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I usually talk with the proprietor of this fine website, Ian Logue, two or three times a week. Mostly, we just catch up on each other's busy lives or the latest happenings here at patsfans.com. Over the last five years, it would be impossible to quantify how many hours of his life he has put into this site and the team we all love, the New England Patriots. Some people choose to dedicate their lives to trying to find a cure for cancer or educating our youth. I suppose Ian has chosen this website as his contribution to the betterment of mankind.
I tell you this to set up my obligatory column for the last pre-season game against the Jacksonville Jaguars. Ian and I chatted on Wednesday afternoon. As it usually does, eventually the conversation turned to the Pats. "You going to watch the game tomorrow night?" I queried. "Is the game tommorrow night?" responded the truly surprised webmaster.
My sentiments exactly, Mr. Logue.
Is there a bigger farce and rip off in all of sports than the final pre-season game for a NFL team? I mean, the offensive and defensive starters didn't even see the field against the Jaguars for God's sake. I'm told the game was a gripping 0-0 well into the third quarter. And to think that they still charge full price for tickets, concessions, and parking to see this glorified scrimmage.
If you came here wanting a breakdown on whether Randall Gay looked like he was worthy of a practice squad spot, you've come to the wrong place. Rather, humor me as I share with you what I did on the night of the fourth pre-season game.
Our night started out with a trip to the Windsor Fair. If you live in Maine, you know that the annual agricultural fairs are a big deal. We don't have the Tweeter Center or the Boston Pops at Tanglewood up here. Nope. My annual fun consists of looking for the best deal on a blooming onion, painfully waiting out Mrs. Rousseau as she makes her annual pilgrimage to the petting zoo, or just wondering if being the men's room porter is indeed the worst job in the state of Maine (The "Remember, Tips Are My Only Pay" sign always makes you sheepishly fish into your pocket on the way out). To top off the fun, I made a cool $6 when Too Pooped To Pop won the eighth harness race of the day. As he crossed the finish line I screamed out in sheer joy "Apple cobbler is on me tonight, honey."
Having had our fill (literally) it was time to head home.
On the way home, I wearily tuned into Gino and Gil to see if anyone was hurt. That would be the only reason to care a bite of fried dough worth of what is going on down in Foxboro on this evening. Having heard that the starters didn't take the field, I breathed a sigh of relief and tuned over to the Sox.
If you actually sat through that root canal of a football game instead of watching this Sox team sweep the Angels, you have either not yet drunk the Kool Aid on this edition of the Old Towne Team or you are Rohan Davey's cousin. Either way, you missed out on the best sports entertainment value on television this Thursday night.
Next Thursday night, though, will be a completely different story. The hype will be huge as the NFL's season kicks off when the Pats take on the Colts. I probably will have a tough time sleeping the night before as I wonder what will happen to the Pats this season. Every season has its surprises and it never turns out the way you think it will.
On the contrary, the Windsor Fair is comfortably the same. It's one of those things that you do annually that helps you set your internal watch throughout your life. They'll be plenty of time for living and breathing all things Patriots during the next four months. But until next week, I'll be going to bed at night thinking of trifectas, candied apples and the Red Sox.
And even if you didn't tip your porter at the Windsor Fair, I would still like to hear from you. I can be reached at [email protected].
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