My son is just beginning to understand what happens on Sunday afternoons at our house.
From about 1 pm to 7:30 pm, the day is spent clogging arteries on the couch in between bathroom and occasional honey-do breaks. (That’s not to say that the day isn’t entirely unproductive; before kickoff we’re up and at it doing stuff that needs to be done for a guilt-free afternoon.) We’re a Patriots family. We’ve got the gear, and we wear it proudly. Our enthusiasm is backed up by the fact that we live in New England. Everywhere we go, we’re presented with Patriots gear reinforcing our fandom. Our son sees the Patriots all around him, and sees us rooting for them. My best guess is that he will end up a Pats fan. Now, of course, he can root for any team he wants, but it makes me think about what made me a Pats fan. I didn’t grow up in New England. I grew up in Upstate NY, so being a Patriots fan is okay with the proximity to New England, but that’s not the reason I’m a fan. It all started in 1985 when the Patriots were headed to the Super Bowl against the Chicago Bears. That year the Bears were unstoppable with a 15-1 regular season record and a roster full of future hall of fame guys like Mike Singletary, Jim McMahon, Walter Payton, and William “The Refrigerator” Perry. These guys were marketing gold. They were willing to do anything for publicity. Remember, this was the 80’s, and nothing was off limits. They even made a wildly popular and very bad rap video.
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