The end is near when New Yorkers start embracing the underdog role:

In this town, a sports championship usually consists of the Yankees winning in October. Which is to say, another year to hang on the stadium walls, another ticker-tape parade.

Yet no matter how good such victories may feel — and it’s getting somewhat harder to remember — Yankee championships have always felt a bit more like the divine right of a king than the conquest of a warrior; a bit more about the payrolls than the putouts; and, when you really get down to it, a bit more of the same.

Not so the Giants’ stunning win in the Super Bowl on Sunday night, a victory that actually felt victorious. In the unfamiliar role of the underdog, New Yorkers finally had a chance to savor the sweet taste of a triumph that wasn’t only unexpected but was utterly deserved.

“The wine tastes better when you think the cup is full of coffee,” said Paul Majors, a superintendent from the Bronx who stepped onto a downtown No. 2 train Monday morning in an Eli Manning jersey and a dark blue Giants cap. By Mr. Majors’s lights, the great enjoyment of the game revolved around a single word: “surprise.”