It’s the high holiday of New England football. The big game is tonight and we’re in it. Brady shirts abound at the packies and chicken wings are sold out at Market Basket. Facebook is littered with pictures of super fans and Twitter battles have begun between coasts. As much as I despise the sports heavy culture, we’re ready here too. Corn bread has been made, pork shoulder is in the over, baked beans are in the slow cooker and iced cream is pie in the freezer. Chips are ready, dips are waiting and cheese is sliced.
It’s four hours until the big game starts. The regular Sunday crowd will arrive in an hour or so, no one extra and everyone will take their regular seats – it’s a superstitious crew. There will be lots of laughs and one uppings as game time approaches, but then it begins. The mood will change and the energy will be tense. The need for victory is beyond what I understand. If the Pats take a comfortable lead fist bumps and glee will fill the room, but if the Pats fall behind it will be quiet, gloomy. If we’re winning snack and seltzer will be consumed at a rapid pace, if we’re losing, I’ll be eating left overs for a week. If victory is ours, dessert will be served and we’ll await the 5th Quarter and making bets on what kind of outfit Tom will be sporting. If we lose, I’ll bring the brownies to work and the house will be empty before the 5th Quarter starts. Alas that is sports in New England.
Let’s go Pats!