Tuesday Evening Sushi/Sake Love

I was not about to post a Sunday Morning Coffee Love, on account of the fact that my post was going to have a football flavor to it and I didn’t want to upset the delicate balance of the sporting fates by genuflecting on the maybe’s and what if’s before they went headlines. Especially seeing as how I got peeps on both sides of this battlefield.

Even though, I knew.

I knew the Patriots were going to end up in Minnesota because, well . . they’re the fucking Patriots and what would you expect. When the Jags were up by 10, my son texted me with “Are you watching this?” . . to which I replied simply “Wait,”. Because I’ve seen this movie before, and because as good as the Jags D was and as surprisingly effective as Blake Bortles was, they still play four quarters in the NFL. And you’re going to have to pry the championship from Tom Brady’s cold, dead hand. Because he only needs the one hand to get it done.

And later on, when the Vikings jumped out to a 7-0 lead in Philly, my Eagles pal texted me in horror with this one. “FUCK! We’re gonna blow it!!”. Eagles fans live and breathe worst case scenarios, so his rant was predictable enough. And so I replied in the same vein as I had hours earlier with my son. “Wait,”. Because as great a story as the Vikes were this season, I didn’t see another miracle happening. They were the perfect match up for Philly, and truth be told, I think Doug Pederson was kinda relieved they didn’t get New Orleans instead.

So we get us a Super Bowl rematch, thirteen years in the making. And if I had to bet money, I’m going with the Patriots. But if I had to bet based purely on heart and soul, it’s Philadelphia. And what makes this particular game so appealing to me is that I have two sides to cheer on. Not to mention, the history lover in me understands what a New England victory means. But an Eagles win? It would be sheer pandemonium, from Kensington to Upper Darby and all points in between. And outside of Pittsburgh, the celebration would run state wide . . until next football season.

No team might ever equal what the Patriots have already accomplished, not in my lifetime anyways. And I highly doubt there is a QB/Coach tandem out there that will dominate the next decade and a half the way Belichick and Brady have. The Patriots are the center of the sports universe.

The Eagles are South Philly and Rocky Balboa. They’re slumming it with football royalty and they don’t much care about the inhospitable reputation their fan base has gained over the last half century. A reputation they sure as hell deserve. But I’ll say this, seeing as how I have first hand knowledge of the situation. With Eagles fans, what you see is what you get. They wanted Andy Reid out because they insisted he wasn’t the guy to get them over the top. And while everyone- myself included- called them reactionary dunderheads, they happened to be right on. Because Andy Reid ain’t in Minnesota this week. Are they always right? Hells no! They criticized the Pederson hire two years ago, after all. But hey, that’s another thing I love. They may be wrong, but they are always certain.

Patriots fans are the new Yankees fans. They believe it’s their birthright to be rooting on their team in the biggest games. They’re more obnoxious than a Trump tweet, more entitled than Justin Bieber and more smug than Chris Matthews. And somehow they’re the more likable of two fandoms heading into the Twin Cities. Because as far as Eagles fans go, Minnesota will get to see what real Vikings look like, first hand, when these peeps hit town. Hide the women and children, grease the light poles (It doesn’t work!) and hurricane proof your businesses. The Midwest wouldn’t behave this way in the event of an apocalyptic event, so there’s that.

Basically, there’s no lesser to the two evils as far as these fans go. But that’s why Imma love it so. Because I get them. I relate to Patriots fans because I know what it feels like when people call my Yankees “The Evil Empire”. It’s fantastic! Because let’s face it, ain’t nobody hate the Oakland A’s. And Eagles fans? I get what it feels like to root on a football team that always teases you with promise in the fall before vomiting all over your hopes and dreams come winter.

And so I have two songs for two cities, in keeping with fans I know and love and the teams whose histories couldn’t be more different. Because maybe the Patriots are going to give us more of the same. Because maybe the Eagles are going to show the champs that the Northeast cauldron has their number, again. Because maybe I’m the only NFL fan wishing both teams could win.

Because why not?

For the Champs! . . . 


And for those miscreants down the turnpike . . .