I’m sitting in an office on the tenth floor of a downtown NYC building.
Just outside my window, in the streets below, is a gaggle of Giants fans lining the parade route waiting for the Superbowl champions to float by in a few hours.
In essence, I am currently in hell.
It’s a hell of my own making, I suppose. When one chooses to live in the greatest city in the world AND root for the greatest football franchise in the world — bad things are bound to happen. But I wouldn’t live anywhere else and I wouldn’t root for any football team but the Patriots. The heart wants what it wants.
I don’t have much to say about the game, except I was disappointed, but not surprised. This wasn’t 2008. That we even made the Superbowl was its own miraculous occurence. As per usual, I have my thoughts about those who — despite not following/discussing football with me for the past six months, suddenly feel at liberty to trash talk my Patriots in my twitter at reply feed or on my facebook wall. O_o
If you’re not a Giants fan, you can pretty much go fuck yourself; if you weren’t a Giants fan in December when they lost to the Redskins for the second time of the season, you can also go fuck yourself. If are and were a Giants fan, well, hats off to you, congrats, good win. Yes, you own us.
I know that some find it silly, all this general mopiness following a sports disappointment. And I get that, no one died, nothing collapsed — but the same way that I don’t understand pet ownership, yet respect that when a pet dies owners are sad and the appropriate response is to offer condolences, not shrug and say “who cares” — those in my circles should understand by now –I love my Riots and my Rangers and my Mets. The Patriots lost the Superbowl and I’m sad about it.
I’m sure I will be not sad sometime in the not-too-distant-future but until then… thanks for your sympathy or fuck off — pick whichever applies to you.