Disappointed? Please…

I’m a football fan, but most of you already know that. I’m also a huge Patriots fan, and have been ever since I can remember. I can honestly take or leave the other local teams but I’ve stood behind the Pats, win or lose, for over 40 years. If you’re not a sports fan you probably won’t get this post at all, if you are, you will.

As you may have guessed, I spent Sunday Night watching the “Big Game” (no copywrite infringement here sir). It was a little like déjà vu. I watched the same two teams essentially play the same game with the same result as four years ago. The difference was me. I’m a different person.

In 2008 I was a typical Pats fan. It took me a couple of days to get over the loss in the Big Game. This year I got up from my seat, walked into the kitchen and started putting stuff away. By the time I was done I was over it. I’ve written about perspective before. I received a heaping dose of it in between these two games.

For a while Sunday, in the first half I was on the edge of my seat, almost the same way I was in 2008. I had that fan anticipation that I guess is really why we watch sports. It’s something to care about and invest a little passion in that really doesn’t matter a whole lot in the grand scheme of your life. At half time I took my dog for a walk.

As I walked down towards the end of my street I noticed an unusual sound, helicopter rotors. When I cleared the end of the street and could see down the main road towards the highway the pitch of one of the copters changed. I looked and could see the landing lights descending. “Medflight” I thought immediately. It’s amazing how fast my mind can make that connection now.

I surmised, correctly, that a serious accident had occurred on the highway just a mile or so from my house. When I made it to the end of our walk and doubled back I could see where the flashing red lights were, one exit down. I said a little prayer, to Kev I guess, asking him to help out whoever might be needing it just down the street from our home.

My mood really changed when I got back home. It’s just one of those things that brings everything back. I watched the rest of the game, interested, but not with the rapt attention of the true fanatic anymore, I was detached. When the game was over I checked out a couple of local news web sites and discovered that the crash was a rollover, one fatality, one Medflight. There was a pit in my stomach and it took me quite a while to get to sleep that night.

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About garbear25

I'm a sad dad.
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