Giants Loss Inexplicable and Costly

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. -- The new Miracle at the New Meadowlands ended with a teasing, hot-dogging, look-back-at-the-carnage trot along the goal line as the clock ran out. Can you blame DeSean Jackson for turning around to gawk at this epic, all-time, how-did-this-happen collapse?

Bodies were everywhere. Some of the New York Giants stood stunned, hands on hips, as if they had just witnessed the grisliest, most gruesome event of their lifetime. And it was, it really was. It was so awful, Tom Coughlin was left speechless, motionless, for a full five seconds, before throwing down his notes in a furious rage. Matt Dodge, the Giants rookie punter and subject of Coughlin's ire, resembled a man desperate to go into witness protection.

The scoreboard read Philadelphia Eagles 38, New York Giants 31, with the winning touchdown coming on the final play, as Jackson scored on a 65-yard punt return with zeros across the clock. It was such an extraordinary turn of events, like watching a tsunami approach the shore with little or no warning, and while it left the Eagles thrashing about as if they had just won the Super Bowl, the Giants were beyond crushed.

Justin Tuck, the big defensive end, put on his best happy face, saying things like, "We're not dead," and "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," but the dour Giants locker room suggested he might be the only one with such strong faith. This wasn't just a sobering defeat by their bitter rivals, who are now 10-4 and in complete control of their destiny. This meant the Giants' postseason hopes had been severely crippled, with New York dropping to 9-5 and needing to win at Green Bay and Washington to clinch a playoff berth.

This was a game the Giants led by 21 points with 8:17 to play. Eli Manning had been smart and sometimes spectacular, especially with target Mario Manningham on the better end of his passes. The Giants defense had harassed and bullied Michael Vick in the first half, a first-round postseason bye was just minutes away, and then ...

"Then ..." said tackle Barry Cofield, pausing to look at the ceiling, as if maybe it held a rational explanation for all the Giants' flaws that appeared in the fourth quarter. "No words, no explanation. We just have to move on. I felt the momentum changed and it never changed back. We might have had a chance at the end, but we didn't get it done. This is about as bad a loss as you can suffer."

Worst loss in Giants' regular season history, that's what the beyond-bitter fans (photo above) of Big Blue were screaming as they trudged out of the stadium. Some were cursing the ghost of Joe Pisarcik, but the old Giant quarterback's fumble against the Eagles in 1978 that led to the original "Miracle in the Meadowlands" was small cheese compared to the devastation that took place here Sunday afternoon.

So many things were inexcusable (missed tackles, botched coverage), there were so many moments when the NY defense could have sealed the Eagles' casket, it's fair to wonder how the Giants will ever recover from the blows.

"It's hard to put a loss like this behind you. You keep thinking about something like this forever," admitted running back Brandon Jacobs. "We had so much on the line, but it's a sport and it happens."

Not like this, it doesn't. Really, it was two terrible plays from the Giants special teams that led to the most miserable meltdown in franchise lore. With 7:28 left in the game and the New Meadowlands rocking hard to the Giants' 31-10 lead, Vick, hurried and mauled and beat up for most of the day, hit tight end Brent Celek with a 65-yard touchdown pass, as Tuck was caught flat-footed in coverage.

Toddlers wrapped in three layers knew what was coming next. Everyone knew, had to know, and sure enough, there came David Akers with an on-side kick. Coughlin later said his special teams players darn well knew to be ready for it (his language on the sideline was a bit bluer), so how to explain the Giants falling asleep and allowing Philadelphia's Riley Cooper to catch the kick off one bounce, totally uncontested, at the Philly 43?

"This is disastrous. We were self-destructive today. We knew the on-side was coming," said Chase Blackburn, captain of the Giants special teams. "They made a great play. The outcome of this game is hard to explain."

Vick, so dangerous when he's allowed to play street ball, practically single handedly moved his team downfield; he coasted from 4 yards out to pull the Eagles within 31-24 with 5:28 to play. The Giants were playing scared, blowing tackles and assignments even as they knew, because everybody knew, that Vick loves improvising to his left. His 13-yard pass to Jeremy Maclin was the cherry atop a ridiculously entertaining 88-yard drive by the Eagles -- including scrambles of 33 and 22 yards from Vick -- that tied the game with 76 seconds left.

Improbable. Unbelievable. Stomping his feet on the sidelines, Coughlin no doubt had other words for what he'd just witnessed.

The Giants coach is high-strung even when he's napping, but for two fairly brilliant quarters and a decent third, Coughlin's cheeks never got to the fire engine red stage. His offense had picked mercilessly on corner back Dimitri Patterson, burning him every which way. Manning, forced to make do with rotating receivers now that Steve Smith is out for the season, completed 23 of 39 passes for 289 yards and 4 touchdowns, with one interception. Steady as he goes, Manning had it all under control. Coughlin's head had yet to explode into tiny little pieces.

But hide the children and bring out the defibrillators, because the Giants offense went into a three-and-out slumber and with 14 seconds left, the Giants on their 29 and preparing to punt, here came "chaos," said Blackburn. Dodge, the kid punter out of East Carolina, said he "was definitely looking (to kick the ball) out of bounds the whole way. I got the snap and tried to get if off quick. Not a good time to hit a line drive, that's for sure."

Most of the distress that had swarmed across Dodge's baby face had disappeared, but he still looked as if he wanted to crawl down the nearest fox hole and emerge in the spring. Giants fans who were weaned on the scary tale of Pisarcik and bloody Herman Edwards now have a new nightmare to describe to their kids and grandkids. There was "The Fumble" -- the giveaway to the Eagles in '78 when all the Giants had to do was take a knee -- and now "The Collapse," made all the worse because it was a team-wide cave.

"You can't give the most explosive returner in the game a line drive in a situation like that," said Dodge, who refused to blame the high snap. "It wasn't rocket science not to kick it to him with 12 seconds left, but sometimes you don't execute as well as you'd like."

Jackson (photo right) bobbled the line drive and panicked some as 81,000 fans went giddy bonkers, but they fell gap-jawed silent when he regained control. "I saw like a little crease and a little lane," he'd say later. He weaved his way around potential, falling-down tacklers, burst into the open field. Down the right side he sped, then he slowed, and practically began to dance, and he glanced back and saw utter destruction. He strolled along the goal line, explaining, "I try to always do something out of the ordinary. I probably would've dove in from the 12-yard line if I could."

Jackson, having battled a foot injury all week, said he didn't intend to tease (he wanted to make sure the clock was completely down to its last zero, wink wink), but if he put any more mustard on that 65-yard scamp, he would have choked. The Eagles had enough to savor, after scoring a team-record 28 points in the final 7:28.

"I've never been around anything like this in my life. It's about as empty as you get to feel in this business, right there," Coughlin said.

Bedlam erupted on the visitor's side, the Eagles players screaming and backslapping and high-fiving and acting as if they had just witnessed the craziest ending to a game ever, which they had. Coughlin tossed his playbook and had some choice words for Dodge as he approached the sideline, but an hour after looking like a small man for showing up his rookie kicker in such a heated moment, the coach had cooled.

But his face was as strained as ever, and he looked as traumatized as any Giants fan. Yes, Dodge kicked a gimee straight at the most dangerous guy on the field, but how many tackles did the Giants flub in the minutes preceding that punt? Yes, Coughlin has one year remaining on his contract, but how many fans would like a different "WWCD bracelet?" (What would Cowher do?)

"There isn't one guy. It should have never come down to that," Coughlin said of Dodge. "Without a doubt it should have never come down to that, but it did and at that point in time with 14 seconds, you're going to punt the ball out of bounds, you're going to get one play and you defend the one play and you go into overtime. It didn't have to end the way it did either."

Safety Deon Grant, noting the media mob around Dodge, and sensing Giants fans were not going to take lightly this loss, against this team, said, "I've got something to say for (Dodge). It should have never come down to him kicking the ball. So he doesn't have any reason to hang his head. Point no fingers at him. It's on the defense. The score was 31-10, eight minutes left, it isn't his fault. I don't even know why you all are interviewing (him). You all should be up there on the defense."

True, because if the Giants defense had been up there on Vick for an entire four quarters instead of regressing into two-handed touch, there'd be no miracle, no reason for Big Blue fans to feel the season slip, slip, slipping away.