We're not worthy: What else remains to be said of the Patriots?

Michigander Dale Price suggests an updating of the Braveheart Scots warrior chant: Brady! Brady! Brady! (Blue body paint optional.)

The Globe's Bob Ryan is spot-on: the Pats are old Celts, reincarnated.

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Somewhere, Houston Antwine is smiling.

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Jess Richardson, who played for both Eagles and Patriots, was the last lineman to play without a facemask.

Amazingly, he never lost any teeth, although he broke his nose at least ten times. According to his wife, he would reset the broken nose himself: “He’d put a little Vaseline on his finger, stick it up his nose and just put it back in place again.” He also preferred to play without thigh pads.

Fantastic faceguards from football helmet history are chronicled by Uni Watch.

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Raise a Schaefer to the memory of the old Pat Patriot, seen at upper left, described by his cartoonist creator as looking like "a lopsided Chinaman."

The football-hiking minuteman lives on at the Helmet Hut, an online museum of vintage gridiron headgear, and at the Coniglio family's shrine to the old AFL.

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Contrarian Llama Butcher Steve grew up in Connecticut liking neither the Patriots nor, for some reason, the Giants, the ur-team of choice in New England, and is unenthused over the Super Bowl.

If you were a Pats fan when they sucked, if you got arrested throwing wing nuts at real NFL teams coming out of the visitor's clubhouse at Schaeffer Stadium, enjoy the party for the next two weeks. I'm sure Son of Nixon, the Irish Elk and others fit into this category, and I wish them well in their well deserved period of annoying gloating.

But otherwise, stuff a sock in it.

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Now playing: "Jacksonville Gal" by the Cotton Pickers.