With a father who spent 14 years of young adulthood in Boston, you could easily assume that 'Sunday Football' was a part of the weekly ritual. Now, being daddy's very little girl I couldn't help hitching under his arm watching a bunch of giants fighting over a ball. Even as a baby, he'd hold me in his arms while using his cheek to feed me a bottle so he could use the remote during a game. I guess it soon became inevitable that I'd become a die hard Patriots fan, and by die hard I mean crying at seeing them lose the SuperBowl last Sunday. I spent the night with two of my girlfriends, and enjoyed it, besides the fact that my team lost... We opened the night with wine and wings, but ended it with tears - or at least I did.
This really is a pointless post, but I felt I owed it to the Patriots, despite their loss.