The Baltimore Ravens, Super Bowl XLVII Champions.

Early in the third quarter, moments after Jacoby Jones' electrifying 108 yard kickoff return, I let myself utter these words. We were up 22 points, we had all the momentum, Kaepernic was playing like a QB with 10 wins under his belt, not a young phenom. We were rolling, we were winning.

And then the lights went out.

The fans were befuddled, the commentators cut off, and the field crew scrambled alongside officials to piece together the situation. All the while, the players sat, and waited. The Ravens stretched, the 49ers planned, talked, adjusted. They came out, punted, Ravens came out, punted. And then the 49ers came alive. A strong drive by Kaepernic led to a score. Ray Rice fumbles on the ensuing drive, San Fran makes the kick. The Ravens sturggle to gain yards, punt again. San Francisco scores, nearly ties, but fails on the conversion. And then, Joe Flacco finds his momentum once more. Runs become effective, receivers do their job, and Boldin earns every penny of his contract. They come up, 34 to 29. San Francisco drives, drives, drives to the four yard line. The run is stuffed. The pass is incomplete. The ball is knocked out, incompletion forced. Jimmy Smith and Michael Crabtree push and shove, Kaepernic overthrows anyway. Game, set, match. Rice runs, Rice runs, and Pierce runs again. The punting unit comes on with 11 seconds in the game. Koch takes the snap, holds it, runs around, gives them the safety. 4 seconds, Check. The kick is away, Ginn to return, he's to the 30, the 40, 50, and he's down! Checkmate, the clock is out, the Ravens win it, 34-31.

The confetti drops. The bench storms the field. The brothers meet, John elated, Jim bitterly disappointed. The 49ers sulk their ways off the field, littered with the confetti that doesn't belong to them. The Ravens cheer, celebrate, touch the vaunted trophy. The record-setting quarterback of controversy and postseason phenom Flacco takes his prize, joining the lauded MVP elite. Ray Lewis cries and prays, going out on top, going out a champion. We all sit and home, we cheer, we yell, we celebrate. Some of us cry, some of us drunkenly dance. Personally, I did a few squirrel dances, and slumped on the couch when I got home. Right now, the players are probably celebrating the high of their lives, indulging in the trophy, living the dream. Most have never experienced before, and some will never feel it again. I don't know if we'll ever win another Super Bowl in my lifetime. It could be next year, it could be another 12 years, it could be decades. But even if we repeat every year for the next century, none will be quite so special as this one tonight.

Go Ravens, Go Champions, Go 32nd overall draft pick. Go Players, Go Fans. We made it guys. We won.