Yesterday I watched the New England Patriots tear up the turf against the Buffalo Bills. At first I wasn’t all that enthralled, especially when it seemed like it was just one long series of commercials. After a while, though, and a big glass of beer on ice (at which Andy laughed hysterically – apparently drinking beer on ice is not the traditional manner to drink it) I started to get into it. Early on, the Bills were ahead, and I thought my usual curse of watching and having my team of choice lose was back in effect [See Red Sox circa 1986], but then they turned it around, Tom Brady ran a touchdown himself, and the excitement of being on the side of the winning team was suddenly contagious. I finally got be part of a football game that other people were talking about on FaceBook and Twitter, and even though I knew little to nothing of what was happening, a few rules of play crept back from my Marching Rams days, and it began to make some sense. I may succumb to Sunday Football after all. (The beer’s going to take a little more time.)
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