So did anybody out there watch Super Bowl XXXVI?

OK, you’re right. In this championship-starved corner of the sporting landscape, that’s a little bit like asking if anybody out there uses oxygen. Heck, I pop in the tape about once a week just to make sure the New England Patriots still win.

They remain undefeated, matching the record of the Miracle on Ice team of 1980 and the dastardly 1986 New York Mets.

Pat Summerall and John Madden still openly root for the St. Louis Rams. Summerall still accuses the videotaped Adam Vinatieri of hooking a long-range field goal attempt in practice that even my myopic eyes could see split the uprights with ease. Madden still believes that Tom Brady should take a knee and whisper a prayer to the patron saint of overtime.

Nothing new under the sun, Uh, I mean dome.

The true broadcast highlight of that watershed victory was lost, however, on anyone glued to the projection screen. It came from Patriots radio announcers Gil Santos and Gino Cappelletti, who abandoned all pretense of objectivity on Week 11 of that magical season and went absolutely bonkers when Vinatieri’s 48-yard field goal cleared the crossbar by a country mile at the final gun.

“The Best Team in the National Football League!” Santos exulted.

Hold it right there. Didn’t believe it then; don’t believe it now. Anybody who doesn’t believe the Rams were The Best Team in the NFL that year ought to have their officially licensed cap examined to make sure the dye isn’t leaking into their brain.

Chalk up the Patriots’ championship to a combination of splendid coaching and some sort of Divine destiny. Over the course of nine weeks, Bill Belichick molded a relatively non-descript bunch of ragamuffins (how else would you classify Roman Phifer, Bobby Hamilton, J.R. Redmond and Jermaine Wiggins?) into his image.

New England was never The Best Team in the league, merely The Better of Two Teams every time Saturday or Sunday rolled around. With a survive-and-advance mentality seemingly suited for the U.S. Open tennis tournament or NCAA Basketball’s March Madness, the Patriots prospered and spat upon the pundits’ parade.

Before we all squawk about this winter ushering in some sort of encore, let the record show that there are absolutely no parallels between the Patriots of 2003-04 and their predecessors, two seasons removed.

These Patriots are the best team in the National Football League.

How is that possible, you ask? How could The Best Team in pro football nearly blow a 21-point, second-half lead against the Colts, a team they’ve owned for years? How does a team that didn’t even exist when the Patriots stormed to a Super Bowl title, the Texans, force The Best Team to play an entire fifth quarter in order to shoo them away?

Welcome to the NFL, where the glass ceiling dividing bliss from torment is about one-sixteenth of an inch thick. We’re in an era in which The Best Team customarily misses the playoffs the next year. It’s a time when most would-be division champions are one key injury away from becoming a two-touchdown underdog to the Bengals.

The Patriots are The Best Team because their nucleus of stars (Tom Brady, Troy Brown, Richard Seymour, Ty Law and the suddenly human Vinatieri) is better than everyone else’s arsenal of All-Pros.

Not to mention that The Best Team is blessed with The Best Coach in the business at the moment. Bill Belichick has guided the Patriots to eight consecutive wins while dealing with more sick days than a kindergarten teacher and icing more injuries than any school nurse. If Terry Francona accomplishes half as much as Belichick with his second chance as a leader of men, now would be a good time to find out Curt Schilling’s ring size.

After New England crosses the T’s on the minor detail of restoring itself as The Best Team in the AFC East by mauling Miami in post-blizzard Foxboro this afternoon, does anyone else scare you?

Certainly you can’t be worried about defenseless Kansas City. When the Patriots survive a close game, it’s against Tennessee, Indianapolis or at worst, Houston. When the Chiefs live to tell about a 28-24 triumph, they’ve typically just polished off San Diego or Oakland.

Yeah, Oakland. Remember when they allegedly were The Best Team in the league? How do you spell waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah?

Last time I looked at the schedule, New England already beat Tennessee. Philadelphia, too. The only other borderline powerhouse out there in the parity-stricken NFL is St. Louis, and they won’t hurt anybody until resident genius Mike Martz realizes that a healthy Kurt Warner is the premier quarterback in the league and stops making him wear a headset.

It all looks cut and dried to me. Start warming up your vocal chords, Gil.

Kalle Oakes is sports editor and can be reached by e-mail at koakes@sunjournal.com.

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