Moving on to Cincinnati

I don’t know if you’ve heard but we’re moving on to Cincinnati.

Waiting for Monday Night

The locals are bracing for a pigskin tsunami of humiliation on a national stage this week. Monday Night Football. It’s the game that everyone else in the NFL is watching. The game every football fan is watching. No hiding place.

It’s a huge early season test for the Patriots. The Chiefs in Kansas City in front of a crowd determined to wrest the title of loudest crowd (on the Guinness Book of World Records scale) from the Seattle faithful of “12^th Man” fame. Part-man, part-machine ballers Tamba Hali, Dontari Poe and Justin Houston will feast on the weak and cowardly New England offensive line, rending their flesh and crushing their skulls before sucking the marrow from the bones of Tom Brady’s broken body.

Figuratively, of course.

A Win is a Win

The Patriots are 2-1-0 and tied for first place in the AFC East. Cue the lamentation of the women.

Back to the Show

It never ceases to amaze me how poorly we take prosperity here in Patriots Nation. Our football team responded to a lackluster performance to open the season with a resounding victory in week 2 and all we can do is kvetch about the passing game’s lack of its usual sophistication. Maybe it’s just me but the 30-7 win over the Vikings last Sunday reminded me a lot of those 2003-04 Patriots. Dominating defense, a big play on special teams, a solid running game and an efficient Tom Brady running the show. Can New England play better?

Yes.

I think that’s the good news. And I’m taking the W.

Please, Please, Please

Please, please, please NFL. Stop making me hate you. Let me go back to loving Sundays. Please. It doesn’t seem like it’s really all that hard. Wrong is wrong. Just because our parents or grandparents did things a certain way doesn’t make it right. Follow the “good enough for my parents” argument to its conclusion and you’ll justify slavery. You’ll be cool with polygamy. You’ll be the ape with a lethal leg bone in “2001: A Space Odyssey.” My mother once “spanked” me with a shoe. We weren’t living down South when that happened so I don’t think you can write that off as a “cultural norm.” I don’t remember what childhood crime I committed that caused my mother to levy this judgment on me. I was three years old. I don’t remember all that much of my third year on the planet. I didn’t learn to swear till much later in life (thanks Uncle Ross) but maybe I was inadvertently blasphemous. Maybe I repeated something I heard my cousin David say. I thought my cousin David was the coolest when I was a kid. I would’ve repeated anything he said as gospel cool. Like the fact our Uncle Phil was a “douchebag” (whatever that was). Or maybe I spilled my juice. Whatever it was I did, when I periodically take stock of who I am today and what I’ve accomplished in my life, I have never thought, “Thank Christ Mom hit me with that shoe. Phew! Who knows where I’d be today if she hadn’t?”

Then again, complexity theory says I could blame mom for everything that happened after she hit me with that shoe.

It’s tempting.

It’s always tempting to blame someone else for our actions.

Learning to Get Back Up

Why do we fall?

If you’re fans of the Christopher Nolan/Christian Bale Batman movies, you know the answer to that question. And if you aren’t, we should probably break up right here, right now, and avoid the inevitable screaming fight over The Dark Knight Rises. There’s no coming back from that. Just give me back my Tom Brady jersey and there’s a chance we can still be friends. Seriously, I want that that Tom Brady jersey back.

I Can Always Panic Next Week

Where am I? Upsidedownsylvania? The Jets, Dolphins and Bills are tied for first and the Patriots are all alone in the basement of the AFC East?

And what’s that smell? That is like noisome times rank. Oh! That was the Patriots second half performance down in Miami. Oh. Well, open a window!