Writing and teaching and parenting aren’t the only things on my mind these days. My football team — The New York Giants — slogged through to another victory last night and are on the way to the Superbowl to face the fearsome Patriots. Living here in New England, but growing up in Southern Connecticut, I am constantly in conflict with the fans around me (Yankees, UConn Huskies, Giants — the trifecta) and those fans include my own kids (Red Sox, UMass, Patriots).
The Superbowl matchup makes for an interesting home and classroom (many of my students are avid Pats fans) for the next two weeks and I just hope my team doesn’t leave me humiliated on the Day After.
My sons are in sports glory — the Red Sox won, the Patriots are on the verge of an incredible season with only the Giants in the way, and the Boston Celtics are steamrolling everyone, too. I try to tell them, in my grumpy dad voice, that a year like this for a region only comes once in a blue moon and they should enjoy it for what it is and be prepared for those pitiful down years. They just nod their heads and acknowledge my voice. Ha.
Peace (in close games),