Spangles: So this is where all the straight men go...

My first professional football game is not something I will soon forget. Because my first football game happened to be the much hyped Giants/Pats game wherein the Pats could achieve a perfect 16-0 (regular) season, being the first team to do so since 1972 when the Dolphins rocked out. But that was when the regular season was only 14 games. So they're less cool.

I happen to have an awesome coworker by the name of Erin whose family has had 6 season tickets, 30 rows off the field, for like, all of eternity. And she happened to offer them up to the office well before Christmas. Knowing only that I had several friends who love the Pats and that I had never been to a game, I thought, why the heck not? So miss Krazy Kate, my friend Sully, Sully's dad, and I made the venture out to the Jerz to watch football.

Now, I have been to my fair share of sporting events, even some professional sports. Basketball. Loads of baseball (ah the beloved Phillies). And I grew up on Penn State football, back when JoePa could still walk upright and see out of both of his eyes. ie, when the Nittany Lions were awesome. So it's not like I walked in there blind to the reality of sporting events. But none of my previous experience had prepared me for this night. Namely- an entire stadium filled with completely bombed men screaming their faces off for a bunch of other men in tight spandex jumping all over one another. Awesome.

We're talking intensity beyond intense. Insanity beyond insane. Drunkenness beyond McDrizzle. Oh, and did I mention that it was a ridonk game? In case you have been hiding under a rock somewhere and weren't watching or haven't heard- it was truly a great game of football. And the Giants came out with their game faces on, starting off with a touchdown in the first 4 minutes of play. Take that! The game continued, with the Giants up for the vast majority of it, until the fourth quarter. Really an anxiety-inducing experience if you're a Pats fan. Or so Sully told me afterwards. We were on our feet the whole time, watching one great play and one great record after another broken. I love America.

In other news, the guys behind us, one in particular, were some of those special kind of sports fans that only other sports fans can appreciate. Drunk and belligerently so. Yes my dear friend Sully and his dad had the audacity to be Pats fans in Giants stadium, but come on now, do we really all need to hear you belting at full volume, "I SH*T ON BOSTON!!" repeated over and over? And over. Because it was also impacting my ability to enjoy the game, I decided I would have a little conversation with this particular fan. In his beaver "fur" jacket. Brian was his name. There with his brother Gary too, though he was not so bellig. Did I mention that everyone we met was a pair of brothers? My furry friend Brian felt that my opinion was not legit because I had brought "these Pats vermin" into the stadium. It went a little something like this:
Brian: You're probably not even FROM New York!
Me: Well, I actually happen to live in Brooklyn
Brian (noticeably taken aback): Oh.... Let me see your license
Me: I have a PA license, but I do live in Brooklyn
Kate: Yes, she does
Brian (looking at Kate): Yea well I don't trust you. You probably don't even know anything about football. But I do trust this Liz girl. She looks trustworthy
Kate (to me): Hunny, it must be the Jesus thing
Me: Yes, it just radiates from me
Kate (also to me): And did he really just say that?
Brian (again to Kate): Yeah and you're definitely a dy*e too

*side bar*- 1) Kate is the biggest football gal I know. In that she still has season tickets to USC even though she lives in NY, and this year flew across the country to every home game save one. This is not a girl to whom you make such blasphemous accusations. 2) Kate is also the least dykey gal I know (is that a word? is that ok to say? should I edit that out?). It's almost laughable how absurd his statement was, if he knew Kate at all (which he didn't, obvi). Again with the blasphemy

Me: Dude, you need to just stop right now. You're offending everyone around you and it's just not cool
Brian: Alright alright Liz. Because you seem alright...
Me: Great, thanks

The remainder of the game was interspersed with nothing but loving drunken affection from my new BFF Brian. He was really really trying, with all his slurring might to get my number. And I led him on juuust enough to get him to be (relatively) calm. I love America.

Next to Brian and Gary were our (engaged and married) friends Frank and Bruce. Genuinely nice guys. Genuinely helpful as a barrier to all drunken men around us. And of course they were engaged/married. Girls don't let that kind of niceness stay single for long.

Final score? 38-35 Pats. All in all a great night. The Pats got their record. Correction- the Pats got their recordS. And the Giants gave them (and us) one heck of a game.