Once again it comes down to redemption-- this bourne on the broad shoulders of Vince Young who has known the heights of triumph in the college game only to be mistreated, misunderstood and derided in the professional game-- a proud, young man for whom those affronts have kindled in him a fury and rage the likes of which have seldom been seen in the world of sport.
Imagine the pure anger and hatred of Mike Tyson in his prime, of Butkus, of Jim Brown-- a burning need to use that explosive fuel of toxic criticism to silence his detractors, to once again drink the sweet nectar of victory and find his place in the sun. Now imagine the only thing standing between this talented juggernaut and his self-actualization is the much-maligned and tattered backfield of the Patriots who are naught but a collection of castoffs and terrified, inexperienced JAGs.
Imagine again young Young finally mastering his immense talent and unleashing the total devestation of a two-headed monster known as DeLeSean on this sorry, overmatched crew. Blazing speed. Helpless defenders. Spinning, whirling, dazzling moves towards wide-open green pastures leading directly to a welcoming endzone which each will visit often.
This will be remembered, years hence, as the day when Vince solidifies his hold on the starters job over Vick in a weird echo of Brady-Bledsoe and he begins to take his rightful place amongst the immortals of his sport.
We are going to get utterly destroyed. Bank on it.
High Flyin' Soaring Eagles 66
Position Assumin' Pats 6
