Thanksgiving for most people means eating a whole lot of food with relatives you may or may not want to see. But in my family, Thanksgiving means football, and by that I mean more football than usual. We start off the day watching the pre-game show, usually yelling at the TV when we disagree with the announcers, throwing the ball around before the game, and watching whatever games are on and getting irrationally invested in each one. Exposing our competitive natures, Thanksgiving dinner is typically only served after we finish our game of football in the backyard, where the winners get to go first in the dessert line.
Now, the sad thing, this is not out of the ordinary. When I was still living at home, this was the format of most Sundays. Before I would go to church in the morning, I would wake up to find that my mom had already started preparing whatever munchies we would be having during the football game, ranging from pigs in a blanket, to pizza bites, to chips and dip. My dad would try to finish whatever work he had to do so he could join in the fun. I would do all of my homework on Saturday evening so that I would be able to have Sunday to watch any and every game that was on TV. Nothing mattered more than the Patriots game, of course, so naturally I changed straight from my Sunday best into my Patriots Jersey, Patriots Pants, Patriots bow, and basically whatever other Patriots gear I owned. We lived for game day, and every Sunday, without fail, we spent together, watching our boys win together and lose together, and feeling for them either way the game turned. It is as if the team itself becomes a part of our family, because you spend at least 3 hours of every week “with them.” And it has been this way for as long as I can remember (it’s no coincidence that my first memory is the 2000 Super Bowl when Brady went in for Bledsoe).
Not only would we watch the games, but we would do crazy things to show our support. I can’t count the times my mom, brother, and I stood outside Gillette Stadium for hours in sub-zero temperatures just to go to a pep rally for the team. My mom and I are constantly sending each other pictures of new Patriots tee-shirts that we could purchase to show our Patriots pride everywhere we go (my friends at my small liberal arts school in the middle of Pennsylvania really appreciate that).
People always ask me why I am so into football. And the answer is simple. To me, it is more than just a game. It is giving absolutely everything to your team, because they are just a much a part of you as you are of them. It is spending all Sunday every Sunday laughing with my parents as we yell at the TV. It is something more than the NFL.
Football is Family. And it always will be.
