No Joy in Mudville ... I Mean New England ... and in Easton



Eli @$%#^*% Manning

Mario #@%^&(% Mannigham.

Oh, man that was tough.  

Wes Welker?  You never not make that catch.  

Gronk had a shot at the Hail Mary. 

I knew well a very successful high school football coach who told me that in games he coached in which is team was blown out, he often slept well.   Weird, huh?   He said in those instances he could look back and be fairly confident that nothing different he could have done could have resulted in victory.

But games he coached in which his team lost a close one – when it came down to one play or two – well, those were the games that kept him up at night. 

I just know that this game and the way it played out will at least lightly haunt many of us.  

If only that.  Or if only this.   If only.  

Would it have been better for New England fans had the Patriots not made it to the Super Bowl – if it had to lose in this manner in Indianapolis? 

It was though one heck of a game.   It kept us all there.  

And I know that the New England Patriots honored Myra L. Kraft with their efforts over the season.   The team competed with a zest and emotion and passion and commitment that was, in good portion, about love and tribute to a woman who gave so much of herself to help others.

It is also true that the entire Patriots franchise, stewarded by Bob Kraft, a remarkable and virtuous man who has all the right priorities, is the best in the NFL in terms of commitment to community and conducting itself with class. 

Still, yes, I know – winning the big game is infinitely a better result than losing it. 

What a spectacle this game and event has become.    

How about that 52 year old Madonna?   She showed us 50 is the new 20.  

I also found it interesting the comments that my lady Facebook friends made about the David Beckham underwear commercial that aired during the Super Bowl broadcast.  I got the feeling that they very much liked the commercial, and wouldn’t mind seeing again … and again … and again. 

The game got over at about 10.  Like a high percentage of New England fans who were watching the game at friend’s house, as I was when the clock struck 00:00 and the Rob Gronkowski could not quite make it to the ball, and the storm of confetti commenced, I headed for the door.   And I must tell you the streets of Easton were fairly busy with cars for a late Sunday night.   Vehicles with their lights on were exiting driveways.  

Within these vehicles were the pained and hurt and dispirited. 

I actually watched most of the first half of the game at the on Washington St./Rte. 138, and it was inspiring during the pre-game TV broadcast when a shot was aired of U.S. Marines getting ready to watch the Pats-Giants tilt at Camp Leatherneck in Afghanistan, and the Stoneforge patrons cheered enthusiastically for the best and bravest of our republic.

Seeing young Marines can put the importance of a football game in perspective. 

I do try to be mindful when one of my favorite teams loses in a championship game – that I am immensely fortunate and blessed to have so much going that is positive and happy, that I can afford to allow myself to get caught so up in a game – even if I am not even close to being a serious sports fan. 

Again, it is about perspective.  

And, about maybe now, for all of us Patriots fans, finding a distraction and place where we can redirect for a while the emotion we had channeled toward the team.

I think the Bruins can repeat. 


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