I haven't blogged in a spell, not that I'm not still the 452nd biggest Patriots fan in all the world! But this season I've also become a fan of the game itself! The Monday Night Packers/Vikings matchup at Lambeau was epic! I think I finally officially understand what the pocket is supposed to be after watching the Vikings offensive line protect Favre for, what felt like, hours! Watching the Saints go through defenses like a warm knife through butter was kinda hella damn impressive. However, when the Patriots are the butter and you run a Patriots fan site, well, you see the conundrum.
One of the worst moments of the season was the loss in Miami. The look on Tom Brady's face on the sidelines was heartbreaking. Sure, he was in physical pain, but the emotional toll of blowing the halftime lead, ending the game by throwing an interception, and racking up the first consecutive loss in forever, well, I wanted to give him a hug.
Then the announcer said "and with the fifth loss of the season, the Patriots fall to mediocre."
I was so sad.
And then I panicked. We play the Bills away! Jacksonville is tough! The Jets and the Dolphins are only a game behind! Articles started predicted New England wouldn't clinch the East. I believed them. I settled into "there's always next year" and began to root for more Chiefs losses since New England gets their draft picks next year. We'll get us some cornerbacks! That'll show 'em! But my boys came back. Sure, the win in Buffalo was shaky. That Buffalo recovered the damn on-side kick made my stomach turn. Oh, thank God that the Bills are ever the Bills! But Sunday, at home, against the Jags, they were running like a well freaking oiled machine of awesome! Is Wes Welker even human?? Who cares! He's ours! All ours! After the third hookup, I renamed touchdowns "Bradytomosses" Rolls right off the tongue!
As I said in the post about the Indianapolis game, I love the heart and sheer fearlessness of my team. Oh, speaking of the chickenshit, bland, lame-o Colts, I hope New England road to the Superbowl goes through Lucas. We will light their asses up and leave stupid face Manning and his coward coaching staff right where they belong come Superbowl Sunday: home watching the Pats roll to number 4 on TV!
And that's not just because I'm terrified of Rivers and San Diego. No, it's cause the Colts are bitches. Yeah, I said. And they need to be put down as such. Okay, and cause I'm terrified of San Diego.
The Patriots may not be the best team in the NFL this year. Heck, they're not even the best team in the AFC. But they have the most heart, the most experience in the post season and I'd put my squad up against any other post season squad and like our chances.
Let's go Pats, let's do it again!!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Patriots in Indiana
This will be the third most delicious win of the season. After Saints and Jets, of course.
In Tully Banta-Cain and Vince Wilfork I trust!
GO RIOTS. BREAK THAT MANNING IN HALF.
In Tully Banta-Cain and Vince Wilfork I trust!
GO RIOTS. BREAK THAT MANNING IN HALF.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Live blogging Pats-Fish
Did you hear the screams of agony? Then you know, Brady was just intercepted.
Oy.
We have them at 3rd and 10 and let them get a first down? Ugh. Where's that snowstorm I ordered?
YEEEEAAHHHHH, BUUDDDYYY! TOUCHDOWN NEW ENGLAND!
Lemon. Live by the Tuck rule, die by the Tuck rule.
Well, my mother went and ruined my whole liveblogging attempt. I barely got to watch the game on DVR delay by the time it ended...but WHEW!!
As the guy from the Patridge Family said: "what was I so afraid of!"
I loved how Brady kept letting Moss make up for getting beat for the INT on New England's first drive. That's love between those two!
Oh, and I'm totally feeling the ACHT-CHUNG chants!
And according to Patriots Insider, the Scorboard put up Joey Porter's stats after the game: ZERO TACKLES, ZERO SACKS. Which sounds about right for a big fat ZERO!
Not in our house.
Back to South New York for you looooo-zers.
Oy.
We have them at 3rd and 10 and let them get a first down? Ugh. Where's that snowstorm I ordered?
YEEEEAAHHHHH, BUUDDDYYY! TOUCHDOWN NEW ENGLAND!
Lemon. Live by the Tuck rule, die by the Tuck rule.
Well, my mother went and ruined my whole liveblogging attempt. I barely got to watch the game on DVR delay by the time it ended...but WHEW!!
As the guy from the Patridge Family said: "what was I so afraid of!"
I loved how Brady kept letting Moss make up for getting beat for the INT on New England's first drive. That's love between those two!
Oh, and I'm totally feeling the ACHT-CHUNG chants!
And according to Patriots Insider, the Scorboard put up Joey Porter's stats after the game: ZERO TACKLES, ZERO SACKS. Which sounds about right for a big fat ZERO!
Not in our house.
Back to South New York for you looooo-zers.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Guts and Glory
This post belongs on either my poker blog or my football blog. However, I make poor decisions, as you are about to see. Plus, I like to take my once a year shot at making a convert to poker and football out of Kaz, Tae and pearatty.
So, here we go. Hey! Stop that stopping reading. I see you.
Last night I was in a deepstack tournament in Atlantic City playing for a $14,000 first place prize. I had been catching cards AND playing well. Through nine hours, I amassed a fairly large amount of chips. I was winning at least two hands an orbit and doubling my stack every hour. This is how you win tournaments. However, even after 9 hours, there were still 60 people out of 260 left and we were 30 eliminations from making any money at all.
And then the Patriots game started. My poker concentration plummeted. But that's another story. This is the pertinent story: I am in the small blind (one of two forced bet positions.) Five people limp to me, so for a discount and a huge pot, I complete and match the Big Blind bet with T8.
The first of five community cards, the flop, are TdTh5d. I have trips, a really good hand, but a third diamond could hit at any minute and well, too bad for my trips. I am also the first to act, so I check: deferring my decision until I see what everyone else does. One guy puts out the minimum bet and everyone, except me, folds, I raise him huge. He thinks so long that I get to see the Patriots intercept Peyton Manning. Yay! I hear the old guy say "all-in." To be honest, I don't even know how many chips he has (that is a bad thing) I figure, based on how long he took that he has two diamonds and just decided to gamble.
I call and turn over my ten.
Brady is marching down the field.
I look away from the table, but my head snaps back when the table says "oooh."
He does not have a draw.
He has a hand.
QT.
My hand, much much better kicker.
Oh well.
The next two community cards are dealt. I lose.
"Does he have me covered? Am I out?"
I'm not out. But I have about a quarter of the amount of chips I started with. It's late. This is a devastating blow. Everyone at the table has me covered now...Patriots score!
Yay!
Ok, universe, I can accept busting as long as the Riots win this game.
The universe seems to think that's fair because the Colts go three and out, scoring NO points AND the Pats score AGAIN.
I make my peace with my choice and just starting shoving my chips in the middle, so I can go bust and watch the game.
Nope, everyone keeps folding to me and I get about half the chips I lost to the old man back from the rest of the table.
3 people bust by halftime.
I am 27 eliminations away from cashing. The Patriots are up by two touchdowns.
5 more bust.
Then 10.
Then another ten.
I am TWO away.
Colts score, but whatever. There's a shade over two minutes left in the game...
One more busts.
ONE more player and I cash in my first deepstack poker game EVER.
Holy crap.
AND THE PATRIOTS LEAD!
Uh oh...it's 4th and short. STILL MORE THAN 2 minutes left. 2:06. (Basically, if the Patriots can hold on to the ball unto 1:59, they can essentially kneel on the ball, run the clock and beat the Colts by six.)
Belichick and Brady have a decision to make.
They can kick the ball away (punt) to the Colts, play 2:06 minutes of defense. Or, they can try to hold on to the ball for 7 more seconds and seal the win.
I am out of my seat. A guy at a table across the room, yells:
"Don't worry sweetheart, the Patriots have won."
"SHUT UP. Don't jinx it," I yell back.
I sit back down, turn my back to the TV.
The dealer deals out the cards.
The first player to act, and aggressive player, who I haven't seen show down a hand yet, raises.
The next guy folds and then me.
I have pocket queens.
Aggressive guy has me covered. I am ONE away from cashing. I could risk it all right now and shove all my chips into the middle and let the cards fall where they may.
I turn around, Brady is back on the field. NO PUNTING!
The Patriots are going to go for it!
They need to hold the ball for SEVEN SECONDS!
6...5...4...
LEMON.
They miss.
But the play is under review...so...back to my decision...I call.
Dawn punts.
It folds to the Big Blind and he stands up and starts yelling at me because he can't see my chips.
I am now in a bad mood because I think the refs make a bad call against the Patriots and now the Colts have the stupid ball and now I have pocket queens and instead of putting it all on the line and going all-in, I just called and now everything in the universe is unfair and stupid.
"My chips are right in front of me! The FLOOR SET THEM (Cause she did after another guy complained he couldn't see them earlier), I am not even sitting in front of them because I'm watching the football game, so if you have a problem --"
He doesn't let me finish.
"---No, no...I'm sorry...you're right, you're fine...I'm just thinking...okay, I call."
I have him covered, but the raiser has us both covered.
Three of us are in this final hand right before the last person busts without any money. Number one loser.
The community cards are 7 5 2.
The Big Blind, yelly guy, checks.
Raiser bets about half my stack.
This is the problem with punting. I still don't know what to do now. I fold.
Big Blind also folds.
Colts score with 21 seconds left.
Someone else busts out.
Patriots lose, I cash.
But the Patriots went for it. My favorite headline screamed "All Guts, no Glory," across a picture of Belichick's face.
I, on the other hand, played scared. No guts, fiery shame. Money in my pocket.
So, here we go. Hey! Stop that stopping reading. I see you.
Last night I was in a deepstack tournament in Atlantic City playing for a $14,000 first place prize. I had been catching cards AND playing well. Through nine hours, I amassed a fairly large amount of chips. I was winning at least two hands an orbit and doubling my stack every hour. This is how you win tournaments. However, even after 9 hours, there were still 60 people out of 260 left and we were 30 eliminations from making any money at all.
And then the Patriots game started. My poker concentration plummeted. But that's another story. This is the pertinent story: I am in the small blind (one of two forced bet positions.) Five people limp to me, so for a discount and a huge pot, I complete and match the Big Blind bet with T8.
The first of five community cards, the flop, are TdTh5d. I have trips, a really good hand, but a third diamond could hit at any minute and well, too bad for my trips. I am also the first to act, so I check: deferring my decision until I see what everyone else does. One guy puts out the minimum bet and everyone, except me, folds, I raise him huge. He thinks so long that I get to see the Patriots intercept Peyton Manning. Yay! I hear the old guy say "all-in." To be honest, I don't even know how many chips he has (that is a bad thing) I figure, based on how long he took that he has two diamonds and just decided to gamble.
I call and turn over my ten.
Brady is marching down the field.
I look away from the table, but my head snaps back when the table says "oooh."
He does not have a draw.
He has a hand.
QT.
My hand, much much better kicker.
Oh well.
The next two community cards are dealt. I lose.
"Does he have me covered? Am I out?"
I'm not out. But I have about a quarter of the amount of chips I started with. It's late. This is a devastating blow. Everyone at the table has me covered now...Patriots score!
Yay!
Ok, universe, I can accept busting as long as the Riots win this game.
The universe seems to think that's fair because the Colts go three and out, scoring NO points AND the Pats score AGAIN.
I make my peace with my choice and just starting shoving my chips in the middle, so I can go bust and watch the game.
Nope, everyone keeps folding to me and I get about half the chips I lost to the old man back from the rest of the table.
3 people bust by halftime.
I am 27 eliminations away from cashing. The Patriots are up by two touchdowns.
5 more bust.
Then 10.
Then another ten.
I am TWO away.
Colts score, but whatever. There's a shade over two minutes left in the game...
One more busts.
ONE more player and I cash in my first deepstack poker game EVER.
Holy crap.
AND THE PATRIOTS LEAD!
Uh oh...it's 4th and short. STILL MORE THAN 2 minutes left. 2:06. (Basically, if the Patriots can hold on to the ball unto 1:59, they can essentially kneel on the ball, run the clock and beat the Colts by six.)
Belichick and Brady have a decision to make.
They can kick the ball away (punt) to the Colts, play 2:06 minutes of defense. Or, they can try to hold on to the ball for 7 more seconds and seal the win.
I am out of my seat. A guy at a table across the room, yells:
"Don't worry sweetheart, the Patriots have won."
"SHUT UP. Don't jinx it," I yell back.
I sit back down, turn my back to the TV.
The dealer deals out the cards.
The first player to act, and aggressive player, who I haven't seen show down a hand yet, raises.
The next guy folds and then me.
I have pocket queens.
Aggressive guy has me covered. I am ONE away from cashing. I could risk it all right now and shove all my chips into the middle and let the cards fall where they may.
I turn around, Brady is back on the field. NO PUNTING!
The Patriots are going to go for it!
They need to hold the ball for SEVEN SECONDS!
6...5...4...
LEMON.
They miss.
But the play is under review...so...back to my decision...I call.
Dawn punts.
It folds to the Big Blind and he stands up and starts yelling at me because he can't see my chips.
I am now in a bad mood because I think the refs make a bad call against the Patriots and now the Colts have the stupid ball and now I have pocket queens and instead of putting it all on the line and going all-in, I just called and now everything in the universe is unfair and stupid.
"My chips are right in front of me! The FLOOR SET THEM (Cause she did after another guy complained he couldn't see them earlier), I am not even sitting in front of them because I'm watching the football game, so if you have a problem --"
He doesn't let me finish.
"---No, no...I'm sorry...you're right, you're fine...I'm just thinking...okay, I call."
I have him covered, but the raiser has us both covered.
Three of us are in this final hand right before the last person busts without any money. Number one loser.
The community cards are 7 5 2.
The Big Blind, yelly guy, checks.
Raiser bets about half my stack.
This is the problem with punting. I still don't know what to do now. I fold.
Big Blind also folds.
Colts score with 21 seconds left.
Someone else busts out.
Patriots lose, I cash.
But the Patriots went for it. My favorite headline screamed "All Guts, no Glory," across a picture of Belichick's face.
I, on the other hand, played scared. No guts, fiery shame. Money in my pocket.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Not so random thought
I'm scared of the Dolphins AND the Saints. Who wants to switch schedules with the Patriots for the second half of the season?
Anybody?
Bueller? Bueller?
Anybody?
Bueller? Bueller?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
So...
I've just about had it with "undefeated football teams."
Colts, Saints, Broncos, Vikings must eat it this week.
That is all.
Colts, Saints, Broncos, Vikings must eat it this week.
That is all.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Brady Swagger
I don't know where to begin with the awesomeness that was today in football. Well, how about at the beginning.
I was at work all day Saturday. However, the internal servers were down, so we spent all day having chair races and talking football. In the most bizarre development, in an New York office of 15 people, there were 7 BILLS fans and 7 PATRIOTS fans!!! One girl didn't know anything about football. We then spent an hour trying to teach her. The guy was like "You get four tries to go ten yards. If you can't do that, the other team gets the ball." She then asked "what if you go more than ten yards, do you get more tries to go the next ten yards."
That. Would. Be. Awesome.
Anyway, I had to be at work for ten am, this is three hours later than I usually go in, so of course, I overslept because I figured I'd have no trouble waking up. I make terrible decisions. Anyway, I get up at 9:00, jump in the shower, decide that driving would be my best chance of getting in on time, and head down to the garage in my building. As I'm going down to the basement, I see a mom and her like year and a half year old son climbing up the stairs. The kid is wearing the ADORABLEST TOM BRADY JERSEY ever made! Life! I too am wearing a Tom Brady jersey! (Even though I was worried that people would think I was just sucking up to my boss, who is also a Pats fan, but fuck 'em, I wear Pats jerseys every Sunday! Even when I'm watching from my couch at home.)
So, the mom and I are chatting as they amble up the stairs and when they finally reach the top, I say "Go Pats!" And the kid says something which was clearly "yes, I too would like the Pats to go!"
Sooo cute!!
Alas, I was working until 6, so I would miss the Pats kickoff.
I was checking the internets on my phone, so I mostly relied on twitterfeeds for the 1 pm games. The guy next to me was pissed because Big Ben was having a good game against the Browns, but he had benched him in favor of Tom Brady.
"I can't believe this. Ben already has 20 fantasy points! Every week, I have to decide and I get screwed every week."
I glared at him.
Shut the hell up.
I have the Steelers D on my fantasy team and they have screwed me EVERY week! Including today! How do the Browns score 14 points on them?? HOW?
For the Patriots game, I switched over to Espn gamecast. If things went badly I didn't want to read jerkface tweetage. And if things went well...
Brady was sacked early on. I was not happy. Alceste had told me that the Titans D was garbage and that the game would be a blowout. So, for this garbage D to sack my Tommy...well, I thought it was going to be a looooong day.
Not so!
Every time I checked my phone, Patriots had the ball!
And every time the Patriots had the ball....TOUCHDOWN!
I turned to the guy next to me, who had been regretting his decision to play Brady...
"Brady just got a touchdown."
"Make that two."
"Another Brady touchdown."
"I mean four!"
"And...that'll be five."
It was soo awesome!
I couldn't let my boss know I was gamecast watching until I was done, but then I turned to office door and said "Pats looking good!"
He replied "It was 24 nothing last I checked."
"Oh, it's like 38 nothing now...I mean 45 nothing!"
HAHHAAHAHAHAHA
Brady swagger, bitches.
I got out and decided to go to the ESPN zone in Times Square.
Can you believe I couldn't find a bar with DirectTV anywhere closer?
ESPN zone had a sign up saying it would be ten dollars per hour because of the "huge interest in today's games."
Not bloody likely.
I did an end run around the hostess and took a seat near the bar.
I felt a little douchey showing up for the second half of a blowout wearing a Tom Brady jersey, so I kept my jacket zipped up and watched silently.
When Belichick pulled Brady after the sixth Touchdown, this dude in a Giants jersey starts talking shit about Brady and Belichick.
"Hey, nice game you guys had today," I said from my corner hiding place.
"OOOHHHH," the dudes in the Jets jerseys said.
Giants guy went back to drinking his beer.
Thaaat's right.
The whole bar couldn't believe what was happening to the Titans.
"This is like a college game score."
"College game, nothing. This is like a Madden videogame score."
I chuckled quietly.
And THEN...Buffalo TOUCHDOWN!
"Yes!!!"
I jumped out of my chair as the Bills tied up the game against the Jets.
Now the Jets fans stared at me.
"You a Bills fan, girl?"
Uhhh...
"No."
I unzipped my jacket, revealing the mighty mighty 12!
"This girl is Patriots fan! Look at her wearing a Brady jersey up in here."
Giants fan guy turns around, "well, at least she has the good sense to cover that shit up."
"Hey, I was just being humble, seeing as my guys are whipping the hell out of the Titans right now...even worse than the Saints beat you guys."
"Beat y'all in the Superbowl."
"Even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while."
Jets guy jumps in:
"We beat y'all two in a row! Last year at Foxboro and then here at home."
"Yeah, and then you went on to win the division and go to the playoffs, right?"
It was pretty light hearted and we were laughing back and forth. Everyone was happy to see Philly lose. But then Sanchez threw his third...fourth...interception and now the Bills were one field goal kick away from upsetting the Jets!
They were quiet, I was jubilant!
Then the Bills kick was...what's the name of this blog again?
Oh. Yeah.
OT. AND The Jets won the flip.
Booo.
But no! The Bills hold 'em and the fake kick is intercepted!! Bills ball!
(The bar was PISSED, by the way. They thought Feely would have made the kick!)
Anyway, as OT marched along, a Bills fan sauntered over and he immediately starts to boo me.
"Hey, I'm rooting for you guys, buddy."
"Oh yeah?"
"Hell yes!"
He gives me a high five. We weather the ups and downs together until the Bills were intercepted with 6 minutes to. Lemon.
The announcers started to talk "tie."
Eh, I'll take a tie!
Buffalo guy was not happy about that at all.
"Come on! We're gonna win!"
Meh.
Bills win, Bills tie...Patriots still in first.
But HUZZAH! Lindell's kick is good!
Everybody's happy!!!
Except the Jets.
WOOOO.
GO RIOTS!!! Let us never speak of Denver again.
Brady Swagger.
Respect.
I was at work all day Saturday. However, the internal servers were down, so we spent all day having chair races and talking football. In the most bizarre development, in an New York office of 15 people, there were 7 BILLS fans and 7 PATRIOTS fans!!! One girl didn't know anything about football. We then spent an hour trying to teach her. The guy was like "You get four tries to go ten yards. If you can't do that, the other team gets the ball." She then asked "what if you go more than ten yards, do you get more tries to go the next ten yards."
That. Would. Be. Awesome.
Anyway, I had to be at work for ten am, this is three hours later than I usually go in, so of course, I overslept because I figured I'd have no trouble waking up. I make terrible decisions. Anyway, I get up at 9:00, jump in the shower, decide that driving would be my best chance of getting in on time, and head down to the garage in my building. As I'm going down to the basement, I see a mom and her like year and a half year old son climbing up the stairs. The kid is wearing the ADORABLEST TOM BRADY JERSEY ever made! Life! I too am wearing a Tom Brady jersey! (Even though I was worried that people would think I was just sucking up to my boss, who is also a Pats fan, but fuck 'em, I wear Pats jerseys every Sunday! Even when I'm watching from my couch at home.)
So, the mom and I are chatting as they amble up the stairs and when they finally reach the top, I say "Go Pats!" And the kid says something which was clearly "yes, I too would like the Pats to go!"
Sooo cute!!
Alas, I was working until 6, so I would miss the Pats kickoff.
I was checking the internets on my phone, so I mostly relied on twitterfeeds for the 1 pm games. The guy next to me was pissed because Big Ben was having a good game against the Browns, but he had benched him in favor of Tom Brady.
"I can't believe this. Ben already has 20 fantasy points! Every week, I have to decide and I get screwed every week."
I glared at him.
Shut the hell up.
I have the Steelers D on my fantasy team and they have screwed me EVERY week! Including today! How do the Browns score 14 points on them?? HOW?
For the Patriots game, I switched over to Espn gamecast. If things went badly I didn't want to read jerkface tweetage. And if things went well...
Brady was sacked early on. I was not happy. Alceste had told me that the Titans D was garbage and that the game would be a blowout. So, for this garbage D to sack my Tommy...well, I thought it was going to be a looooong day.
Not so!
Every time I checked my phone, Patriots had the ball!
And every time the Patriots had the ball....TOUCHDOWN!
I turned to the guy next to me, who had been regretting his decision to play Brady...
"Brady just got a touchdown."
"Make that two."
"Another Brady touchdown."
"I mean four!"
"And...that'll be five."
It was soo awesome!
I couldn't let my boss know I was gamecast watching until I was done, but then I turned to office door and said "Pats looking good!"
He replied "It was 24 nothing last I checked."
"Oh, it's like 38 nothing now...I mean 45 nothing!"
HAHHAAHAHAHAHA
Brady swagger, bitches.
I got out and decided to go to the ESPN zone in Times Square.
Can you believe I couldn't find a bar with DirectTV anywhere closer?
ESPN zone had a sign up saying it would be ten dollars per hour because of the "huge interest in today's games."
Not bloody likely.
I did an end run around the hostess and took a seat near the bar.
I felt a little douchey showing up for the second half of a blowout wearing a Tom Brady jersey, so I kept my jacket zipped up and watched silently.
When Belichick pulled Brady after the sixth Touchdown, this dude in a Giants jersey starts talking shit about Brady and Belichick.
"Hey, nice game you guys had today," I said from my corner hiding place.
"OOOHHHH," the dudes in the Jets jerseys said.
Giants guy went back to drinking his beer.
Thaaat's right.
The whole bar couldn't believe what was happening to the Titans.
"This is like a college game score."
"College game, nothing. This is like a Madden videogame score."
I chuckled quietly.
And THEN...Buffalo TOUCHDOWN!
"Yes!!!"
I jumped out of my chair as the Bills tied up the game against the Jets.
Now the Jets fans stared at me.
"You a Bills fan, girl?"
Uhhh...
"No."
I unzipped my jacket, revealing the mighty mighty 12!
"This girl is Patriots fan! Look at her wearing a Brady jersey up in here."
Giants fan guy turns around, "well, at least she has the good sense to cover that shit up."
"Hey, I was just being humble, seeing as my guys are whipping the hell out of the Titans right now...even worse than the Saints beat you guys."
"Beat y'all in the Superbowl."
"Even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while."
Jets guy jumps in:
"We beat y'all two in a row! Last year at Foxboro and then here at home."
"Yeah, and then you went on to win the division and go to the playoffs, right?"
It was pretty light hearted and we were laughing back and forth. Everyone was happy to see Philly lose. But then Sanchez threw his third...fourth...interception and now the Bills were one field goal kick away from upsetting the Jets!
They were quiet, I was jubilant!
Then the Bills kick was...what's the name of this blog again?
Oh. Yeah.
OT. AND The Jets won the flip.
Booo.
But no! The Bills hold 'em and the fake kick is intercepted!! Bills ball!
(The bar was PISSED, by the way. They thought Feely would have made the kick!)
Anyway, as OT marched along, a Bills fan sauntered over and he immediately starts to boo me.
"Hey, I'm rooting for you guys, buddy."
"Oh yeah?"
"Hell yes!"
He gives me a high five. We weather the ups and downs together until the Bills were intercepted with 6 minutes to. Lemon.
The announcers started to talk "tie."
Eh, I'll take a tie!
Buffalo guy was not happy about that at all.
"Come on! We're gonna win!"
Meh.
Bills win, Bills tie...Patriots still in first.
But HUZZAH! Lindell's kick is good!
Everybody's happy!!!
Except the Jets.
WOOOO.
GO RIOTS!!! Let us never speak of Denver again.
Brady Swagger.
Respect.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Tha Jets LOSE...
THHAAAA JETS LOOOOSSEEEEE. Hahahahhahaha. Okay, I was so bummed on Sunday because I thought the Riots were out of it, the Jets would pull ahead, plus they already have the tiebreaker shenanigans going for it...bleak Dawn in Summersville let me tell ya.
Ok, but we're right back in the hunt. You were granted a gift tonight Tom Brady, A MOTHER FLONKING GIFT. Please please don't return it sender. And I'm going to try to pretend I'm not worried about how good the Dolphins looked last night.
Gulp.
Good thing I did not put money where my trash talking "my one team will rack up more wins than your two teams" mouth. Oh and um, Braylon Edwards is pretty good.
Hahahahahhaa
Oh, that game was sweet.
Ok, but we're right back in the hunt. You were granted a gift tonight Tom Brady, A MOTHER FLONKING GIFT. Please please don't return it sender. And I'm going to try to pretend I'm not worried about how good the Dolphins looked last night.
Gulp.
Good thing I did not put money where my trash talking "my one team will rack up more wins than your two teams" mouth. Oh and um, Braylon Edwards is pretty good.
Hahahahahhaa
Oh, that game was sweet.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Ugly, ugly, ugly
Whenever Gostkowski shanks one, I crawl into a deep, deep funk of misery and despair. Um...insert some words about Tom Brady missing some big plays in clutch moments and lots of swear words for me. I'm going to bed.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
WOW
Okay, I guess I didn't even do a write up of last week's game. Patriots won, of course, but oh man, were the receivers KILLING ME. (I have Gostkowski on fantasy though, so I wasn't too upset that once again most of New England's point were coming off his sweet, sweet foot.) However, THIS WEEK!!! OH BABY!!! MY BOYS ARE BACK.
Brady to Moss! Brady to Welker! Brady to Morris! WATSON with a huge grab. TOM BRADY.
DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!
It's funny, I didn't realize that the Ravens were as good as they were (or that they were coming into Foxboro undefeated). I was very nonchalant about the game, didn't even get it up and running until second quarter. My guys were comfortably ahead and then...horribleness! Stupid mean guy beats Matt Light, forces a Brady fumble AND then stupid ugly bad guys get a touchdown to pull within 3. (THE VERY WORST PART?? The announcers had JUST finished saying how New England hadn't fumbled a ball in 27 games. Some kind of longest streak, blah blah blah. I wanted to gouge their eyes out.) But the very next drive, Brady was Brady again. Wow.
OH AND DID YOU SEE THE FAKED FIELD GOAL!! Gostkowski completed a pass AND got the first down!!
And then even with the penalty, NAILED the retry field goal!!!
I love this team!
I watched the end of the Dallas-Broncos game and I'm feeling okay about next week, even though Denver is undefeated.
The Jets' lost in SPECTACULAR fashion this afternoon, so New England is now tied for first. Hopefully, Sanchez has lost some of his swagger and hopefully, Miami got enough of a confidence boost from shellacking the Bills today, that next week will see Miami topple the Jets...what? it's possible.
My guys are 3-1 and in firstish place, so today's song of the day goes out to them:
No matter how many battles I been in and won/No matter how magazines on my nuts/no matter how many emcees I eat up/oh oh IT'S NEVER ENOUGH.
WE'RE COMING! THEY'RE GOING!!!!!! LET'S DO THIS.
Brady to Moss! Brady to Welker! Brady to Morris! WATSON with a huge grab. TOM BRADY.
DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!
It's funny, I didn't realize that the Ravens were as good as they were (or that they were coming into Foxboro undefeated). I was very nonchalant about the game, didn't even get it up and running until second quarter. My guys were comfortably ahead and then...horribleness! Stupid mean guy beats Matt Light, forces a Brady fumble AND then stupid ugly bad guys get a touchdown to pull within 3. (THE VERY WORST PART?? The announcers had JUST finished saying how New England hadn't fumbled a ball in 27 games. Some kind of longest streak, blah blah blah. I wanted to gouge their eyes out.) But the very next drive, Brady was Brady again. Wow.
OH AND DID YOU SEE THE FAKED FIELD GOAL!! Gostkowski completed a pass AND got the first down!!
And then even with the penalty, NAILED the retry field goal!!!
I love this team!
I watched the end of the Dallas-Broncos game and I'm feeling okay about next week, even though Denver is undefeated.
The Jets' lost in SPECTACULAR fashion this afternoon, so New England is now tied for first. Hopefully, Sanchez has lost some of his swagger and hopefully, Miami got enough of a confidence boost from shellacking the Bills today, that next week will see Miami topple the Jets...what? it's possible.
My guys are 3-1 and in firstish place, so today's song of the day goes out to them:
No matter how many battles I been in and won/No matter how magazines on my nuts/no matter how many emcees I eat up/oh oh IT'S NEVER ENOUGH.
WE'RE COMING! THEY'RE GOING!!!!!! LET'S DO THIS.
Gannon sucks as much as McNabb
Gannon didn't like the timeout because he thought that if Graham hit the field goal it would leave too much time for dangerous Cleveland return man Joshua Cribbs(notes) to take back the subsequent kickoff for a touchdown. You know, that dreaded post-score overtime kickoff that has felled so many teams throughout history.
Gannon's partner in the booth, Ian Eagle, quickly and politely informed Gannon that the game would be over if Graham successfully converted the field goal since NFL overtime is sudden death. Gannon laughed and apologized for his mistake. Awesomely, Eagle then asked if McNabb had infiltrated the broadcast booth. Nah, Ian, if that were true, Gannon would have vomited when the game got down to crunch time. (Rimshot!)
Buuurn.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
In Belichick, I trus...fear
Fisch emailed me a Bill Simmons column about the last Jets game of last season where Simmons perfectly captured how pissed I was about having to feel the grossness of rooting for the Jets, only to have them fail. Fuck you Fahvrah, fuck you very much. Every since, I've been a huge Bill Simmons fan. I love his writing, I love his love of the Patriots, I...um...skip all his Red Sox/Celtics columns, but big Bill Simmons hugs from me. And then I read this column.
As for himself he says: As a realist and a Kool-Aid drinker, for the life of me, I cannot decide between Camp No. 1 and Camp No. 2.
Me too! Except not really, I actually think Bill Belichick might be the dark lord himself. Like, um, THE dark lord, THE. He just does everything right, all the time! How he got caught in the silly, little videoing nonsense, I'll never know. Except, it had to be in his plan somehow...
So, when Brady tore his ACL and Cassel, who hadn't started a game since high school moved to the helm, I wasn't worried. I wasn't! I remember telling Alceste, after the loss to the Dolphins, that I was sure Belichick would do whatever he needed to...er...motivate young Cassel to step up...including, but not limited to kidnapping the kid's mother until the losing stopped.
And so it is now, Belichick will find a way. First, when Kevin O'connell's body is found, I know Bill WILL have an alibi. Just sayin'. Second, um...Giselle needs to watch her stupid Nazi back...next interception Tom throws....again, just sayin'. Belichick don't play.
So, Atlanta tomorrow...
Our defense sucks, our offense is injured, Brady is dead and well, the Falcons don't exactly suck...Not.A.Good.Combo.
But fingers crosses, Pats jersey on back, in Belichick I...fear.
Let's GO RIOTS!
Everyone in the Kool-Aid Camp believes in certain axioms that may no longer be true -- stuff like "never bet against the Patriots after a loss" and "when in doubt, Belichick will come through." They trust the foundation: eight straight winning seasons, three Super Bowl titles and the best eight-year overall record of any team in 20 years. The foundation will prevail. Always.
(Important note: My father is a charter member of this group. In fact, when I told him that I planned to write this column, he hissed things like, "it's too early," "we'll be fine," "you give up on our teams too easily," "this reminds me of when you quit on the Celtics two springs ago" and "you're an a**hole and I wish we weren't related." All solid points.)
For the second camp, it's more complicated. You wouldn't call them naysayers, just realists. And here's the reality: Today's NFL isn't built for teams to succeed year after year indefinitely. Extending the Malibu analogy, a good foundation only lasts so long. You still need to take care of your house. Need to wash the salt off your deck every day, update the furniture, keep a fresh coat of paint on there, check that foundation every few months to make sure it's fine. You cannot slip. You cannot fall behind. You cannot take anything for granted. Or else your house will start to look like crap.
As for himself he says: As a realist and a Kool-Aid drinker, for the life of me, I cannot decide between Camp No. 1 and Camp No. 2.
Me too! Except not really, I actually think Bill Belichick might be the dark lord himself. Like, um, THE dark lord, THE. He just does everything right, all the time! How he got caught in the silly, little videoing nonsense, I'll never know. Except, it had to be in his plan somehow...
So, when Brady tore his ACL and Cassel, who hadn't started a game since high school moved to the helm, I wasn't worried. I wasn't! I remember telling Alceste, after the loss to the Dolphins, that I was sure Belichick would do whatever he needed to...er...motivate young Cassel to step up...including, but not limited to kidnapping the kid's mother until the losing stopped.
And so it is now, Belichick will find a way. First, when Kevin O'connell's body is found, I know Bill WILL have an alibi. Just sayin'. Second, um...Giselle needs to watch her stupid Nazi back...next interception Tom throws....again, just sayin'. Belichick don't play.
So, Atlanta tomorrow...
Our defense sucks, our offense is injured, Brady is dead and well, the Falcons don't exactly suck...Not.A.Good.Combo.
But fingers crosses, Pats jersey on back, in Belichick I...fear.
Let's GO RIOTS!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Quote of the Day
Hey CK, our teams may be 1-1 and key members of our team may be injured (Mayo, Welker) but at least we aren't fans of two football teams that are BOTH 0-2! When I point this out to Fisch, he texts back:
"I hate you. Don't text me."
And is thusly, quote of the day and saddest football fan ever.
"I hate you. Don't text me."
And is thusly, quote of the day and saddest football fan ever.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
1-1
I almost called this post, Tom Brady is dead. (I still might. Lot of post to be written. Stay tuned. -ed.)
My friend Matt called me up last week to ask if I wanted to go with him to the Patriots game. Matt is a Jets fan and my boys would be playing Gang Green at Giants stadium. I thought about it for all of, oh, two and a half seconds, and said yes.
I went to my very first NFL game last year at Gilette and I loved it! The crowds, the field, the players. Everything. Oh, and that Cassel put up a big fat W against the Rams didn't hurt either.
But an away game.
Ruh roh.
I would be bringing it New England style, trust that. And I was willing to get beat, doused with beer, whatevs: I am Sparta...er...Dawn.
I set my alarm. Got dolled up in my Pats sweatshirt with my Brady jersey on top. I grabbed my car keys (complete with Patriots' keychain) and headed out the door. As I walked to the elevator, I decided it wouldn't be prudent to park my car whilst wearing my Brady jersey at Giants stadium. I'd put it on after I walked a safe distance from my brand new Beamer. The son should not suffer for the sins of his mother.
As I took off my jersey, a voice from behind stopped me.
"Hey! You can't do that! Brady needs us today."
A strapping man in a Ladder 35 T-shirt was carrying stereo equipment and walking behind me toward the elevator.
"Hah. I still have on my sweatshirt. I'll put the jersey back on when I get to the game, don't worry."
"Oh, you're going? Good! They're gonna need you today."
"But we're going to win right...I can't be in the middle of a Giants stadium full of happy Jets fans."
He grimaced.
"I dunno...it's gonna be close. But it's Brady, right? You see the game Monday?"
"Hell yes!"
We high fived. The elevator reached the basement. We exchanged names and parted at his jeep.
"See ya."
"Good luck today!"
I had to drive out to Williamsburg to pick up Matt and his BFF Brian.
"How come you're not wearing a Patriots jersey?" Matt asked, getting in.
"Oh, it's in the trunk. I don't want any harm to come to my car."
He laughed.
Brian and Matt are hilarious. Matt, an unrepentant total hippie who bicycle rides everywhere and hates the man and capitalism, takes great pleasure in mocking me for driving a BMW named after the founder of Yale University. "How do you relate to normal people?"
"Are you normal?"
"No," Brian yelled from the backseat.
Brian then informed me that he and Matt are in a bicycle gang -- not motorcycle -- bicycle. You can tell this by the intimidating tats they have on their feet.
Brian then cracked me up doing impressions of the traders at his company who are all "bros" most likely to do time for date rape.
"That's just how they roll."
We couldn't find an address for the stadium, so I just inputted the city and hoped for the best.
This was the best: getting to East Rutherford and seeing signs that said "To Giants Stadium," after following these signs we started to see signs that said "Permit Holders" and they pointed toward the stadium; the other signs that said "Nonpermit holders" pointed somewhere in the vicinity of Hoboken.
"You can't park on our property without a permit," a burly man told me as I inched too close to the "Permit Holders" lanes.
Racist.
Lincoln freed the slaves, buddy. I can be on your property all I want!
Jerkface.
We followed the signs to Hoboken and came upon a lot that said "nonpermit parking. Ten bucks. At your own risk." There was a bit of a line and we waited in it. But as we sat there the scene looked sketchier and sketchier. The driver in the BMW in front of us must have been thinking the same thing because he pulled out of the line and headed back to the highway.
"Uh...should I follow him," I asked.
"It's your Beamer," Matt answered.
True dat.
I peeled off behind my fellow Beamer guy.
I followed him to a hotel lot about two miles away.
Here parking was $25, but they provided a shuttle bus back to Giants Stadium in East Rutherford.
How bullshit is all this?
I parked Prince Eli (the aforementioned BMW named after Elihu Yale) and put on my Brady jersey. I locked all my valuables in the trunk and set the car alarm. I was ready!
"Um...Dawn?"
I looked up.
"Yeah?"
Brian pointed to my wide open driver's side door.
D'oh.
He slammed it shut, I reset the alarm and this time I was really ready!
Giddy up!
We took the shuttle bus to the stadium.
The bus was filled with Brady jerseys.
"I'm surrounded," Matt groaned.
We got off and started walking past the tailgaters.
Oh, My Christian ears.
The slurs and insults being hurled in the direction of my Brady jersey are virtually unrepeatable.
Except apparently Tom Brady is a homosexual and the Patriots suck.
I kept my head down.
"You guys are my muscle, right?"
Matt started whistling and looking off in other directions.
"Actually, I'm the one most likely to start hurling insults at you when we get inside," Brian added, "But if anybody else tries to get involved I will end them. I'll be all 'Tom Brady can suck my cock,' and some guy will jump in and be all "yeah, Tom Brady sucks," and I'll be all "shut the fuck up. Was I talking to you? Was anybody talking to you? You watch your mouth in front of her," and then I'll deck 'em.
I was laughing my head off.
Oh yes. This was when I was having a good day.
Giants stadium, by the way, SUX. With an x. That's right. The bathrooms are gross throwbacks to my days as a Brooklyn public school kid in the 1970s. (Um...I mean I wasn't born in the 70s.) The seats are crap and dude everything says "Giants Stadium" everywhere. I took shit from my facebook friends for saying this, but how do you stand that...like with your face showing?
I'm a fan of New York's underdog baseball team, the Mets. If Citifield said "Yankees Stadium" all over it, I'd spit. And vomit.
OK. Anyway.
We had beautiful seats, on the endzone...which kinda made it hard to see the endzone. Hmm...hey, Tom? Was that your excuse too?
Ugh.
I was surrounded by Green.
One guy was wearing the Green Hulk hands that they made for that movie a couple of years ago. Was that cross promoted at Giants stadium?? Cause if it wasn't...dude, missed opportunity! They are perfect for Jets fans.
Some American Idol fucknut sang the National Anthem. He was doing all this stupid harmonizing shit to it, like The Star Spangled Banner needs his flash in the pan assistance to be great. Hey, Constantine. I don't. Sit your ass down. Love, The Star Spangled Banner.
The game started and the Patriots looked bad.
Four and out. I was queasy.
We drew first blood, but it was just a field goal.
I had the same feeling I had while watching The Superbowl that was Canceled two years ago. We were ahead on the scoreboard, but we were losing.
So many missed opportunities. No one could get open. Brady couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. The officials were definitely calling the game favorably, but we weren't doing our parts.
The Jets fans were making fun of me. One guy made me laugh when he saw me tweeting: "texting your friends about how cute Tom Brady is, sweetheart? OMG LOL?"
I wanted to join in when they started chanting "Boston sucks" "Boston sucks"
"Boston sucks".
What? I'm a Brooklyn girl AND A YALIE! BOSTON SUCKS, WHAT UP?
But I understood that in this context they were saying the Riots suck. AND THEY DO NOT.
Er...well, they did...but that's for me to say and you to find out.
Or something.
Second half whatever was protecting the Patriots from defeat vanished. The talisman was broken and the Jets were scoring all over our faces.
I started to dread seeing Tom on the field. Failure after failure after failure. I started screaming for them to just "go for the field goal," as soon as they got possession. In Gostkowski I trust.
Oh, mighty vomiticus, please take away my sorrow.
I gave up on the game in the 3rd quarter. About three quarters after Tom Brady, so I should be commended.
Giants stadium was fit to be tied.
They ran out the clock, taking knees like good boys and that was that.
Tom Brady's first regular season loss in...a long dang time.
A well earned loss, I'll add.
The Jets fans were gracious.
"We told you Tom Brady sucked."
"Have a nice drive back to New England, wherever that is."
"Nanana hey hey hey goodbye."
"Brady ain't shit."
I hid behind Matt.
"Aw, you're safe. They'd only hurt you if we lost."
"Yeah, it would be a little douchey to win AND beat me up."
A Pats fan -- a DRUNK Pats fan -- grabbed me into a hug from behind.
"Don't worry, honey. It's just one game. The season is long," his breath reeked of beer and his Boston accent was thick.
"Um...thanks." Stop touching me.
The boys were also very sweet.
"Hey, it's ok...maybe you guys will beat the Bengals or something...oh...right."
FUCKERS.
Preseason. That doesn't count...I...um...
Hate everybody.
Tom Brady is dead.
To me.
My friend Matt called me up last week to ask if I wanted to go with him to the Patriots game. Matt is a Jets fan and my boys would be playing Gang Green at Giants stadium. I thought about it for all of, oh, two and a half seconds, and said yes.
I went to my very first NFL game last year at Gilette and I loved it! The crowds, the field, the players. Everything. Oh, and that Cassel put up a big fat W against the Rams didn't hurt either.
But an away game.
Ruh roh.
I would be bringing it New England style, trust that. And I was willing to get beat, doused with beer, whatevs: I am Sparta...er...Dawn.
I set my alarm. Got dolled up in my Pats sweatshirt with my Brady jersey on top. I grabbed my car keys (complete with Patriots' keychain) and headed out the door. As I walked to the elevator, I decided it wouldn't be prudent to park my car whilst wearing my Brady jersey at Giants stadium. I'd put it on after I walked a safe distance from my brand new Beamer. The son should not suffer for the sins of his mother.
As I took off my jersey, a voice from behind stopped me.
"Hey! You can't do that! Brady needs us today."
A strapping man in a Ladder 35 T-shirt was carrying stereo equipment and walking behind me toward the elevator.
"Hah. I still have on my sweatshirt. I'll put the jersey back on when I get to the game, don't worry."
"Oh, you're going? Good! They're gonna need you today."
"But we're going to win right...I can't be in the middle of a Giants stadium full of happy Jets fans."
He grimaced.
"I dunno...it's gonna be close. But it's Brady, right? You see the game Monday?"
"Hell yes!"
We high fived. The elevator reached the basement. We exchanged names and parted at his jeep.
"See ya."
"Good luck today!"
I had to drive out to Williamsburg to pick up Matt and his BFF Brian.
"How come you're not wearing a Patriots jersey?" Matt asked, getting in.
"Oh, it's in the trunk. I don't want any harm to come to my car."
He laughed.
Brian and Matt are hilarious. Matt, an unrepentant total hippie who bicycle rides everywhere and hates the man and capitalism, takes great pleasure in mocking me for driving a BMW named after the founder of Yale University. "How do you relate to normal people?"
"Are you normal?"
"No," Brian yelled from the backseat.
Brian then informed me that he and Matt are in a bicycle gang -- not motorcycle -- bicycle. You can tell this by the intimidating tats they have on their feet.
Brian then cracked me up doing impressions of the traders at his company who are all "bros" most likely to do time for date rape.
"That's just how they roll."
We couldn't find an address for the stadium, so I just inputted the city and hoped for the best.
This was the best: getting to East Rutherford and seeing signs that said "To Giants Stadium," after following these signs we started to see signs that said "Permit Holders" and they pointed toward the stadium; the other signs that said "Nonpermit holders" pointed somewhere in the vicinity of Hoboken.
"You can't park on our property without a permit," a burly man told me as I inched too close to the "Permit Holders" lanes.
Racist.
Lincoln freed the slaves, buddy. I can be on your property all I want!
Jerkface.
We followed the signs to Hoboken and came upon a lot that said "nonpermit parking. Ten bucks. At your own risk." There was a bit of a line and we waited in it. But as we sat there the scene looked sketchier and sketchier. The driver in the BMW in front of us must have been thinking the same thing because he pulled out of the line and headed back to the highway.
"Uh...should I follow him," I asked.
"It's your Beamer," Matt answered.
True dat.
I peeled off behind my fellow Beamer guy.
I followed him to a hotel lot about two miles away.
Here parking was $25, but they provided a shuttle bus back to Giants Stadium in East Rutherford.
How bullshit is all this?
I parked Prince Eli (the aforementioned BMW named after Elihu Yale) and put on my Brady jersey. I locked all my valuables in the trunk and set the car alarm. I was ready!
"Um...Dawn?"
I looked up.
"Yeah?"
Brian pointed to my wide open driver's side door.
D'oh.
He slammed it shut, I reset the alarm and this time I was really ready!
Giddy up!
We took the shuttle bus to the stadium.
The bus was filled with Brady jerseys.
"I'm surrounded," Matt groaned.
We got off and started walking past the tailgaters.
Oh, My Christian ears.
The slurs and insults being hurled in the direction of my Brady jersey are virtually unrepeatable.
Except apparently Tom Brady is a homosexual and the Patriots suck.
I kept my head down.
"You guys are my muscle, right?"
Matt started whistling and looking off in other directions.
"Actually, I'm the one most likely to start hurling insults at you when we get inside," Brian added, "But if anybody else tries to get involved I will end them. I'll be all 'Tom Brady can suck my cock,' and some guy will jump in and be all "yeah, Tom Brady sucks," and I'll be all "shut the fuck up. Was I talking to you? Was anybody talking to you? You watch your mouth in front of her," and then I'll deck 'em.
I was laughing my head off.
Oh yes. This was when I was having a good day.
Giants stadium, by the way, SUX. With an x. That's right. The bathrooms are gross throwbacks to my days as a Brooklyn public school kid in the 1970s. (Um...I mean I wasn't born in the 70s.) The seats are crap and dude everything says "Giants Stadium" everywhere. I took shit from my facebook friends for saying this, but how do you stand that...like with your face showing?
I'm a fan of New York's underdog baseball team, the Mets. If Citifield said "Yankees Stadium" all over it, I'd spit. And vomit.
OK. Anyway.
We had beautiful seats, on the endzone...which kinda made it hard to see the endzone. Hmm...hey, Tom? Was that your excuse too?
Ugh.
I was surrounded by Green.
One guy was wearing the Green Hulk hands that they made for that movie a couple of years ago. Was that cross promoted at Giants stadium?? Cause if it wasn't...dude, missed opportunity! They are perfect for Jets fans.
Some American Idol fucknut sang the National Anthem. He was doing all this stupid harmonizing shit to it, like The Star Spangled Banner needs his flash in the pan assistance to be great. Hey, Constantine. I don't. Sit your ass down. Love, The Star Spangled Banner.
The game started and the Patriots looked bad.
Four and out. I was queasy.
We drew first blood, but it was just a field goal.
I had the same feeling I had while watching The Superbowl that was Canceled two years ago. We were ahead on the scoreboard, but we were losing.
So many missed opportunities. No one could get open. Brady couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. The officials were definitely calling the game favorably, but we weren't doing our parts.
The Jets fans were making fun of me. One guy made me laugh when he saw me tweeting: "texting your friends about how cute Tom Brady is, sweetheart? OMG LOL?"
I wanted to join in when they started chanting "Boston sucks" "Boston sucks"
"Boston sucks".
What? I'm a Brooklyn girl AND A YALIE! BOSTON SUCKS, WHAT UP?
But I understood that in this context they were saying the Riots suck. AND THEY DO NOT.
Er...well, they did...but that's for me to say and you to find out.
Or something.
Second half whatever was protecting the Patriots from defeat vanished. The talisman was broken and the Jets were scoring all over our faces.
I started to dread seeing Tom on the field. Failure after failure after failure. I started screaming for them to just "go for the field goal," as soon as they got possession. In Gostkowski I trust.
Oh, mighty vomiticus, please take away my sorrow.
I gave up on the game in the 3rd quarter. About three quarters after Tom Brady, so I should be commended.
Giants stadium was fit to be tied.
They ran out the clock, taking knees like good boys and that was that.
Tom Brady's first regular season loss in...a long dang time.
A well earned loss, I'll add.
The Jets fans were gracious.
"We told you Tom Brady sucked."
"Have a nice drive back to New England, wherever that is."
"Nanana hey hey hey goodbye."
"Brady ain't shit."
I hid behind Matt.
"Aw, you're safe. They'd only hurt you if we lost."
"Yeah, it would be a little douchey to win AND beat me up."
A Pats fan -- a DRUNK Pats fan -- grabbed me into a hug from behind.
"Don't worry, honey. It's just one game. The season is long," his breath reeked of beer and his Boston accent was thick.
"Um...thanks." Stop touching me.
The boys were also very sweet.
"Hey, it's ok...maybe you guys will beat the Bengals or something...oh...right."
FUCKERS.
Preseason. That doesn't count...I...um...
Hate everybody.
Tom Brady is dead.
To me.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
That's won
"Damn girl, you got money on the game?"
I was screaming my head off in an almost empty poker room at Bally's when Tom Brady drilled his second TD pass to Ben Watson in under three minutes.
"Nah, I'm just a fan."
Ha! I was decked out in my personalized Pats jersey, which I was wearing over my Patriots T-shirt. When it's game day, I bring it New England style!
Unfortunately, business meant that I would be on the road to the office, instead of on my couch or at a bar by kickoff. Alceste told me I could probably find the game on AM radio. Sure enough, as soon as I flipped the dial to AM the announcers were calling the game. My heart stopped when they said "Brady looks hurt." Fuck! Then they said something about Kansas City and Mary pointed out that it was only 7:02 -not time enough for anything to really have happened yet. Sure enough, it was just a replay of last year's season opener. No need to wrap my car around a tree.
That would come later.
When the Riots couldn't get a first down in Buffalo terrority. When Gostkowski missed the field goal. When Buffalo scored first! Ugh. Alack! Wail!
It was dark on the Garden State and the orange glow of the display on the radio console was giving the night an eery feeling.
"I wish I hadn't found this stupid radio station," I complained bitterly.
"Listening to football games in the car reminds me of when I was a kid and my dad would put them on in the car on Sundays," Mary said.
Oh, so happy for you and your having a dad as a child having ways! Do you not hear the Patriots losing, woman???!!!!
Of course, in case she couldn't hear the broadcast, she could hear my phone buzzing with texts from Vinnay after every New England disaster.
I pulled over at a resstop and began to reply to him.
"Bite me."
"Go to hell."
"Aren't you a Cowboys fan now, you stupid jerkface?"
A few moments after we got back on the road, Buffalo got a pick six and the Bills were in the lead again.
I turned off my phone. The Patriots couldn't respond and we had to settle for a field goal. Buffalo took the lead into halfttime.
I turned off the radio and glumly finished the ride in Atlantic City.
The players were back on the field by the time Mary and I got to the hotel checkin.
"What the hell are they wearing??" I screamed at the TV, horrified by the scarlet red uniforms. They reminded me of the goat sucking Hahvard Cantab uniforms. Sure enough, it was some bullshit throwback to New England's stint as the Boston Patriots. Vomit.
As I watched a couple of plays, I would accidentally root for the Bills because their uniforms looked more like the traditional Pats gear.
So frustrating.
Time for poker.
As I walked to the room in my jersey, a couple of black dudes were like "you're a Pats fan? They're not doing so good right now!"
I glared.
Seriously, I don't think people realize how personally I take my football.
I didn't bother asking what teams they rooted for.
I got to the poker room in time to see the Bills score AGAIN. Ugh.
It was grim.
By the fourth quarter I needed something good to happen. I was slumped in a chair, now taking text abuse from Doris as well. (I guess he knows his Jets don't stand a chance, so might as well latch onto the Bills' luckbox victory.)
By the time I watched the Bills come back from 3rd and 15 after a SACK to get a first down AND score a Touchdown I was ready to open a vein.
5 minutes left. Down 11. This. Game. Was. Over.
I also picked the Patriots in my suicide pool, so I would be out of that too. FIRST! Even before G-train! And he's gay! (That was inappropriate. I'm turning myself into that website now.)
I cry. I started my 'shut the hell up' blog post.
Then Brady hit Watson, and we pulled within 5.
"Big fucking deal, Tom! TOO LATE!" I yelled at the TV. And then the Pats fucked up the two point conversion.
Greeeaatt. No Gostkowski points either.
I. Was. Pissed.
I looked away and then heard the television announcers verbally wet their pants with excitement.
"New England came up with it! New England's got it!"
I looked back.
The red uniforms were furiously pointing their arms toward the Buffalo red zone.
OH MY GOD!!!!!!
I fell out of my chair.
(Dawn is NOT making that up.)
Brady was back on the field!!! My phone was suddenly silent.
Plleeaaasseee Gooooddddd.
I made my bargains with the Almighty.
Boom! Brady to Watson! TD!
It's good!
Hahahahahahahhahahahahahahhaah
I sat quitely waiting out the clock.
No premature gloating texts.
And then the beautiful F appeared.
Patriots: 25 Bills: 24 F.
Hahahhahahhahahahahahahhahaha
OH MAN.
Football is AWESOME.
A friend has gotten us tickets to go to the game at Giants stadium on Sunday.
I will be the girl wearing Patriots gear from head to toe screaming "I love you Tom!"
Quote me.
Also, um, what's the best treatment for black eyes?
I was screaming my head off in an almost empty poker room at Bally's when Tom Brady drilled his second TD pass to Ben Watson in under three minutes.
"Nah, I'm just a fan."
Ha! I was decked out in my personalized Pats jersey, which I was wearing over my Patriots T-shirt. When it's game day, I bring it New England style!
Unfortunately, business meant that I would be on the road to the office, instead of on my couch or at a bar by kickoff. Alceste told me I could probably find the game on AM radio. Sure enough, as soon as I flipped the dial to AM the announcers were calling the game. My heart stopped when they said "Brady looks hurt." Fuck! Then they said something about Kansas City and Mary pointed out that it was only 7:02 -not time enough for anything to really have happened yet. Sure enough, it was just a replay of last year's season opener. No need to wrap my car around a tree.
That would come later.
When the Riots couldn't get a first down in Buffalo terrority. When Gostkowski missed the field goal. When Buffalo scored first! Ugh. Alack! Wail!
It was dark on the Garden State and the orange glow of the display on the radio console was giving the night an eery feeling.
"I wish I hadn't found this stupid radio station," I complained bitterly.
"Listening to football games in the car reminds me of when I was a kid and my dad would put them on in the car on Sundays," Mary said.
Oh, so happy for you and your having a dad as a child having ways! Do you not hear the Patriots losing, woman???!!!!
Of course, in case she couldn't hear the broadcast, she could hear my phone buzzing with texts from Vinnay after every New England disaster.
I pulled over at a resstop and began to reply to him.
"Bite me."
"Go to hell."
"Aren't you a Cowboys fan now, you stupid jerkface?"
A few moments after we got back on the road, Buffalo got a pick six and the Bills were in the lead again.
I turned off my phone. The Patriots couldn't respond and we had to settle for a field goal. Buffalo took the lead into halfttime.
I turned off the radio and glumly finished the ride in Atlantic City.
The players were back on the field by the time Mary and I got to the hotel checkin.
"What the hell are they wearing??" I screamed at the TV, horrified by the scarlet red uniforms. They reminded me of the goat sucking Hahvard Cantab uniforms. Sure enough, it was some bullshit throwback to New England's stint as the Boston Patriots. Vomit.
As I watched a couple of plays, I would accidentally root for the Bills because their uniforms looked more like the traditional Pats gear.
So frustrating.
Time for poker.
As I walked to the room in my jersey, a couple of black dudes were like "you're a Pats fan? They're not doing so good right now!"
I glared.
Seriously, I don't think people realize how personally I take my football.
I didn't bother asking what teams they rooted for.
I got to the poker room in time to see the Bills score AGAIN. Ugh.
It was grim.
By the fourth quarter I needed something good to happen. I was slumped in a chair, now taking text abuse from Doris as well. (I guess he knows his Jets don't stand a chance, so might as well latch onto the Bills' luckbox victory.)
By the time I watched the Bills come back from 3rd and 15 after a SACK to get a first down AND score a Touchdown I was ready to open a vein.
5 minutes left. Down 11. This. Game. Was. Over.
I also picked the Patriots in my suicide pool, so I would be out of that too. FIRST! Even before G-train! And he's gay! (That was inappropriate. I'm turning myself into that website now.)
I cry. I started my 'shut the hell up' blog post.
Then Brady hit Watson, and we pulled within 5.
"Big fucking deal, Tom! TOO LATE!" I yelled at the TV. And then the Pats fucked up the two point conversion.
Greeeaatt. No Gostkowski points either.
I. Was. Pissed.
I looked away and then heard the television announcers verbally wet their pants with excitement.
"New England came up with it! New England's got it!"
I looked back.
The red uniforms were furiously pointing their arms toward the Buffalo red zone.
OH MY GOD!!!!!!
I fell out of my chair.
(Dawn is NOT making that up.)
Brady was back on the field!!! My phone was suddenly silent.
Plleeaaasseee Gooooddddd.
I made my bargains with the Almighty.
Boom! Brady to Watson! TD!
It's good!
Hahahahahahahhahahahahahahhaah
I sat quitely waiting out the clock.
No premature gloating texts.
And then the beautiful F appeared.
Patriots: 25 Bills: 24 F.
Hahahhahahhahahahahahahhahaha
OH MAN.
Football is AWESOME.
A friend has gotten us tickets to go to the game at Giants stadium on Sunday.
I will be the girl wearing Patriots gear from head to toe screaming "I love you Tom!"
Quote me.
Also, um, what's the best treatment for black eyes?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Conversation of the Day
Me: The Jets are such cheaters.
KJ: Why? What'd they do?
Me: Lied about Favre's injuries!
KJ: Whatever, you think *that"s* cheating? Come on.
Me: No, but I don't think videotaping your opponents when they are practicing out in the open is cheating either.
KJ: Why? What'd they do?
Me: Lied about Favre's injuries!
KJ: Whatever, you think *that"s* cheating? Come on.
Me: No, but I don't think videotaping your opponents when they are practicing out in the open is cheating either.
Football Season!
With the Steelers victory over the Titans, people can stop telling me to "chill because it's only preseason." Fuckers. Not my fault your team wasn't 3-1. I'm doing two fantasy leagues this year. The first, with my old law firm buddies and bloggers extraordinaire Alceste and Vinnay. That league had a snake draft (I think that's what it's called) and I was like 8th out of ten, such sucky positioning. Of course, I took Tom Brady with my first pick, and planned to take Moss with my second pick, but the evil Mark ruined all those plans. I did end up with a three-man Patriot force though: Brady, Taylor, and Gostkowski. I also have the Steeler Defense. So last night game was a good thing! My team is called the Zac Attacks and here's the lineup:
Tom Brady
(NE - QB)
WR
Roddy White
(Atl - WR)
WR
Terrell Owens
(Buf - WR)
RB
Chris Johnson
(Ten - RB)
RB
Fred Taylor
(NE - RB)
TE
Owen Daniels
(Hou - TE)
W/T
Kevin Walter
(Hou - WR)
BN
Darren McFadden
(Oak - RB)
BN
Julius Jones
(Sea - RB)
BN
Matt Hasselbeck
(Sea - QB)
StL Sun
Steve Smith
BN
Earl Bennett
(Chi - WR)
BN
Michael Jenkins
(Atl - WR)
K
Stephen Gostkowski
(NE - K)
Buf Mon
4:00 pm 98% - - - - - - 0.00
DEF
Pittsburgh
My other league is with Scrabble people and they used a preset draft system. I guess I got number one pick in that league cause this is what my team looks like:
QB
Matt Cassel
(KC - QB)
@Bal Sun
1:00 pm 6.18 0.00
QB
Jake Delhomme
(Car - QB)
Phi Sun
1:00 pm 7.95 0.00
WR
Reggie Wayne
(Ind - WR)
Jac Sun
1:00 pm 6.77 0.00
WR
Santana Moss
(Was - WR)
@NYG Sun
4:15 pm 4.61 0.00
RB
Adrian Peterson
(Min - RB)
@Cle Sun
1:00 pm 11.14 0.00
RB
Marion Barber
(Dal - RB)
@TB Sun
1:00 pm 6.80 0.00
TE
Antonio Gates
(SD - TE)
@Oak Mon
10:15 pm 4.93 0.00
W/R
Reggie Bush
(NO - RB)
Det Sun
1:00 pm 10.70 0.00
K
Mason Crosby
(GB - K)
Chi Sun
8:20 pm 8.81 0.00
K
John Kasay
(Car - K)
Phi Sun
1:00 pm 8.05 0.00
DEF
Miami
(Mia - DEF)
@Atl Sun
1:00 pm 5.53 0.00
DEF
Cincinnati
(Cin - DEF)
Tom Brady
(NE - QB)
WR
Roddy White
(Atl - WR)
WR
Terrell Owens
(Buf - WR)
RB
Chris Johnson
(Ten - RB)
RB
Fred Taylor
(NE - RB)
TE
Owen Daniels
(Hou - TE)
W/T
Kevin Walter
(Hou - WR)
BN
Darren McFadden
(Oak - RB)
BN
Julius Jones
(Sea - RB)
BN
Matt Hasselbeck
(Sea - QB)
StL Sun
Steve Smith
BN
Earl Bennett
(Chi - WR)
BN
Michael Jenkins
(Atl - WR)
K
Stephen Gostkowski
(NE - K)
Buf Mon
4:00 pm 98% - - - - - - 0.00
DEF
Pittsburgh
My other league is with Scrabble people and they used a preset draft system. I guess I got number one pick in that league cause this is what my team looks like:
QB
Matt Cassel
(KC - QB)
@Bal Sun
1:00 pm 6.18 0.00
QB
Jake Delhomme
(Car - QB)
Phi Sun
1:00 pm 7.95 0.00
WR
Reggie Wayne
(Ind - WR)
Jac Sun
1:00 pm 6.77 0.00
WR
Santana Moss
(Was - WR)
@NYG Sun
4:15 pm 4.61 0.00
RB
Adrian Peterson
(Min - RB)
@Cle Sun
1:00 pm 11.14 0.00
RB
Marion Barber
(Dal - RB)
@TB Sun
1:00 pm 6.80 0.00
TE
Antonio Gates
(SD - TE)
@Oak Mon
10:15 pm 4.93 0.00
W/R
Reggie Bush
(NO - RB)
Det Sun
1:00 pm 10.70 0.00
K
Mason Crosby
(GB - K)
Chi Sun
8:20 pm 8.81 0.00
K
John Kasay
(Car - K)
Phi Sun
1:00 pm 8.05 0.00
DEF
Miami
(Mia - DEF)
@Atl Sun
1:00 pm 5.53 0.00
DEF
Cincinnati
(Cin - DEF)
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Stunned
Al Michaels just announced on NBC's Sunday Night Football telecast that New England Patriots LB Tedy Bruschi will announce his retirement tomorrow.
The Patriots have not confirmed the news but did issue a press release saying "The New England Patriots have called a press conference for an important player announcement at 10:45 Monday morning."
No words. It's a sad day in Dawnville tonight.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Lost the second preseason game, gained a new fan
Vinnay is now a Patriots fan! Go congratulate him on his new home.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Because everybody hates the Cowboys
Bengals focussed "Hard Knocks" outperforms 2008's version starring the Cowgirls.
Nielsen Media Research reports that the HBO television network experienced significant ratings increases, compared to 2008, with the premiere episode of “Hard Knocks ’09: Training Camp with the Cincinnati Bengals.”
The Aug. 12 telecast at 10 p.m. EDT delivered a 1.66 national household rating and 533,000 national household impressions. Compared to 2008, when the Dallas Cowboys were featured on Hard Knocks, the premiere episode was up 28 percent in household rating and 35 percent in household impressions.
Nielsen Media Research reports that the HBO television network experienced significant ratings increases, compared to 2008, with the premiere episode of “Hard Knocks ’09: Training Camp with the Cincinnati Bengals.”
The Aug. 12 telecast at 10 p.m. EDT delivered a 1.66 national household rating and 533,000 national household impressions. Compared to 2008, when the Dallas Cowboys were featured on Hard Knocks, the premiere episode was up 28 percent in household rating and 35 percent in household impressions.
Go Riots!
Second preseason game tonight against the Bengals. I've been following Chad Ocho Cinco on twitter. What a crazy dude. I've unfollowed him though in preparation for tonight's showdown. I'm hoping I will get to watch the game, but I'm not overly optimistic.
So, what's the deal with preseason, anyway? Does it really not matter? The Patriots lost all their preseason games last year and then didn't make the playoffs. I say that isn't a coincidence! :)
So, what's the deal with preseason, anyway? Does it really not matter? The Patriots lost all their preseason games last year and then didn't make the playoffs. I say that isn't a coincidence! :)
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Your mom is soft
GAME TIME! Pats v. Eagles and Brady says "put me in coach."
Um, have I mentioned that I kinda love him?
Vinnay scoffs at the idea of Brady taking snaps against Philly's third stringers, but the Riots don't play football scared. We play football. If Brady's game, I hope Belichick puts him in there. The Pats have gone through some changes in the off-season, but the core men assigned to protect Tom remain unchanged: Mankins, Light, Neal, Kaczur, Coppen. On the other hand, those were the men protecting him on 9/3/08. Groan.
Above all things, I trust in Belichick, though. So, um, whatever happens, is good with me. I don't even think I can see the game in NYC, anyway...boo.
GO PATS, CRUUUUUUSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH THOSE BIRDS!
And that's when the two-time Super Bowl MVP plans to prove that, despite all the trappings of his success, he has not gone soft.
"I'm a believer that talk is real cheap," Brady said this summer. "I know it looks glamorous at times, but I think what I enjoy the most is playing football and being with my family, and those are the kind of things that I do. I'm excited to go out there and compete."
Um, have I mentioned that I kinda love him?
Vinnay scoffs at the idea of Brady taking snaps against Philly's third stringers, but the Riots don't play football scared. We play football. If Brady's game, I hope Belichick puts him in there. The Pats have gone through some changes in the off-season, but the core men assigned to protect Tom remain unchanged: Mankins, Light, Neal, Kaczur, Coppen. On the other hand, those were the men protecting him on 9/3/08. Groan.
Above all things, I trust in Belichick, though. So, um, whatever happens, is good with me. I don't even think I can see the game in NYC, anyway...boo.
GO PATS, CRUUUUUUSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH THOSE BIRDS!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Can someone come take my temperature?
I'm pretty sure I have PATRIOTS FEVER!!!!
ONE MORE MONTH! ONE MORE MONTH!!! Unless, you believe the hype and think Tom is actually taking snaps against the Eagles on Thursday...do we? Do we believe that hype???
A girl can only dream!!
ONE MORE MONTH! ONE MORE MONTH!!! Unless, you believe the hype and think Tom is actually taking snaps against the Eagles on Thursday...do we? Do we believe that hype???
A girl can only dream!!
Monday, August 10, 2009
Football's back!
I watched three quarters of last night's thrashing of Buffalo before falling asleep. The touchdown by the punter was sooo classic! I am not at all afraid of TO.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Tom Brady says he'll play in the preseason
And anyone that believes that for even a second, hasn't been paying much attention.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Another Brady Rule
Tom first entered common lingo as the most famous beneficiary of the tuck rule, now usually called "the Brady Tuck rule" after it saved our win against the Raiders. (All hail the tuck rule! HAIL!) Now, Tom has inspired a new rule:
Now, I also wanted to rip Bernie Pollard's eyes out for ending New England's Superbowl revenge fantasies, but truthfully, he didn't do anything wrong. He did his job, unlike our freaking offensive line. WHAT THE HELL, GUYS!! PROTECT THE BRADY!!! THAT'S ALL WE ASK!!! PROTECT HIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMM. So, I'm not psyched about the creation of this rule. The other team tears your QBs ACL, you tear their QBs ACL AND his take out a lung. (Sorry, Cassel.) It's football not, what's some sissy lame sport? Soccer. I hate that the NFL is regulating all the bad assness from te hgame. Don't get me started on the "excessive celebration" rules.
IT WAS A SNOW ANGEL FOR GOODNESS SAKES!
FOXBOROUGH - When Patriots quarterback Tom Brady crashed to the Gillette Stadium
turf, his left knee mangled after being struck by Chiefs safety Bernard Pollard
in last year’s season opener, there was something noticeably missing.
A
penalty flag.
By rule, the NFL determined that referee Carl Cheffers
made the correct call by keeping the yellow flag in his grasp. This year,
however, that type of play will be an infraction.
Some are calling it
the “Tom Brady Rule.’’
The change was highlighted yesterday at Gillette
Stadium as referee Terry McAulay visited Patriots training camp, meeting with
both the team and media members. McAulay, who worked Super Bowls XXXIX (in which
the Patriots beat the Eagles) and XLIII and is one of the NFL’s most respected
officials, explained that referees will be ready to unfurl their flags at
Pollard-like hits this year.
Now, I also wanted to rip Bernie Pollard's eyes out for ending New England's Superbowl revenge fantasies, but truthfully, he didn't do anything wrong. He did his job, unlike our freaking offensive line. WHAT THE HELL, GUYS!! PROTECT THE BRADY!!! THAT'S ALL WE ASK!!! PROTECT HIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMM. So, I'm not psyched about the creation of this rule. The other team tears your QBs ACL, you tear their QBs ACL AND his take out a lung. (Sorry, Cassel.) It's football not, what's some sissy lame sport? Soccer. I hate that the NFL is regulating all the bad assness from te hgame. Don't get me started on the "excessive celebration" rules.
IT WAS A SNOW ANGEL FOR GOODNESS SAKES!
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
New Jersey Jets
As much as I taunt the Buffalo Bills, at least they actual play in *Buffalo*. How artarded to you have to be to not even know what State you play in, jeez. So, today's trash talking: Jersey Jets.
I heard this one a while ago: What does Jets stand for? Just End The Season already.
I know that's how I felt watching Favre puke all over the field in the last game against the Dolphins. (Metaphorical puke, not the real, Donovan McNabb OMG-the-Superbowl-is-SO-HARD-can't-we-just-agree-to-tie-? kinda puking.)
But yesterday, I read this one and it made me laugh and laugh:
What's the difference between the Jets and a dollar?
You can get four quarters out of a dollar.
HAHAHAHAHAHAH
Suck it, Jersey!
I heard this one a while ago: What does Jets stand for? Just End The Season already.
I know that's how I felt watching Favre puke all over the field in the last game against the Dolphins. (Metaphorical puke, not the real, Donovan McNabb OMG-the-Superbowl-is-SO-HARD-can't-we-just-agree-to-tie-? kinda puking.)
But yesterday, I read this one and it made me laugh and laugh:
What's the difference between the Jets and a dollar?
You can get four quarters out of a dollar.
HAHAHAHAHAHAH
Suck it, Jersey!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Not so random thought
I wanted to name my blog "BradytoMossTouchdown," but in addition to being way too long (when you add .blogspot), I understand the reality that we do ultimately root for laundry and I will be a Pats fan even (sob) after Tom and Randy are gone. Pats players come and go, but the Bills will suck forever.
Oh, speaking of which, my nemesis in the AFC East, Vinnay, has started a rival football blog.
Go laugh at him. And then ask him where his Randy Moss jersey is.
Oh, speaking of which, my nemesis in the AFC East, Vinnay, has started a rival football blog.
Go laugh at him. And then ask him where his Randy Moss jersey is.
It's not easy being me
I've been a Patriots fan since November 2007.
I also live in Brooklyn, New York.
So, pretty much my life has been hell for almost two years. First, I was heckled as a bandwagon jumper (hey, if there is an awesome wagon with a hot quarterback a superfly Wide Receiver, with their merry band of undefeated awesomeness driving right by your window, why the hell *wouldn't* you jump on??) And then I was mercilessly mocked when my team lost the Superbowl to the spawn of Satan and the New Jersey Giants.
As if that wasn't enough, I was deluged with sarcastic condolences for the loss of Tom Brady during the first game of the '08 season.
Bastards.
But I perserved! I huddled together with my fellow Brooklyn based Pats fans in various Brooklyn bars and we watched the untested Matt Cassel take us so close to the promised land.
Soooo cllooooossseeeee. (Insert I-hate-Brett-Favre-soo-much moaning here.)
But all that is behind us.
Tom is Back.
He's healthy and better than ever. (Hopefully.) (Am looking for supportive, cheery words that rhyme with O'Connell, just in case.)
And hey, as bad as things are, they could be worse.
We could be Buffalo Bills fans.
Or have Brett Favre be our last saving hope for a decent season. BRETT FAVRE! HAHAHAHAHAAHA
As you can tell, both by those last few sentence AND the name of this blog, I like to talk trash.
I especially like to talk trash during the football season.
I don't know that much about football, but I have much love for the Patriots and much hate for all other teams. Especially the Giants. And the Eagles. And the Colts. And the Jets. And the Dolphins. And the Cowboys.
I have grudging respect for the Steelers. But we're coming for you guys. Trust that.
Have nothing but pity and mockery for the Bills and the Vikings. And the Saints (they count as a real NFL frachise, right? I mean, barely, but they get in there, right?)
I will hate the other teams with greater specificity as they face my boys or affect the Patriots' push for number four.
Heh.
Welcome to my blog.
I also live in Brooklyn, New York.
So, pretty much my life has been hell for almost two years. First, I was heckled as a bandwagon jumper (hey, if there is an awesome wagon with a hot quarterback a superfly Wide Receiver, with their merry band of undefeated awesomeness driving right by your window, why the hell *wouldn't* you jump on??) And then I was mercilessly mocked when my team lost the Superbowl to the spawn of Satan and the New Jersey Giants.
As if that wasn't enough, I was deluged with sarcastic condolences for the loss of Tom Brady during the first game of the '08 season.
Bastards.
But I perserved! I huddled together with my fellow Brooklyn based Pats fans in various Brooklyn bars and we watched the untested Matt Cassel take us so close to the promised land.
Soooo cllooooossseeeee. (Insert I-hate-Brett-Favre-soo-much moaning here.)
But all that is behind us.
Tom is Back.
He's healthy and better than ever. (Hopefully.) (Am looking for supportive, cheery words that rhyme with O'Connell, just in case.)
And hey, as bad as things are, they could be worse.
We could be Buffalo Bills fans.
Or have Brett Favre be our last saving hope for a decent season. BRETT FAVRE! HAHAHAHAHAAHA
As you can tell, both by those last few sentence AND the name of this blog, I like to talk trash.
I especially like to talk trash during the football season.
I don't know that much about football, but I have much love for the Patriots and much hate for all other teams. Especially the Giants. And the Eagles. And the Colts. And the Jets. And the Dolphins. And the Cowboys.
I have grudging respect for the Steelers. But we're coming for you guys. Trust that.
Have nothing but pity and mockery for the Bills and the Vikings. And the Saints (they count as a real NFL frachise, right? I mean, barely, but they get in there, right?)
I will hate the other teams with greater specificity as they face my boys or affect the Patriots' push for number four.
Heh.
Welcome to my blog.
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