Dear Professional Sports,
I write to you today from inside my home on this beautiful day because I am too weary to do anything outside (well, it is als0 -3 out, and I need to break myself in after spending a week in 80 degree sun). I am physically weary because not only did I have to stomach watching my beloved Patriots lose to the Jets last night, I had to do it in Newark International Airport. Drowning my sorrows at the bar was not an option, since they were all filled with Jets fans; so instead I just roamed Terminal C like I had roamed Seven Mile Beach in Grand Cayman the entire preceeding week. Unfortunately, the eye candy in Hudson Books and so forth was not quite up to par. So, I just walked, and walked, with my hood up and my headphones on trying to avoid crying, punching the walls, or both…I managed to avoid tears, but I do have one or two bruised knuckles.
I am mentally weary because for the entire second half of last week, I thought of pretty much nothing but the Patriots Jets game. And yes, I realize that is only one of MANY reasons I don’t currently have a girlfriend. Then, to have them completely outclassed and end their season prematurely effing kills me, especially to the Jets. My point is, what is the point to caring so much? Thinking of the pain you have caused me recently – Bruins choking a 3-0 playoff lead AND 3-0 game 7 lead to Philly, Celtics up by 13 in game 7 against the Lakers and losing, Red Sox not even making the playoffs in 2010, and now last night…
Why do I care so much about you effing athletes, who don’t really give a crap about me. Something tells me Tom Brady, David Ortiz or Rajon Rondo weren’t too happy for me when I finished my graduate program last month. Most athletes on Boston sports teams are not actually from Boston, they are merely hired mercenaries. I want to break up with you so badly, but like the quote says, I can’t quit you…I just don’t know why…but then I watch clips like this one -
and this one -
And all is right with the world.
Tom David Rondo