Few times in my life have I been so fired up to attend a sporting event, and fewer times have I handled a premature season-ending defeat without murderous thoughts (usually involving Randy Johnson).

Last year's postseason run was an absolute dream, from beating the No. 1 seed Cowboys and their 13 Pro Bowlers to picking off Brett Favre's final pass as a Packer in frigid Green Bay to ruining a Boston team's pursuit of perfection with brute force, late-game guts and a signature moment.

The only thing it lacked was a home playoff game. Season-ticket holders didn't get to celebrate any victory together, and the players didn't get to stomp anyone out in front of 80,000 appreciative fans. At kickoff Sunday, the feeling was that this season's title quest was Act II of one long masterpiece, but this time we were gonna do it together. (The fact we all had tickets to a potential NFC championship game — the biggest home game a NFL fan can attend — only added to the frenzy.)

The sound and emotion in Giants Stadium following Ahmad Bradshaw's opening kickoff return of 65 yards was almost impossible to match. At 13, I saw the ball roll through Bill Buckner's legs, and I felt Shea Stadium quake, but I never heard Giants Stadium explode like it did just after 1 p.m. Sunday. And I was never so exhausted after celebrating a single play that didn't even reach field-goal range. It was as if all the energy from last year's playoff run had been bottled and preserved, for opening on this date.

Alas, the Eagles proved up to the task and deserve kudos for making the Giants look rather ordinary.

They were plenty of heads hung as Giants fans walked to their cars, but missing were the typical fits of rage that accompany losses in which, let's face it, the home team fell flat. In recent seasons, we've had plenty of those moments, debacles at Giants Stadium while fighting for our playoff lives. Not this year, though. Nine times we walked into Giants Stadium not only as Super Bowl champions, but in first place. Seven of those times we walked out winners. That's a lot of fun Sundays.

Twice we walked out losers, both times to the Eagles. The first served as a warning that no championship can be taken for granted. The second a confirmation.

So, that's it for the 2008 season. Next year, the honeymoon is over, memories of Arizona will grow fader and Plaxico Burress will wear another color (perhaps orange). Osi Umenyiora returns and a regular-season road trip to New Orleans looms. Until then, enjoy the Yankees!