So this is what it felt like to be a St. Louis Rams fan on this very day six years ago.

This is what it felt like to feel the tent fold in on top of you. To see the infallible fail. To hear everyone everywhere so often singing the praises of your team that you, too, start to believe they are invincible.

This is what it feels like to be on the losing end of an epic upset, and to be the shocked instead of the shocker.

We'd forgotten these feelings since February of 2002, at least as far as football is concerned, because the Patriots had Tom Brady. They had Bill Belichick. They had a way for getting the job done when it mattered most. And nothing in football matters more than the Super Bowl, where that quarterback and coach combination had been perfect in three trips.

But Super Bowl XLII dealt us a rude reminder of reality, and, really, the message came delivered in the same terms the Patriots sent it to St. Louis in 2001. Back then, New England narrowed the talent gap with a better game plan, better execution, and by physically pounding football's best offense. And that's exactly what the Giants did on Sunday.

Just as the Patriots took every opportunity to pummel receivers Isaac Bruce and Torry Holt, the Giants made a point to pressure Tom Brady. Whatever it took, they were intent on getting in his face, hurrying his passes, hitting him at every chance, and keeping the league's MVP out of his comfort zone. And just as the Rams were soft enough to let the Pats do what they desired six years ago, the Pats were equally weak on Sunday.

Some of it had to do with Steve Spagnuolo's quality play calling — there were times when two linebackers broke up the middle, leaving a lone running back to block them both — but the Giants' defensive coordinator looked even more like a genius because the Patriots' highly praised offensive line was as bad as its been all year.

Logan Mankins and Matt Light were particularly awful, given the reputations they've built as Pro Bowlers, but there's certainly enough blame to be shared by the entire group. They were totally owned — not only by New York's star-studded front four, but also by anyone else who sought a spot in New England's back field. Linebacker Kawika Mitchell had a sack. Safety Gibril Wilson forced Brady to hurry a throw.

And, as a result, Brady ended up much like Kurt Warner did in the 36th Super Bowl. For most of the game he was under heavy pressure, and unable to do many of the things that made him the NFL's best player in that season, and by the time he figured it out it was too late.

Brady's best drive of the night was his second-to-last, when he hit on seven of his first eight passes before connecting with Randy Moss for the go-ahead score. Warner's was a final drive that yielded the tying touchdown. Both put their teams in prime position for victories. But the heroics of each were ultimately undone by a team that was too tough, too resilient, too determined to be denied.

Whether it was Pierre Woods getting a recovered fumble ripped from his grasp at the bottom of the pile, or repeatedly failing to make a block, or showing up a tick too late in pass coverage, the Patriots just didn't seem to want it as bad as the Giants. That's disappointing because we've come to know New England as the league's best-prepared and most focused team in football.

But perhaps it's now time to acknowledge that Belichick, Brady and the rest of the bunch are all human. And humans are naturally imperfect. We in New England used to fall back on the fact we had a better quarterback and better coach than the opponent when arguing in favor of the Patriots, but look at the playoff losses that have punctuated each of the last three seasons and maybe that's not such a flawless argument anymore.

Brady, for one, has now been outplayed by both Manning brothers and even Jake Plummer(!?!) since 2005. And in the meanwhile, Belichick and his coaching staff haven't exactly shone brightly either. In losing to the Broncos three seasons ago, his club wasn't prepared and played sloppy. Last year, in spite of leading throughout, his offense ran just five running plays in the second half and left the Colts enough clock for a comeback.

And then on Sunday, Belichick seemed to be totally outclassed by former colleague Tom Coughlin. Not only was his team not ready for the Giants' pass rush, nor did there seem to be a consistent plan to at least slow it down — more screens maybe? — but the master of halftime adjustments didn't seem to do much differently despite going into the break with just a 7-3 lead.

He also may have cost his team the opportunity for three points by choosing to try and convert on fourth and 13 against a staunchly effective defense rather than try to kick from 50 yards with a kid who was making them from that long in pregame warmups, and has made both kicks he's attempted from that distance during his two-year career. One of them was plenty pressure-packed, too, coming in the playoffs last year against San Diego.

How good might those three points have looked at the end of the night?

The answer, really, is irrelevant. All that matters is that the Patriots lost; and that's particularly sad because with their setback came so many shattered opportunities. Gone is the chance to go 19-0. Gone is the chance to win four Super Bowls in seven seasons. Gone is a piece of Brady's previously pristine Super Bowl mystique. Gone is the chance to silence the last lingering voices of SpyGate. Gone is the chance to proclaim New England the best team ever. Gone is the chance to shush all the haters nationwide who couldn't wait to see the Patriots fail.

And, who knows? Gone, too, may be this era of unmatched excellence for the New England Patriots. Don't forget, the Rams were a budding dynasty back in 2001, ready to win their second title in three seasons. But after they were beaten by the Patriots things were never the same. The next year they went 7-9, and though they were 12-4 in 2003, they haven't been better than 8-8 since then.

The greatest show on turf got old fast — which is scary considering Warner was 30 years old when he lost to the Pats, and Brady turned 30 last August. That isn't to say Brady will get hurt the next year, like Warner did, or that New England's seven years of success are over.

It's just to say that we New Englanders should've maybe learned a lesson from those St. Louis Rams fans in 2001. We should've seen the danger in a tough team with a talented defense and an emerging quarterback that was peaking at the perfect time. After all, no one should've known the magic capabilities of such a club better than us.

So from here on let's not take victory for granted. And — while keeping the faith that makes us fans — let's not simply assume success is inevitable, because even for the best coach and best quarterback of his era, it isn't. Realizing as much, and being realistic with our expectations will make all the wins a little bit sweeter.

And — as I sit, still stewing at 4 a.m. — the losses like this one might suck a whole lot less.