I never really considered myself a, dare I say it, stranger in a strange land until a few years ago. While horseback riders have always been rare at GA and not everyone walking around is as obsessed with school work as I am, I never once felt remotely out of place. I will admit that being one the few people who spends the majority of their free time in the Student Publications Room, more commonly known as the Pub Room, can be fairly isolating. Nevertheless, there were others like me. However, that all changed when I succumbed to the temptation of football and, almost literally, fell in love with the New England Patriots.
From all early reports it appeared that Bruschi’s long and successful football career had ended when he was only 32 years old. However, in the months that followed, he, with his team rallied behind him, achieved one of the greatest comebacks in sports history when he returned to the game on October 29, 2005. That day, Bruschi received a standing ovation, and his renewed fervor and focus allowed the Patriots to overcome the Buffalo Bills via two late touchdowns. In essence, his return solidified the shaky start to the 2005-2006 season. I believe the whole Patriots nation breathed a collective sight of relief as they watched Bruschi not only survive the game, but dominate it. This, and other similar stories, is what makes the Pats the greatest team in the NFL.
Needless to say, my unapologetic support for the Pats doesn’t endear me to football fans at my school, especially since it's in the middle of Eagles’ country. It is an extremely isolating feeling to walk through a hallway of forest green in a navy jersey. After multiple years of hearing boos and insulting remarks about my team in the hallway whenever I sport a Pats jersey I have become immune to the animosity. After all, nobody ever says anything that I haven’t heard a million times before.
The discovery that a member of the Pats staff was videotaping the signals made by the defensive coach during their first game against the Jets did little to improve my standing among my peers. As the so-called Spygate scandal expanded, growing as rapidly and profusely as a mint plant in nutrient rich soil, my world seemed to tremble for a moment as cracks formed in its foundation. Was everything I had ever stood for true? How far had Bill Belichick gone to win? Yes, I didn’t love the man, but would he knowingly cheat to create a dynasty? I am ashamed to disclose that these thoughts swirled around my head like a carousel in the weeks following the Week One. Despite my many questions about the management’s actions, I never once doubted the integrity of the Pats players. To me, in spite of everything, Bill Belichick remained the genius who had orchestrated my team’s improbable rise to glory from literally nothing. I chose to accept his explanation concerning the making of the tapes at face value and readied myself for the remaining part of the season.
Of course, the scandal didn’t end there. Not at all. While I was making my peace with Belichick and the NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell was determining the extent of the issue, wild speculations continued to fly. It seemed that every day new teams were declaring the Pats had beaten them because their signals had been videotaped. Naturally, the Eagles were one of those teams. Though the players had never before even dared whisper of a possible conspiracy, they now loudly proclaimed that they had been robbed of their Superbowl - Donovan McNabb the loudest of them all. As my friends and teachers, particularly Mr. Martin, gleefully asserted that the Eagles had only lost because the Pats had cheated, I couldn’t help but shake my head in wonder. Their stubborn refusal to accept that their team had lost in 2005 was comical. No matter what words proceeded from Donovan McNabb’s mouth, the allegations couldn’t change the past. It was only a sad attempt to distract the fans from the fact that their team was playing incredibly poorly that year. Yet, I was the only one who seemed to realize this.
The 2007 season was probably the most difficult for all members of Pats nation, especially for me. Not only had our head coach thrown every past AFC championship and Superbowl into doubt, but he had completely destroyed the league’s already shaky respect for our team just to beat Eric Mangini, his old nemesis and former protégé. As the season continued, however, we recovered. While each subsequent win returned my faith and those of my fellow fans, those of the NFL’s other teams, regardless of division, became increasingly hostile. My favorite Eagles fans were no different.
Before each game I was subjected to terrible criticisms of the players that I adored. Accusations of cheating aside, I was still treated to the traditional, “The Patriots Stink,” comments and the inevitable outraged, “how can you even think to support the Patriots? What about the Eagles?” questions. Even my friends joined the fray when the Pats reached the Superbowl. Those who didn’t even care a whit about football suddenly declared their allegiance to the Giants, never mind that they are division rivals of the Eagles. It was then that I fully recognized the extent of the hatred of Eagles fans for my beloved team. Until Superbowl XLII I had just attributed the derogatory comments to jealousy. After all, how many times had the Eagles reached the NFC championship, let alone the Superbowl, in recent years? The pats may have lost to the Giants in Superbowl XLII, but their perfect regular season and easy domination over each their opponents added to their reputation for remarkable ability and perseverance.
It’s been strange to see how much football has detached me from my family. Never mind that my dad and brother are supposed to be Pats fans, and my mom, well, she’s not really a sports fan. She’s the type that, if her team is playing when she enters the room, will mutter a quick, “Go Redskins,” and then skedaddle. To say that she’s a “fair weather fan” doesn’t cover it. Whenever the Pats play a game now, it feels like I’m the only one in the room cheering for our defense/offense and jeering the opposing team. What really bothers me though, is that my dad is allowed to get angry at the opposing team and mumble obscenities under his breath whenever the Red Sox are losing, especially to the Yankees, but I’m not even permitted one “Damn you.” Talk about double standards. Of course, my brother mimics my dad’s behavior perfectly when it comes to baseball because he’s a little Red Sox zealot in the making. From first hand experience I can say that Christian fundamentalists have nothing on Red Sox fans.
My entrance into the world of sports fans has only confirmed my previous assumptions about their illogical conduct towards their teams and their rivals. However, while I may not be your typical rabid Pats fan, my admiration and love for the team will last far longer than any zealotry because of the reasoning behind them. I guess what it ultimately boils down to isn’t how many Superbowls or championships my team has won - though I will admit the numerous ones the Pats have won are nice - but the quality of my team’s players and how respected they are throughout the football world. Many coaches and experts may dislike Belichick for his skirting of the rules, but they all admit, albeit grudgingly, to the fact that Brady is one of the greatest quarterbacks in the history of the game. Though my team affiliation has left me a stranger in a strange land, particularly when the Pats played the Eagles in Superbowl XXXIX and the words, “The Patriots suck,” seemed to stick to me in the hallway, I still love the team and its brilliant players with a unique understanding for the mechanics of America’s game.
GO PATRIOTS!!
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I became the biggest football fan in my family, though I believe it was around five years ago. I had always avoided football, and pretty much every other professional sport, on principle because I found the zeal of all sports fans disturbing - if you know any Red Sox fans you’ll understand why - and impractical. I don’t approve of sports rivalries in general, after years of dealing with, first, my father’s obsessive hatred of the Yankees, and then my brother’s. There were much more important things happening in the world than whether the Phillies beat the Mets or the Red Sox beat the Yankees. This feeling soon gave way, like a pile of flour when water is added, before the charm and obvious ability of the New England team. 
I wish I could explain my insane attraction to the Patriots; it certainly isn’t because of Bill Belichick’s appealing on-field style or his charming personality. I will acknowledge that it partly stems from the presence of Tom Brady. Despite Brady’s incredible handsomeness and masterful ability for understanding the mechanics of football, there were always deeper reasons. One of those, perhaps why I truly love the team, is the fact that the Patriots are a team of strong individuals with inspirational stories. I still remember hearing the news of Tedy Bruschi’s stroke only a few days after the Pats had won their third Superbowl in four years. At that moment it felt as if my entire existence stood still for a few seconds. To me, and probably to every other Patriots fan, it was even more shocking because we had just watched our defense led by Bruschi successfully prevent the Philadelphia Eagles from winning their first championship game in several years. Interestingly, our neighbors had a Superbowl Party that day and the cheers and boos formed a chorus worthy round.
From all early reports it appeared that Bruschi’s long and successful football career had ended when he was only 32 years old. However, in the months that followed, he, with his team rallied behind him, achieved one of the greatest comebacks in sports history when he returned to the game on October 29, 2005. That day, Bruschi received a standing ovation, and his renewed fervor and focus allowed the Patriots to overcome the Buffalo Bills via two late touchdowns. In essence, his return solidified the shaky start to the 2005-2006 season. I believe the whole Patriots nation breathed a collective sight of relief as they watched Bruschi not only survive the game, but dominate it. This, and other similar stories, is what makes the Pats the greatest team in the NFL.
The discovery that a member of the Pats staff was videotaping the signals made by the defensive coach during their first game against the Jets did little to improve my standing among my peers. As the so-called Spygate scandal expanded, growing as rapidly and profusely as a mint plant in nutrient rich soil, my world seemed to tremble for a moment as cracks formed in its foundation. Was everything I had ever stood for true? How far had Bill Belichick gone to win? Yes, I didn’t love the man, but would he knowingly cheat to create a dynasty? I am ashamed to disclose that these thoughts swirled around my head like a carousel in the weeks following the Week One. Despite my many questions about the management’s actions, I never once doubted the integrity of the Pats players. To me, in spite of everything, Bill Belichick remained the genius who had orchestrated my team’s improbable rise to glory from literally nothing. I chose to accept his explanation concerning the making of the tapes at face value and readied myself for the remaining part of the season.
Of course, the scandal didn’t end there. Not at all. While I was making my peace with Belichick and the NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell was determining the extent of the issue, wild speculations continued to fly. It seemed that every day new teams were declaring the Pats had beaten them because their signals had been videotaped. Naturally, the Eagles were one of those teams. Though the players had never before even dared whisper of a possible conspiracy, they now loudly proclaimed that they had been robbed of their Superbowl - Donovan McNabb the loudest of them all. As my friends and teachers, particularly Mr. Martin, gleefully asserted that the Eagles had only lost because the Pats had cheated, I couldn’t help but shake my head in wonder. Their stubborn refusal to accept that their team had lost in 2005 was comical. No matter what words proceeded from Donovan McNabb’s mouth, the allegations couldn’t change the past. It was only a sad attempt to distract the fans from the fact that their team was playing incredibly poorly that year. Yet, I was the only one who seemed to realize this.
The 2007 season was probably the most difficult for all members of Pats nation, especially for me. Not only had our head coach thrown every past AFC championship and Superbowl into doubt, but he had completely destroyed the league’s already shaky respect for our team just to beat Eric Mangini, his old nemesis and former protégé. As the season continued, however, we recovered. While each subsequent win returned my faith and those of my fellow fans, those of the NFL’s other teams, regardless of division, became increasingly hostile. My favorite Eagles fans were no different.
Before each game I was subjected to terrible criticisms of the players that I adored. Accusations of cheating aside, I was still treated to the traditional, “The Patriots Stink,” comments and the inevitable outraged, “how can you even think to support the Patriots? What about the Eagles?” questions. Even my friends joined the fray when the Pats reached the Superbowl. Those who didn’t even care a whit about football suddenly declared their allegiance to the Giants, never mind that they are division rivals of the Eagles. It was then that I fully recognized the extent of the hatred of Eagles fans for my beloved team. Until Superbowl XLII I had just attributed the derogatory comments to jealousy. After all, how many times had the Eagles reached the NFC championship, let alone the Superbowl, in recent years? The pats may have lost to the Giants in Superbowl XLII, but their perfect regular season and easy domination over each their opponents added to their reputation for remarkable ability and perseverance.
It’s been strange to see how much football has detached me from my family. Never mind that my dad and brother are supposed to be Pats fans, and my mom, well, she’s not really a sports fan. She’s the type that, if her team is playing when she enters the room, will mutter a quick, “Go Redskins,” and then skedaddle. To say that she’s a “fair weather fan” doesn’t cover it. Whenever the Pats play a game now, it feels like I’m the only one in the room cheering for our defense/offense and jeering the opposing team. What really bothers me though, is that my dad is allowed to get angry at the opposing team and mumble obscenities under his breath whenever the Red Sox are losing, especially to the Yankees, but I’m not even permitted one “Damn you.” Talk about double standards. Of course, my brother mimics my dad’s behavior perfectly when it comes to baseball because he’s a little Red Sox zealot in the making. From first hand experience I can say that Christian fundamentalists have nothing on Red Sox fans.
My entrance into the world of sports fans has only confirmed my previous assumptions about their illogical conduct towards their teams and their rivals. However, while I may not be your typical rabid Pats fan, my admiration and love for the team will last far longer than any zealotry because of the reasoning behind them. I guess what it ultimately boils down to isn’t how many Superbowls or championships my team has won - though I will admit the numerous ones the Pats have won are nice - but the quality of my team’s players and how respected they are throughout the football world. Many coaches and experts may dislike Belichick for his skirting of the rules, but they all admit, albeit grudgingly, to the fact that Brady is one of the greatest quarterbacks in the history of the game. Though my team affiliation has left me a stranger in a strange land, particularly when the Pats played the Eagles in Superbowl XXXIX and the words, “The Patriots suck,” seemed to stick to me in the hallway, I still love the team and its brilliant players with a unique understanding for the mechanics of America’s game.
GO PATRIOTS!!
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