When watching the conference championship games this weekend, keep an eye out for a phenomenon that I like to call the "secret stomach punch" (thanks to ESPN Sports Guy Bill Simmons for the inspiration for the name). This phenomenon occurs when a broadcast announcer makes a seemingly innocuous reference to a performance by one of the players in the game they're announcing, but in fact it's a random punch to the gut to some unsuspecting fans watching the contest.

Vikings first to feel the blow

Case in point; this last weekend, during the Eagles-Giants game, it was revealed that Eagles kicker David Akers had made a certain number of playoff field goals in a row, one away from breaking the record set by Gary Anderson, long time kicker for the Minnesota Vikings. No big deal, right? But there's a hidden fact in that statement that caused every Vikings fan watching to want to shove a toothpick under their fingernails.

The fact is this: the field goal that Gary Anderson finally missed to end his record string of successful conversions was the one in the forth quarter of the 1998/99 NFC Title Game between the Vikings and the Atlanta Falcons in the Metrodome, one of the most truly painful losses in NFL History. The Vikings were 16-1, lead by a juggernaut offense that included Randall Cunningham, Randy Moss, Chris Carter, Robert Smith... and, yes, Gary Anderson, who completed a perfect regular season by making all 35 of his field goal attempts. He had a chance to ice the game with a field goal attempt that would stretch the lead to 10 points with 2 minutes to play; he also would have stretched his NFL record for consecutive playoff field goals converted. He missed his first field goal all season; the Falcons marched down the field and scored the game-tying touchdown and then eventually won in overtime. Vikings fans everywhere are still in shock.

Fast forward to last weekend

Now we're back to the Eagles-Giants game, and David Akers lines up for a random 3-pointer, when and the announcers casually drop the Gary Anderson reference. Boom! Vikings fans feel like they got kicked in the guts. They struggle for breath, feel nauseated... and to make matters worse, it was completely out of left field. They had no time to prepare, because why on earth would anyone bring up That Game at that particular time?

I noticed this happening the moment it occurred, and felt bad for all Vikings fans watching. This sympathy, however, ironically turned to empathy in the second game of the afternoon: Steelers vs. Chargers in Pittsburgh, for the right to play the Ravens in the AFC Title Game the next weekend. I'm sitting back, only half watching the game, doing a few other things at the same timeâ??answering email, checking some stats online, a bit of writingâ??when out of nowhere it hits. Bam! A random kick to the gut.

Seahawk fans next on the block

As it happens, Steelers' running back "Fast Willy" Parker has only had one run in the playoffs that is longer than 25 yards... which was, of course, the Super Bowl XL-clinching 75 yard run against my beloved Seahawks.

The worst part is, this is the first season in years the 'Hawks haven't made the playoffs. I had already dealt with this fact—they were statistically out of the playoffs by the third week, it seemed—but all of the sudden I had to relive that terrible 2006 day in Detroit. I won't rehash all the standard Seahawk fan complaints about officiating... suffice to say the game was maddening beyond belief. In the end, however, the real reason they lost—besides Shaun Alexander's classic turtle job—was because of an injury to free safety Marquand Manuel in the first half. After holding the Steelers to record low yardage in the first quarter thanks to a defense playing out of its mind, the 'Hawks D was hamstrung by Manuel's injury, which opened the door for the two plays that won the game for the Steelers: the 75 yard run on a short yardage situation by "Free Willy"; and the Antwaan Randle-El touchdown pass to Hines Ward. Both of these plays are stomped if Manuel is still in the game. I am utterly convinced of this fact.

The previous paragraph, of course, ran through my head in approximately two-thirds of a second after the reference to Parker's Super Bowl run, and I had to chew back the bile that rose in my throat.

Thus is the power of the hidden stomach punch.