Football Fever is a Family Affair When the Giants Play the Pats

I married into a Boston family, which means that I am the in-law (or outlaw) who roots for the wrong sports teams. They say Red Sox, I say Yanks, they say Bruins, I say Rangers, they say Celtics, I say Knicks and, as far as football goes, they say Patriots and I say Giants (or in a pinch Jets because I love rooting against Boston teams).

No sooner had Billy Cundiff of the Ravens shanked that 32-yard field goal attempt to give the Patriots the win in the American Football Conference Championship game then one of my brothers-in-law called, ostensibly to speak with his sister. I knew it was actually to try to psych me out because the Giants-49'rs game had not yet started. Curiously, no one called when Tynes kicked the chip shot field goal to win the National Football Conference Championship for the Giants (it was after 10 pm so perhaps that explains it).

Part of being a fan is being willing "to put your money where your mouth is" and to bet on the big games. This is not to condone illegal gambling, but the sort of bets one places to preserve your pecking order in a family, which you may imagine, for me is pretty low among the Beacon Street crowd. 

My mother-in-law and I have a standing Yankee-Red Sox bet of a bottle of champagne to the season winner, with a doubling down if there is a playoff series between the teams. I have done well over the years, but in 2004 the Red Sox not only beat the Yankees after being three games down in the playoffs, but they won the World Series. At Thanksgiving I presented her with a bottle of Dom Perignon proclaiming it a special gift for "an event that occurs once every 86 years." Then they won again in 2007. 

Luckily, in 2008 the Giants beat the previously undefeated Pats in the Super Bowl and the proper balance was restored. The Yankees World Series win in 2010 sealed the deal, until this year.

I graciously and modestly accepted plaudits for the Giants regular season victory over the Pats, murmuring about what an honor it would be if the Giants could somehow end up in the Super Bowl against the Patriots lead by future Hall-of-Famers Brady and Bellichick. (Tom Brady and his model wife — model before she was a wife — Giselle, live on Beacon Street nearby, so it's always good to give props to the neighborhood guy). Actually, I planned for Eli and the G-Men to repeat their run from 2007 and pull off a series of upsets to once again put my team between Boston and destiny. This time it won't be an ambush. They know the Giants can beat the Patriots, who will be out for revenge, as will their fans. The next two weeks will be filled with trash talking and psych-outs as the fanbase gets ready for another battle between Boston and New York.

Oh I know my wife's family cares for me and wishes me well in every endeavor, except when I  root for New York teams. I wish them the same. However, on Super Bowl Sunday, as I attend an annual Super Bowl Party in Riverside and dutifully fill out the pool grids to guess the point totals throughout the game, the winner and margin and take the fiendishly clever and obscure Super Bowl trivia quiz devised by the host, my thoughts will be split between the game in Indianapolis and that bottle of bubbly chilling up in Boston with my name on it!

GO GIANTS!