I hope to God that the Patriots lose this Sunday. Not because I’ve placed any wagers like Chaplain Bethesda Clarke, but just because I despise them. Them and their smarmy assholery. Seeing them miss out on a perfect season by losing the very last game of which they’re heavily favored would make up for all of the annoying media coverage of their season I had to endure. I believe such an occurrence would be categorized as “delicious.”
I’m better informed about football events this year than in the past, simply because I take a daily dose of sports journalism like some people take a calcium pill. In 20 minutes, I feel like I can hold my head up high in the men’s room, able to tell apart my Eli Mannings from my Tom Bradys.
I even kept my ears open this year long enough to follow the betting track on the Super Bowl. Watch that line, Bethesda — I’d place my bet against the Pats if it gets over 14 again.
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