Clareified

The first time I watched the Patriots game at a NYC bar, I got there at one and learned a valuable lesson…get there at one, stand for two hours. So, yesterday, I made sure to leave early. Unfortunately, I got a little lost. I planned to go to a bar in Brooklyn this time, one called the Wicked Monk that has been sending me emails to my myspace account for the past few weeks. Now, I don’t know why, but I assumed the bar started sending me these emails because I updated my myspace profile to include “Patriots fan,” and I figured they must show Patriots games when the boys play. The bar was in my high school’s neighborhood, so I assumed I knew how to get there. I was wrong. But never ye mind, it was still a few minutes to 1 by the time I found it. I parked and walked to the bar. I peeked in. There was NO ONE there! Well, there was a bartender and a dude sitting on a barstool, but that was it. SCORE! I have found my official favorite Patriots’ bar. I pulled the door open and walked in. I looked up and the Jets were on TV. I walked to the other TV. Also Jets. TV at the far end? More Jets.
What zee ‘ell man?
I asked the bartender if they were planning to show the Pats game.
“Sorry, love, we’ve just got what’s on network TV.”
Are ya kidding me?
Why have them been emailing me for months? Ugh.
I promptly walked out, but I had no backup plan. I tried to call the local bar in my neighborhood, but…um…okay, I didnt try that hard. I figured I would just go to the bar where I hung out with G-train and Ugarles. I didn’t exactly remember where it was, so I aimed for the general neighborhood. I actually drove past Mary’s apartment and resisted the urge to yell “Mary sucks!” as I went by. I finally found the place. It was PACKED. Oh, I’ll be standing, but good.
“Dawn Summers?”
I turned around. I came face to chest with this six foot five african american woman staring down at me. I looked up. “Uh…”
She continued to stare smiling…
“Heeeey, yooouuuu!!! What’s upp! Oh my gosh, it’s been like forever!!” (AKA insert generic greeting for person you do not know but yet who knows you.)
“Girl, how you been?”
“Good, good. You?”
“I’m alright. You here to watch football?”
“Uh huh.”
“Jets?”
(I will take this opportunity to note this is what I was wearing at the time:

Okay, so I obviously don’t know her from Yale…
“No, New England.”
She snorted.
“The Pats? Girl you tripping.”
I smiled. “Well, I gotta go, I heard they’re losing to Seattle and the dude will not abide that.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
I went to the bar and scanned the long row of teevees. The Pats were on number 2 and number 6. Number 3 was Kansas City, Number 4 was Jets, Number 1 was Miami and Number 5 was Cowboys.
In other words: HATE, LOVE, indifferent, HATE, HATE, LOVE.
It was very confusing. But I mostly settled on watching the sadness that was my Patriots. Seattle was just burning them. BURNING! The worst was Branch’s 60+ run to get the Seahawks into scoring position. He literally tricked the Pats defense into thinking he went out of bounds, so they would walk away from him and then he just ran downfield. It was unbelieveable. “No, don’t hit me, I’m out of bounds.”
“Ok, see ya later.”
I was standing next to one of the handful of Patriots fans in the bar and we were both sick as Seattle scored a few seconds later to take a ten point lead in the second half.
“This is bad,” he said.
“Yeah, this is not good.”
He both drank.
The bar was mostly Steelers and Cowboys fans (well, and Jets obviously) so it was soo loud. The Cowboys guys kept like yelling and blowing whistles whenever their guys scored. Which was often. I couldn’t believe the Cowboys were trouncing the Steelers! THE STEELERS! It was making my Patriots induced nausea worse. And then the Jets tied their game AND Miami was crushing the Bills. I was sad Panda.
I will say this though, the Steelers fans were CRAZY! They have all these chants and they are all like wearing Steelers gear and I’m pretty sure that when that dude told the Cowboys dude that if he blew that whistle in his ear one more time he would make him swallow it, that he wasn’t kidding.
As the clock ran out on New England, a couple of them started cheering the Seahawks. I huddled closer to the other New England fan. Another stupid field goal. Sooo bad. But then the officials took back a Jets touchdown and the bar turned on those officials and left us alone.
Another girl, wearing a Randy Moss jersey, joined us at the end of the bar for the last five minutes of what looked like our season ending game. Nobody said anything and then Cassel threw the ball to…OMG an actual person! A person everybody could see! A real live catching the ball guy! Welker first down! The two of them yelled soo loud! I was quiet. (Last week in Atlantic City I got mocked at the poker table for cheering a first down. Me: YAY!! Guy: It’s so pathetic when people cheer first downs. Me: Oh…well, I’m mostly cheering cause I just learned what that was. Guy: Well, I’m an Eagles fan, so I’m still not sure what they are.) Sure enough, Cassel pulled a Cassel and was still stuck at the same spot on the field by third down. Oh well. But Welker came through one more time! We were on the one yard line at fourth down and they decided to go for it! The three of us were silent, we all stared at the television screen and I’m pretty sure we were all thinking the same thing.
PPllllleeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Touchdown, Patriots!!!!! YAYYYYYAAAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAY
We took a one point lead!! Belichick signaled for two!
We resumed our willing the Patriots into the endzone positions AND THEY MADE IT AGAIN!!! YAY!!! Three point lead! Three minutes left in the game.
Somehow, some way the defense held the Seahawks, forced a turnover and we won! WE WON WE WON WE WON!
The three of us were jumping around AND THEN we saw that the JETS HAD LOST!!! TO THE NINERS!!!! HAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA
The black girl started yelling WE’RE GOING TO THE PLAYOFFS Y’ALL!!!!! The guy and I laughed.
“That game was scary!”
“Yeah, they don’t make that, the season is over.”
“Y’all we going to the Superbowl!”
“Girl, stop talking crazy. One game at a time…that game shouldn’t have been as close as it was.”
“I know, it’s like they were trying to KILL us!”
He introduced himself, I introduced myself to him and the black girl – they already knew each other.
“You going to be here next Sunday? We need you! There’s only like five of us AND YOU’RE FIVE!!”
I laughed.
“I’m not kidding,” she said, “EVERY WEEK! They need us!”
By this time every TV was showing the Steelers game. The Cowboys had a commanding, insurmountable lead, so I shrugged my shoulders at their obvious win and left.
I was soo happy, I got dinner and headed over to my mom’s house.
“You’re bringing me dinner?”
“Sure!”
I did a bunch of chores she’s been harping on me to do for months and then I showed her how to use the scanner (yeah, I can’t imagine ever regretting that decision) and showed her how to take pictures with her phone.
“Wow, you’re in a good mood when the Patriots win. I hope the Patriots win all the time,” she said.
Yeah. ME TOOOOO!!!!!
GOOO CASSEL!!!!
(Oh, and good job Cowboys! BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA)

This entry was posted by Dawn Summers on Monday, December 8th, 2008 at 3:39 pm and is filed under Sports. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.