While watching the game yesterday, I overheard someone put it best.
In the second quarter, after Jacksonville scored their first touchdown, a fellow Pats fan said, “I love when the other team starts dancing.”
He was referring to the Jaguars, who were breaking it down like the end zone was doubling as Studio 54.
“I just think to myself, that’s good. Get all your dancing out now. You won’t be dancing in the 4th quarter.”
And boy was he right. The dancing certainly stopped for the team, who later blew their 10 point lead and paved the way for the Patriots to head to another Superbowl.
It seems like every time the Patriots are down, the rival team let’s it go straight to their heads. They go crazy with premature celebrations. They kneel when they should play. They get complacent when they should stay vigilient. To put it simply, they forget who they are dealing with.
Howie will definitely cringe while reading this article, but alas, I have to get this out there.
And the reason I feel compelled to write this puffed-up ode to the Patriots is because I know this won’t last forever.
Someday, maybe soon, maybe far, we will no longer be the most incredible team in sports. But in this sliver of time, we are.
And I refuse not to be grateful for that.
There were generations of people before me that rarely saw parades and hands decked out in Superbowl rings.
My grandfather, Joseph “Bubbles” Boyle, watched the Red Sox, Bruins, and Patriots whenever they were on. He played right guard for South Boston High’s football team. They were coached by Steve White and in the 1938-39 season they were unbeaten, untied. In a time period where fun was fleeting, football offered a great deal of it to my grandfather and his teammates.
I’ll always remember when my mother bought him a brand new HD TV. Once we got it out of the box, we turned on the Pats game for him. He was stunned at the quality of the picture. “This is incredible. It is like we are there.”
But unlike me, my grandfather and so many others from the greatest generations, were accustomed to a very different trend. They sat through losses. A lot of them.
So are we spoiled nowadays with a team made up of not one or two, but several Goliaths? Absolutely.
But if we can soak it in and appreciate it, I think we’re giving a nice nod to all those guys like my Grampy. Guys who would’ve smiled from their designated TV chairs and raised their beer to Boston, their city, being on top.
I love the Patriots. They drive everyone else in the world completely bonkers. Between Donald Trump and Tom Brady, the pink-hatted lefties from the Resistance are all going to need straight jackets before the year is up. So even though I’m in a WE WON kind of mood, and I’m sure I’ll get some well-deserved grief from the boss man for this, I’m saying it loud and proud today.
Let’s go Pats.