I've kept it on a low burn this week. Until last night at 11:00.
As I rose to head bedward the news came on and the lead story was THE PATS. I sat back down and consumed it.
It was all predictable stuff but I am such a football freak that I thrill just to see football footage, to see PATS uniforms and helmets, to see Tom Brady's pretty boy face plastered on the screen making the rehearsed comments we have all come to expect from PATS players.
By way of comparison my excitement became gritty and grounded to see Vince Wilfork's face and massive body on the screen making the rehearsed comments we have all come to expect from PATS players.
Where the hell do they get sweatshirts big enough to fit him?
One game away from the Super Bowl is one game away from the ultimate definition of and expression of intensity. Could be a step towards another shot at sweet vindication, achievement, over the top emotion and chest bursting pride. Another chapter written in eternal football history and lore. Could be the end of the road and a crushing of hope and emotion that stings for months.
We have had it both ways. At this point and in the Super Bowl.
The machine is humming now. Nothing I can do.
It feels good.