...in this case, football and food. An avid New York Giants fan, I can’t stop reading recaps of my team’s improbable comeback victory over the Philadelphia Eagles last Sunday. My favorite line from all the postgame coverage came from Plaxico Burress, the tall, spindly wide receiver who caught Eli Manning’s final pass for the winning TD in overtime. Earlier in the game, Burress made a catch downfield but lost control of the ball, fumbling it forward. After it bounced off of an Eagle or two, the ball squirted into the end zone, where Burress’s fellow wideout Tim Carter fell on it for the touchdown that began the Giants’ comeback.
Burress is often derided in the sports press as a moody head case, but I pull for him because he blocks well (a task many receivers are too selfish to take on) and because he’s devoted to the memory of his mom, Vicki Burress, who raised three boys singlehandedly in Virginia Beach and died of diabetes when she was just 49. And I love what Plax said about Tim Carter, who turned his miscue into a score: “I owe him a steak, a lobster, a glass of merlot or something.”