John Tlumacki/The Boston Globe via Getty Images
Let me be clear on one thing: I DO NOT EXPECT YOUR SYMPATHY.
Asking for compassion as a Patriots fan is like Jeff Bezos asking to split the dinner bill.
For two decades—thanks to nothing other than the geographic coordinates in which my parents decided to have sex—I have relished in a blissful fandom most Americans more deserving than I will never sniff.
This is not lost on me. I am grateful.
The only thing I ask is that you consider how you would feel if the two most iconic sports figures in your city decided to team up in a city whose fanbase largely believes the Waffle House parking lot is a viable wedding venue.
If that devastation is not immediately clear to you, allow me to help.
Tom Brady and Rob Gronkowski teaming up in Tampa Bay feels like learning your ex is dating someone with the same name as you but with a stronger jawline and a sound financial portfolio.
It feels like being forced to watch a Young Sheldon marathon with the in-laws while Peter grills you about lack of upward mobility in your career during the commercials.
It feels like Patrick Mahomes voice sounds.
It feels like that moment directly after you masturbated to your mom’s friend who is not even attractive but she gives you the impression she’s lonely and attainable and you’d entertain it in dire circumstances but then live with the unrelenting shame until she or your mother dies and you are free of this burden and can start the healing process.
It feels like biting into a Hot Pocket between 1 second and 48 minutes after it comes out of the microwave.
It feels like your wife just put you in a meat grinder to inherit all your money to start Big Cat Rescue while your family still searches for answers.
It feels like checking your credit card statement the morning you woke up with one shoe on.
It feels like when Nina Bertini said you looked like you were “slow” in eighth grade and eventually started her own successful and tasteful boutique to become the breadwinner in her beautiful, healthy family.
It feels probably like how you feel every year.
…Damn. #Perpective.
Sorry I wasted your time.