed to be. A young team that wasn’t supposed to go as far as they did, well, did. I’m still proud of them. And still proud to be a fan.

I have to admit, it was a great game, The Patriots fought hard, and they earned that title. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth to say so, but I have to give it to them – they deserve to be champions.

But I feel a bit like Charlie Brown, every stinkin’ time that Lucy charmed him into attempting to kick that dang football one more time. Each and every time, he thought, “Maybe this will be the ONE time that she won’t pull it away. Maybe this time, I’ll kick that ball!”

And each and every time, she pulled the ball away at the last second, bruising not only his back side when he landed on it, but his pride as well.

I think that’s an accurate description of how I felt after the final buzzer sounded. I got my hopes up. I thought, “We got this!” I donned my red and black, danced around my living room doing the “Dirty Bird” (there is no video proof so don’t ask), and talked all the smack I could muster.

And in the end, Lucy still pulled the ball away.

Dang.

Maybe next year, Charlie Brown. Maybe next year.