NFL

Another Super Bowl win and Giants can join Steelers in dynasty territory

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They were truly Monsters of the Monongahela, a 1970s dynasty that rivaled the Lombardi Packers of the 1960s and the Joe Montana 49ers of the 1980s.

And so as the Steelers come to town Sunday, it is the perfect time to sit up and take notice that maybe, just maybe, we are in the midst of a Big Blue Dynasty that began with Super Bowl XLII, continued with Super Bowl XLVI, and would be sealed in February with another Lombardi Trophy hoisted high enough to the heavens for Wellington Mara and Bob Tisch to reach down and touch.

No one around the Giants, least of all Eli Manning and Tom Coughlin, wants to think about Dynasty, certainly not in this wild-and-wacky NFL, and certainly not with the Steelers themselves kicking off a treacherous second-half schedule that can yet conjure up memories of previous recent Big Blue swoons.

Sorry, fellas: Three championships in five seasons gets it done.

If Coughlin and Manning, who have unceremoniously interrupted the Bill Belichick-Tom Brady New England Dynasty, lead the Giants to the first repeat since Jimmy Johnson and Troy Aikman did it in Super Bowls XXVII and XXVIII, that would make five Super Bowl championships for the Giants — one behind the record-setting Steelers who won four Super Bowls in six seasons (IX, X, XIII, XIV).

Justin Tuck first used the D word when the 2008 Giants reported to Albany to defend their third crown, and since he isn’t a psychic, he had no idea Plaxico Burress would carry an unlicensed Glock into a Manhattan nightclub and shoot himself in the leg, and his team’s Super Bowl dream in the heart. Since the last parade down the Canyon of Heroes, Tuck has taken the D word out of mothballs, and you might too if Manning was your quarterback.

One for the thumb would make the Giants undeniable Monsters of the Meadowlands.

Do or Dynasty, boys.

If you think it’s an Impossible Dream, you haven’t been paying attention.

The Big Blue formula happens to be the same one the Steelers used when they dominated the NFL: an elite quarterback, and a fearsome pass rush.

The part of Terry Bradshaw is played by Manning. Bradshaw, a Louisiana country boy with a howitzer for an arm, won four Super Bowls, presumably once he learned how to spell C-A-T after you spotted him the C and the A. Manning, a New Orleans boy who could probably spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious if you only spotted him the S, is gunning for his third Super Bowl crown.

Bradshaw was fortunate to be throwing to Lynn Swann and John Stallworth, two of the four Hall of Famers (Jack Lambert and Mike Webster are the others) from the wondrous 1974 draft class. For the Giants, the parts of Swann and Stallworth are played by Victor Cruz and Hakeem Nicks.

There will never be another Steel Curtain, but the part of Mean Joe Greene is played by Jason Pierre-Paul, and the part of L.C. Greenwood belongs to Osi Umenyiora. Tuck can be Dwight White and Linval Joseph can be Ernie Holmes.

The part of Chuck Noll, the-same-guy-every-day head coach, is being played by Coughlin. “They talk about the Vince Lombardi Era, but I think the Chuck Noll Era is even greater,” Blount said in “100 Yards of Glory.’’

The similarities essentially end there, because Manning can’t turn around and hand off to Franco Harris. And middle linebackers Chase Blackburn and Mark Herzlich, for all their smarts, won’t remind anyone of toothless intimidator Lambert. “Yes, I get satisfaction out of hitting a guy and seeing him lay there a while,” Lambert said in the book. And Corey Webster can be a shutdown corner on Any Given Sunday, but Blount was a Hall of Famer who would have given Calvin Johnson fits.

There is no Immaculate Reception in Giants lore, but Manning-to-David Tyree in Super Bowl XLII is nearly as miraculous.

“You don’t get any more traditional than the New York Giants and the Pittsburgh Steelers,” Coughlin said.

Do-or-Dynasty from here to Super Bowl XLVII.

steve.serby@nypost.com