Okay, that didn't play as expected. Two-time champs Patriots looked, from my perch, extremely mortal last night. Kevin Faulk carries a football like a pocketbook; Adam Vinatieri blew out his "clutch"; Tom Brady was no magic man on that intercept in the endzone, but didn't Ben Watson show what future superstars are made of, coming 150 yards diagonally to knock Champ Bailey out at the one -- and Daniel Graham's wondering why his playing time's gone down.
More than a quarter of the Murphy's Pub patrons, and slightly less than half, wore "official NFL" Patriots jerseys. 65 percent wore either Brady-12 or Bruschi-54; four or five wore Vinatieri-4 (all chicks [including companion Katie], as no straight guy'll wear a kicker's number -- especially one as pretty as Adam V.); there was one Seymour-93, a Bledsoe-11 -- no, two Bledsoes; although one was a strange looking, wirey dude wearing the throwback red w/#11 on it but no name (Hell, it could've been an homage to Tony Eason. In that case the guy's a froot!), a Tatutpu-30 (although Mosi never wore the blue in his day), and a Williams-99. My guess on the latter is the guy wearing it was named Williams.
Over-capacity crowd with some pushing & shoving, and a cop giving a stern lecture to me as one who, uhm, >ahem< pushed back a little too hard. Stouts, what can I say.
Spared the rest of the playoffs tieing up my daylight hours, I look forward to blowing off the Superbowl.
1 comment:
The horror. Oh, the horror.
Guess I will be teaching the little one how to say "one for the thumb."
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