It's Sunday Bowl Sunday and the New England Patriots are playing last year's champions for the 2015 NFL title. Seattle's Legion of Boom have promised to shut down the Pats' stellar tight end, Le Gronk, and punished any receivers daring to cross their paths on the other side of the scrimmage line. The 'Hawks coach had spent several years at Foxboro Stadium before the owner got Bill Bellichek from the Jets. My home team has won three Superbowls in the 21st Century, but none since # 12 Tom Brady married supermodel Giselle. Few male New Englanders have mentioned this obvious curse, because Giselle was a Victoria Secrets lingerie model, although my niece is prays daily for the split-up of Brady family for different reasons.
She is in love with # 12.
He has perfect hair despite most of it being plugs.
This afternoon Courtney called to ask where I was watching the game.
The landlord of the Fort Green Observatory is watching the game with his eight year-old son, James, whom I have nicknamed 'Lucky Charm'.
Turning down chicken wings and beer on a couch is tough, however AP is not a real sports fan and both his son and I consider him a little unlucky.
Option # 2 is to sit at Frank's Lounge on Fulton, except the TVs in the Old School bar date back to the 80s and my eyes hurt trying to focus on the blurred images.
A third possibility would be Mullane's Sport Bar on Lafayette, if bearded Will was working there, but he was fired by the bald owner for being too scruffy.
Drinking at his new place of employ worked for me, until Will said that a neighborhood organization was having a soiree at Eats on Mrytle and added, "They have a DJ, so there's no sound on the TV."
"Damn, I like my spot there." I had watched both Patriots' victories at bar stool # 3.
Last choice is chez Neil R, a die-hard Yankees and Knicks fan. I'll be the only Patriot supporter at his house party and everyone will know it, because I'm wearing a Richard Seymour home jersey.
The sun is going down and I have to make a decision.
I hope it is the right one.