Some notes on Sunday's Manning Bowl, which I attended from my season ticket in Section 216 at Giants Stadium...

• First and foremost, today is the fifth anniversary of 9/11, an occasion that changed my life forever ... and for the better. I swore on that day that I'd worked my last stressful day. Never again would I cheat myself out of a moment's pleasure because of some corporate bind. (And I had a pretty good handle on those priorities to begin with. It's called "Sorry, boss, can't do it tonight. Got plans.") Five years after 9/11, I hear way too many "Can't, I gotta"s. Can't, I gotta do this. Can't, I gotta do that. I hear this in New York City, the most dynamic place in the world. I hear this from very intelligent people, in the prime of their lives, who position themselves to work 70-hour weeks on Wall Street. I never say "Can't, I gotta..." Instead, it's "Can't, I'm gonna..." There's a huge difference.

• The picture above — from my Giants-Colts photo album — is a shot I took through one of 80,000 American flags handed out at the game, proof that if you keep your eyes open, you can find a nice photo just about anywhere. That's what I like about photography, which is just an occasional hobby. Anyone could have gotten that shot, but how many thought of it? And how many did I miss that were right in front of my eyes? Any day the sun rises is a day filled with photo-ops. (And you might find yourself witness to the worst sports jersey of all time.)

• I've been a Peyton Manning supporter ever since he got screwed out of the 1997 Heisman Trophy, which went to Charles Woodson (a cornerback over a quarterback? Are you kidding me?), but I'd never seen him play live till Sunday night. God, he owned us. Owned. On any given play, there are only three possible results: positive play for the offense, positive play for the defense, and a wash (something like 3-4 yards on first down). The Colts "won" a way higher percentage of plays than we won on defense. It was Manning who called the exact plays, and it was Manning who executed them, like going 10 of 14 for 120 yards and a touchdown on third down. The rap he gets is complete bunk. Far as I can tell, his biggest fault is being part of a team that lost to the Patriots (when no one else could beat them) and the Steelers (when no one else could beat them). Hence, he must suck. And he must never have won a big game, because there were no big games in the SEC (aside from Tennessee-Florida), and NFL regular-season games are pretty much cake.

• A fan behind me kept yelling for Jeremy Shockey to "get in the game." Tell me, is there a position in any sport less conducive to getting yourself involved than tight end? First, if the coach calls a run — which worked spectacularly Sunday (28 rushes for 186 yards; 6.6 a clip) — the tight end gets no credit for his blocking. Second, tight ends aren't really expected to get themselves open. Unlike a burner on the outside, his job is basically to run a precise route, and it's up to the play call to put him in a position to be open. If they don't throw to him, it's not because Shockey didn't do enough to get open. Hell, he's the last guy in the NFL who's gonna tank a route in which he's supposed to be a primary receiver.

• The crowd was equal parts great and sucky. The din at the start of the game was reminiscent of the Carrier Dome, when I was a student and the Syracuse football team didn't blow complete ass. The noise level went from excited to frenzied to straight-up painful. Like seriously painful, a level of noise you don't don't hear outside sporting events. But our section in the mezzanine sucked. I wanted us to be standing for defensive plays way more than we did. Giants fans are too old-school sometimes.

• They had this cool game where two fans were invited onto the field and given three chances to catch a punt for a prize. The balls were lofted by a machine, and they soared 50 yards in a tight spiral. Anyway, these dudes missed all six. Unless you count the couple that crashed off their chests. Hilarious stuff, but I booed the shit out of them anyway.

• Also receiving boos: whoever was lauded on the scoreboard as the Designated Driver of the Game. Harsh, but also pretty funny.

• Line of the night, said by some dude walking past me after the crushing defeat, "Win or lose, we still booze."

• Hey, at least we're not the Packers.