As I'm sure you all know by now, the Atlanta Falcons lost a heartbreaking Super Bowl to the New England Patriots. They had a 28-3 lead in the 3rd quarter, before giving up 25 unanswered points that led the game to overtime. The Patriots won the toss in overtime and proceeded to score a touchdown, ending the game and handing the Falcons their second Super Bowl loss in two appearances.

Though it was heartbreaking to watch my team blow such a big lead, there was a large part of me that wasn't surprised. This is the plight of an Atlanta sports fan. Between our professional basketball, football, and baseball teams, only one has ever brought a championship home. That was the Braves in 1995, three years before I was born. The Falcons played in the Super Bowl in 1999, but I was far too young to have any knowledge or memory. Since then, the Braves have played in one World Series, losing in 1999 to the Yankees in four games. The Hawks haven't played in the NBA finals since 1961, and they've only won one championship: 1958, when they were the St. Louis Hawks.

Clearly, Atlanta sports fans haven't had an easy time of it. Nevertheless, we are relentlessly dedicated and loyal to our teams. The rest of the country scoffs at our fandom, writing us off as dispassionate and uninterested. Those of us in Atlanta know the real story. We know that every season begins with so much hope and excitement that maybe, just maybe, this will be the year. We know that every season, at some point, it all comes crashing down. Maybe that's why people think we're dispassionate. Atlanta sports fans have seen the dreams of glory and championships be ripped away in just about every professional sport, in almost every season, pretty much since the teams have come to the city.

This past football season was a dream come true for Atlanta. Dan Quinn created a formidable, powerful, fire-breathing team who truly believed in what they could do in brotherhood. Their belief ignited hope in a city that hasn't seen professional sport success in more than 20 years. The hope lasted longer this year, all the way through three and a half quarters of the Super Bowl. But just like every year, the hopes were dashed.

I'll never forget texting my friends at halftime of the game. Everyone around me could almost taste my cautious optimism, my struggle to repress the thought that this could be the year. This could be the time. I knew I'd been let down before, and I didn't want to be let down again. But this time felt different. It felt true. It felt right. It felt like finally, finally, something good might be happening. As always, it didn't. When James White crossed the goal line and scored the game winning touchdown, I felt the wind leave my sails in the most unpleasantly familiar way. I knew that once again, glory had come so close to us and then been taken away.

But, as an Atlanta sports fan, I know this feeling. I know how to recover and come back with the same passion and fervor I felt for my team when this season started. And this August, it will all start again. I, and the rest of Atlanta, will rise up for our Falcons. What a wonderful thing to be a part of.