Undefreakinfeated!

Well, as I said in my second or third entry here, WTF did you think was going to happen?

You take a team a couple of flu shots from its fourth super bowl in six years, infuse the greatest flood of free agent talent in recent memory, throw in the death of a beloved teammate, then put everybody's back against the wall with talk of asterisks... voila. Instant History.

And so, our beloved Patriots stand like a colossus astride the world of professional football. Tom Brady solidifies his claim to Best Quarterback of All Time with a record 50 touchdowns. Randy Moss sets the record for touchdown receptions at 23, although Jerry Rice (as he'll tell anybody who'll listen) caught 22 in 12 games. Our current winning streak stands at 16 games; it will be 19 if and when this team completes its trouncing of the remainder of the league. Some time in the fall of 2008, most likely, these New England Patriots will break the 21-game winning streak record set by the 2003-2004 Patriots. And so on, and so on, and so on.

My concerns about Laurence Maroney have been proven greatly exaggerated in the last three or four games. Oh, and did I mention, the Pats have been playing pretty vanilla football to close out the year? Something tells me Bill Belichick has something for the Jags, Titans, or Steelers, whichever the case may be.

And seeing this unfold from his South Florida Fortress of Solitude, an unmasked middle-aged man points one heroic finger skyward and shouts, "To the Pressmobile!"

Yes, gentle reader, whenever order, history, and memory are threatened, one man stands head and shoulders above the crowd, metaphorically at least. That man is Mercury, speedy messenger from yesteryear, defender of sports almanacs, and superannuated narcoback from the 1972 Miami Dolphins.

1972? 1972???

Yes, the 1972 Miami Dolphins are in the news again, as they are when any team approaches the mark the Patriots have set -- a perfect regular season. And you can bet they'll be in the news from now until the time the Patriots have completed a perfect post-season. Why? Because the 1972 Miami Dolphins went 17-0.

Undefreakinfeated.

For most of us, the '72 Dolphins were a lovely sports memory. It's actually been cute to see a bunch of crusty old curmudgeons pop the champagne when the last undefeated team loses, in their annual toast to the failure of others.

But this year, they're panicking. Don Shula's been trying to stoke the asterisk fires, then retracting. Garo Yepermian -- the Original Idiot Kicker, whose main claim to fame that year was supplying the Redskins' glimmer of hope during the super bowl -- says he hopes the Patriots bring their camera with them to the hall of fame.

But no other member of the 1972 Miami Dolphins shines as brightly in the firmament of assholery as that rap star from before rap, that paleo-pinhead, that one man neologism (as regards the word Regretro,) Mercury Morris.

"Don't call me when you're in my town," advised the always-gracious Morris, "call me when you're in my neighborhood."

Well, we're in the neighborhood now. And now we hear - wait, let me remember how this goes - that:

1) You can never equal the 17-0 Dolphins by going 19-0, because, as I understand it, being the first team that won fewer games is bigger;

2) Nobody remembers the name of the second guy to climb Everest, they remember the name of Edmund Hillary, the first guy; and

3) The Patriots can't equal what was done in the past, because only the Dolphins could do that (since they live in the past,) and they're not playing anymore.

All this from a guy whose last endorsement deal dried up because when Coke ditched New Coke and went back to Coke Classic, they weren't allowed to go all the way back to the pre-1904 formula.

Of course, poor Mr. Morris' public floundering is simply the symptom of another addiction Morris has nurtured in himself and pushed on the rest of us, an addiction to schadenfreude, or joy in the misfortune of others.

Naturally, you may say. Why should he not want to be immortal? And to be immortal, year after year, like clockwork, someone else has to suffer. In 2004 it was the Colts. In 1998 it was the Vikings. This year, it's the New England Patriots.

But when the moment comes, as it has this year, that the designated sufferer doesn't obligingly complete the narrative, there is a right way and a wrong way to approach that fact.

You cross a line when you don't give credit where it's due.

Here's a thought: Since the Pats have just completed the first ever 16-0 regular season, maybe old Merc should give them props for that. Since the Pats are not able to parlay a spending spree into a championship, as teams before the salary cap/free agency era could, maybe he should mention that as well.

In short, with his legacy (as it stood until this season,) about to be forgotten in the popular mind, Mercury Morris controlled his own destiny.

He can not fight it: The Patriots now own the only perfect regular season in the salary cap/free agency era, and the only perfect 16-game regular season.

if the Patriots win three more games the Patriots will be the sole owners of a perfect 19-game season. The '72 Dolphins' legacy is already forever changed, and will be further changed if the 2007 Patriots complete the sweep. And again, Mercury Morris can do nothing about it.

But Mercury Morris, Don Shula, Garo Yepremian, and the rest of that '72 team can control how they react.

They can show themselves gracious sportsmen who've moved on, who understand that the perfect '72 season is only one facet of who they are. They can say that records were made to be broken.

As to controversies and asterisks, think about Hank Aaron's treatment of Barry Bonds, well known Frankenstein's monster and new home run king: He just ignored him. He didn't want to be present for the event, and he said he had no thoughts on Bonds. None.

Curt? Sure. Impugning Bonds? No. He stood back and let history judge the man. Well, history and a grand jury.

As a result, Hank Aaron looks like he has moved on with his life. Even if he says he'd rather be fishing than watch his record broken, you at least know he likes to fish.

From the looks of their behavior, the sole past-time of the 1972 Dolphins is the protection of the 1972 season.

And that's how Mercury Morris, Don Shula, Garo Yepremian and the rest will be remembered, as a result of their public comments in 2007.

Oh and by the way? Everest is 19-0. They climbed K-2.