The New England Patriots: A Love Story

The reason I started watching the Pats is a simple one. My father bet on the games. He would make bets at the bar, and then watch the games. I watched them too, because these were the days in which you had one TV for one house, and no way was your Dad going to let you watch Scooby Doo when the Pats were playing. Although let me be honest here, most games during this time were blacked out. Blacked out as in not enough fans came to Sullivan Stadium to watch the Pats play. Hard to imagine, I know. Also, I was in love with Patriot Pat. Dreamy.


My true fandom was not experienced until the magical 1985 Cinderella season wherein we started 0-3 and finished 11-5 but still 3rd in the AFC East. We beat the Jets, Raiders and Miami (all on the road) to reach Super Bowl XX against the Chicago Bears. This logo proved untrue.


Let us revisit the 12 year old me after that game:


This was a very painful year for my sports psyche as not only did the Pats have a humiliating loss (fine I said it), the Red Sox lost to the Mets in Game 7 of the World Series. Two words: Bill Buckner. I also turned 13 and still had no boobs. So yeah, it was a fucking hard year.

As time went on, there were lots of games and lots of coaches and lots of players. We even had a 1996 trip to the Super Bowl wherein we suffered a loss to the Packers. The only good thing about this time period is that I got boobs and I started drinking. As any true Boston sports fan knows, drinking helps ease the pain, that and swearing. Swearing is good.

Also Drew Bledsoe went crowd surfing at the Paradise during an Everclear concert (his favorite band). And that right there perfectly sums the 1990s.


The year 2000 began with the firing of Pete Carroll (thank fucking god) and the hiring of one Mr. Bill Belichick in scandal. Bill was the head coach of the Jets, but then resigned, to come to the Pats. Obviously, Mr. Belichick is smart. In the 2000 draft we drafted in the 6th round Thomas Edward Brady. We went on to finish last place in the AFC East. The following year, the Patriots were not expected to do much better. During the second game of the season, Drew Bledsoe was hurt and in came back up QB, Tom Brady. Although Tom lost that game, the Pats went on to finish the season 11-5 with Brady at the helm. We went on to beat the Raiders, Steelers and finally the St. Louis Rams in Super Bowl XXXVI on Adam Vinatieri’s final seconds field goal.



Chills. Anyhoo, the aughts were a fun time to be a Patriots fan. We won two more Super Bowls and then had an almost perfect season that was destroyed by one Mr. David Tyree. How the hell do you catch a ball off your helmet? Anyway, that was bad. Especially since I watched that game with my friend Grant, a Giants Fan. Yeah. Then there was this dude named Bernard Pollard whose main purpose in life is to maim Patriot Players - Tom Brady, Wes Welker and most recently Rob “GRONK!” Gronkowski.

But here we are a mere 5 days from another Super Bowl, Super Bowl XLVI. So that means 26 Super Bowls from my first Pats Superbowl (holy shit I am old). I am nervous, feeing a mixture of dread and happiness. Happiness that we somehow are having a great season with no secondary, dread because of the people named Hakeem Nicks, Mario Manningham and Victor Cruz. I am not going to jinx my team so the only predictions I am willing to make revolve around my beer consumption and cursing. (Over/Under: 5,258). But in the end, it always remains the same. I love me some Patriots football. Go Pats!

I'm Alive

I suppose it would be considered poor form to go on and on about an impending surgery, only the day before the surgery to end all communication. Consider me evil. I did not die on the operating table. Thank god, because I can imagine what that would be like in heaven:

Heaven Inhabitant: Wow, you are pretty young? What happened? Car Accident? Cancer?
Me: Uh, no.
HI: Murder?
Me: No.
HI: Did you fall?
Me: No. I got an IUD, it punctured my uterus, and I had to have surgery, and I guess I died.
HI: That sucks.
Me: Tell me about it.

Dr. Lofquist with her quick and nimble fingers got the IUD out in five minutes. I received two cuts (one in my belly button, and one right on my bikini line, a few bruises and a bottle of vicodin. A win, win for sure. The pain the next day started getting pretty bad, so I made sure to take a vicodin every 3.5 hours. And let me tell you, as I lay in bed that night, after some wine (of course), I felt as if lapping waves were gently taking over my entire body, and it was awesome. It was here I understand that someone could get addicted to pain medication. I totally forgive you Burt Reynolds.

So that is that. My next surgery should be the removal of my lipoma on my shoulder. What is a lipoma you ask? Well it is a sac of fat that just turns up on your body and grows. I have had mine for almost 11 years now, and although initially small it has decided to have a growth spurt it seems. Ah puberty. I need to think about a lie so that my doctor will remove it because it seems that it might be medically unnecessary. How is having a permanent softball size skin growth on your shoulder necessary? Other than a head rest.

Frankly, my life has pretty much been all about Fantasy Football and the return of Mad Men, John Deere Footectomy being amazingly awesome. Finally a TV show delivers. If you don’t know what this is about, I pity you. I leave you with this photo, a Football Sunday:

A Moment of Reflection

I miss football. I miss it so much that when Sunday rolls around and I open my eyes to greet the day, I feel empty and sad. Why is it that I cannot sit around all day drinking beer and watching my fantasy stats automatically update on Direct TV (I love you by the way Direct TV). This period (the one between Football and Baseball) is hard trying time. It is especially difficult because I do not have the basking glow of a Superbowl win by the Pats. I got nothing but a bitter lost which leaves an even bitter taste that no amount of liquor seems to wash away. Why can't football be on every Sunday? Why am I forced to live a life that is only truly meaningful between the months of September and January? I guess I can try to think of the positives - the fact that the Pats are playing the 9ers in San Francisco, a game in which I will attend with wild abandon (unless knocked up that is). But even this does not help. Football, I love you. I miss you. I want some more of you. Boo hoo. Boo freaking hoo.

An Open Letter to Arlen Specter

Dear Stupidhead,

Please leave the New England Patriots, Bill Belichick and the NFL alone. You my sir are an idiot. I don't know what your motivation is, but I believe it is something to do with the fact that you are unloved and need attention - maybe because you have cheek jowls or a stupid first name. I do not know. Were you picked on by football players in high school? I was reading on ESPN this morning that you are particularly concerned with your state's loss to the Patriots. Well boo hoo. First, as all Philly fans know - they are cursed. Second, the Steelers' themselves stand behind Goodell. So what the hell are you doing? I'll let you in on a not so little secret, Bill Belichick is crazy competitive. If possible, I think he would tape an opposing team going poop so that he could examine the bowl to see if there is some sort of secret football language released from their anuses. The man is ultra competitive (something I heart him for, and appreciate being somewhat the same way). He is a nutter, yes. But a nutter with an amazing football mind and obviously a person who holds a grudge - read the almost perfect season. Do not besmirch him, Arlen. Leave him alone, leave the Pats alone and more importantly leave the freaking NFL alone. Spygate is not the MLB steroid mess, it never will - so stop trying to make it that way. Why don't you focus on something else, like the war, or the fact Katrina homeless are in toxic trailers, or even better why there is a shooting every three weeks at a school.

Sincerely,
Cassandra M. McCall

A Patriots Poem

Well, as promised, here is my poem that is an ode to the New England Patriots who will face the Chargers in the AFC Championship Game. My God, how awesome were the football games yesterday? Two of the best games of the year. Playoff Football!!! I love it. And here is my inner dork revealed . . .

The 2007 New England Patriots
A Tale Told In Rhyme

This season began with a draft day surprise,
The Pats traded for Moss, can't believe my eyes!
A 3 million contract and a 3rd round pick?
If you're not a Pats fan, this must make you sick.

Game One a win against the Mangina Jets.
Belichick cheating? Shall we discuss, oh lets!
Did nothing too bad, but fined and dismissed.
Now all say together: Bill Belichick's pissed!!

Next up the Chargers, in a playoff rematch,
Is every Brady throw a touchdown catch?
The defense was outstanding in halting LT,
How was that on your Visio HDTV?

Next to come were the Bills, Bengals and Browns
But nothing could stop the Patriots touchdowns.
Ocho Cinco manhandled, Lee Evans too,
And Romeo, oh Romeo, what could you do?

The next game was against the Cowboys and Romo,
Could the Patriots stop the menace named TO?
Of course they did, a fan always believes
Brady was hot and threw for five TDs.

AFC East rival the Dolphins then Skins
Forgive me father, for these football sins
Decimation is the only word to describe
Combined score: 101 to 35.

Next was the test of the Indianapolis Colts
The Pats losing at the half, oh my it revolts.
A comeback with win, the Pats don't disgrace,
Whoopee, look at that, it’s the Manning face.

A match with the Buffalo Bills yet again,
Destruction the result - 56 to 10.
The Eagles with Freeley surprise us all.
The game was close, but Pats do not fall.

The Ravens, the Steelers, the Jets and Miami
If this were a game show, then bring on the whammy.
Undefeated with only one game to win
Here come's New York, and Tom Coughlin's G-men.

The game was closer than anyone thought
Eli Manning will win? Oh god, I think not.
Moss and Brady combine for the records and win,
Is that quiet I hear, 72 Dolphin?

A perfect season had, but three more to go.
Welcome to the Belichick Tom Brady show.
So in conclusion, let us remove our hats,
God bless the game of football and of course the Pats.

I read this during halftime, and I do have to say that it went over well. Now if only I can get a job writing rhymes about things. I don't know who to sacrifice for this, but I am willing. Dr. Cassandra Suess has a ring, does it not?