The flip side of love isn't hate; it's pain.
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The flip side of love isn't hate; it's pain.
I like to think of myself as a man of science and reason. I subscribe to the notion that momentum is a phenomena limited to physics; that "clutch" is nothing more than the typical variations in small data samples, and "choking" applies only to scenarios in which an unfortunate diner has failed to sufficiently chew that overly optimistic piece of meatloaf before attempting to swallow it.
And yet, there are games I watch where I just know one team is going to make a play when it matters most and the other team will need the pigskin Heimlich.
Does it motivate professional football players to play better - or angrier, at least - when their opponent says mean things about their sister?
It is a game of emotions, after all.
This is the weekend of stress free football. Sort of. Just because New England is on their bye week doesn't mean there aren't games the good citizens of Patriots Nation need to worry about.
I spent my Tuesday basking in the heat and occasional light of hot takes following New England's MNF win in Buffalo, as pigskin pundits and bobbleheads tried to come to grips with what had happened Monday night in Buffalo. The Patriots had run the ball, run the ball, and then run the ball some more, ultimately winning a football game played in a wind tunnel called Highmark Stadium by the score of 14-10. They threw the football exactly 3 times.
The New England Patriots went to Buffalo to chew bubblegum and kick ass.
But they forgot the bubblegum.
And the forward pass.