Members of the New York Giants have stopped vomiting. Members of the New England Patriots have put away their pretend slings, casts and ankle boots. It must be almost game time.

The Giants and their fans should be singing Hallelujahs that this game is being played in Arizona. They have made a season of their road schedule, going a magnificent 10-1, winning 10 straight to get here. It’s a blessing they don’t have to play this game at Giants Stadium where they were a miserable 3-5. If anything, this should lead Giants fans in New Jersey to sell their season tickets and subscribe to DirecTV’s NFL ticket.

The Patriots and their fans need to be careful. All of the talk of 19-0 and destiny - including a book entitled ‘19-0, The Historic Championship Season of New England’s Unbeatable Patriots’ that was published this past week by the Boston Globe - is the sort of cockiness that comes back to bite you in the butt. What do the Scriptures say? Pride goeth before… a victory? I think not.

Make no mistake about it, the Patriots started playing this game a week ago. Bill Belichick dispatched Tom Brady to Manhattan. “Put an ankle boot on. Buy some flowers. Let them all see you limping around New York City while we’re back here practicing.” Genius! It worked. For a week we saw nothing on ESPN, NFL Network or FSN but a pathetic looking Brady limping about the City, delivering flowers to his super model. The problem is that Tom Coughlin didn’t just fall off the roach-coach. If anyone thinks for a minute he began preparing for Matt Cassell under center, there’s a stadium in Indianapolis I want to sell you.

Enter Plax Burress. First of all, he really is a trickster. He wants us to call him PLEX-ico, but spells his name PLAX-ico. Sort of like that guy in Wisconsin… you know - Brett FAVER. Well, as soon as members of the press corps got his name pronunciation ironed out, they began reporting on his absence from practice. Is it his knee? An ankle? Does he have a boot on like Brady? One thing is for sure: his mouth isn’t broken. He surfaced long enough to predict a 23-17 Giants victory over the Patriots. He qualified himself, however: he went on to define the word ‘prediction’ and demonstrate that a prediction is not the same thing as a guarantee. Didn’t Bill Clinton get in trouble for busting out a can of Webster’s Dictionary when he should have just repented?

What’s with the halftime entertainment? Tom Petty? Is he still breathing? What? Was Bob Dylan not available? Here’s a prediction for you: No wardrobe malfunctions! The NFL is still reeling from Janet Jackson’s Super Oops. Last year it was Mick Jagger and now Tom Petty. The likelihood of a 60-something rocker busting out a nipple is slim to none. And they’ve covered the bases: If it does happen they can always blame it on dementia.

It’s almost game time. It’s almost Preacher Prognostication time, too. I want to calculate my numbers and sharpen my pencil one last time. I either need to agree with all my newfound Giants fan-friends, or I need to be able to at least get the last laugh. I thought about offering them a little wager. If the Pats lost, I’d send them some lobster. If the Pats won they could send me some… I don’t know… pollution. But gambling is a sin - just ask your baptist friends. So, while I’m giving it a last minute review, here’s a couple of tips for you: (1) Go order the 19-0 book. If they win it will be a great gift to give the Patriots fan in your life. If they lose, it will be worth a lot more! (2) No wardrobe malfunction from Tom Petty - and, no more than four chords and a one octave range. Like shooting fish in a barrel. My Super Prediction is coming. Stay tuned.