Tag Archives: sports

Tailgating: Forget Giving It the College Try

By the way, I'm not wearing the jersey because it wasn't a game day and that's the ONLY time it's acceptable to wear the lucky Tom Brady jersey. Superstition matters.
By the way, I’m not wearing the jersey because it wasn’t a game day and that’s the ONLY time it’s acceptable to wear the lucky Tom Brady jersey. Superstition matters.

If I’m going to pay hundreds of dollars to attend a sporting event and spend an entire day tailgating, I want it to be worthwhile.

Which is why I ONLY attend professional sporting events.

I know, I know. I hear everyone from the south grabbing their guns and coming after me to talk about the SEC and Alabama, LSU, Auburn, Ole Miss blah blah blah. Because COLLEGE FOOTBALL DAMMIT!!!!! But you know what? I’ll pass. All set. No thanks, pal.

Maybe it’s because I live in the Northeast, where college sports (especially college football) just matter less. Rooting for the BC Eagles and Umass just doesn’t do it for me, mainly because I have a pulse.

But it’s more than that.

Simply put, I enjoy seeing sports played by the most elite athletes at the highest levels. And in my experience, the fans who love the pros also seem to be the most professional tailgaters as well. Because a great tailgate can be just as delectable as a big win when the game is finished.

I’ve partnered with Lee Jeans and Mike & Mike from ESPN to ┬átalk about a whole host of issues related to sports and tailgating. Greeny and Golic have taken opposite sides of issues (naturally), and a bunch of us dad bloggers have been split up into teams (I’m Team Greeny) to talk about specific issues. Mine is Pro vs College.

Why would I pay any attention to college sports when I have seats 11 rows from the field to see the best in the business play week in and week out at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro? I get to see the best football mind in existence in Bill Belichick coach Tom Brady, the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time). I’ve seen my team win four Super Bowls in 14 years and become the gold standard organization in the NFL (despite those haters who would try to tear the Pats down with false allegations).

Although we don’t tailgate much anymore, every week we pass through the parking lot and are welcomed by the various Patriots tailgaters along the way.

The guys who bring homemade New England Clam CHOWDAH to every game. The group that can be seen making their own burgers from scratch (it’s all about using egg in the meat). And even the crazy bastards who hitch a homemade brick oven to the back of their truck and cook up fresh pizza for every home game.

The unwashed miscreants from the Golic camp will call everyone who doesn’t bow at the altar of college sports a communist while shouting ‘MURICA at them, but anyone with half a brain (those guys clearly excluded) will tell you watching elite professionals is always better than amateur hour.

Besides, I don’t like it when so much money and greed ruins sports — which is why I avoid college athletics.

LeeLogo_EST_1889And who better to get behind the concept of being a pro than the professionals at Lee Jeans, who have been outfitting fans for 125 years? Now that fall is here and the temperature is dropping, there is nothing better than heading to Gillette to watch the Patriots destroy another opponent while I’m wearing active comfort denim that keeps me as comfortable as Tom Brady in the pocket.

If you want to see how Team Greeny and Team Golic fared, head to the #LeeTailgate Twitter chat and figure out whose side you’re on (it better be mine).

And check out this awesome infographic with info on what Americans really think about all things tailgating.

Lee Partners with Mike & Mike_Infographic

Follow Lee Jeans on Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Disclosure: I have partnered with Life of Dad and Lee Jeans for this promotion. I have received compensation for my participation, but my thoughts are my own.

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Sports Rivalries: Why It’s Fun to Hate Other Teams

Me reacting to the last-second interception to seal the Patriots Super Bowl win over the Seahawks.
Me reacting to the last-second interception to seal the Patriots Super Bowl win over the Seahawks.

Loving my Boston sports teams isn’t enough. I need a rival to hate.

Look, I know it’s crazy. I know I’M crazy. When it comes to sports, I have issues because essentially I’m just rooting for laundry. But I don’t care. I don’t care that I place an unnatural significance on the outcome of professional sporting events played by millionaires who don’t care about me personally. Want to know why? Because it’s fun.

It’s fun to love a team you’ve inherited from your father who inherited it from his father. It’s fun to bond over that love, go to games, and dissect play calls like it actually matters what we think. It’s fun to have common ground and to celebrate victories while knowing you’re in good company after defeats.

But most of all, it’s fun to share a mutual hatred of hated rivals.

Being a Boston fan, I’m lucky to have no shortage of hated opponents in that department. As Boston Bruins fans we have no patience for those sniveling turds from Montreal. Growing up a Celtics fan, it was all about my favorite player, Larry Bird, and loathing Magic Johnson and the reviled slickness of the LA Lakers. As a lifelong Red Sox fan, it goes without saying my hatred for the pinstriped Yankees from New York knows no bounds, and 2004 was the ultimate purging of demons as the Red Sox completed the greatest comeback in sports history while the Yankees choked away a sure thing.

While I love all sports, football is my favorite to watch. And the Patriots are our beloved hometown team to which we swear fealty and pledge to defend against all enemies, foreign and domestic.


My father is entering his 44th year as a Patriots season ticket holder. I’ve been going to games since the age of 6 with my dad and brother, and soon my sons will join the club. With the arrival of Bill Belichick and Tom Brady 15 years ago came an unexpected string of good fortune, which transformed the Patriots from a laughingstock to a model organization and paragon of success, which means one thing — lots of haters came out of the woodwork. Thankfully, I give as good as I get.

Let’s start with the division rival New York Jets, who haven’t won squat since before men were able to walk on the moon. Yet these wretched souls are filled with hope every single year and they actually believe they have a chance, until Tom Brady and Bill Belichick put them in their rightful place. Also, this:

Then you have the Pittsburgh Steelers. Long the kings of the NFL decades ago, they were bested by the upstart 2001 Patriots and Hines Ward and company have been whining ever since. I had the pleasure of being at Heinz Field for the 2001 AFC Championship game, where smug Steelers fans taunted us mercilessly before the game. So when Brady, Bledsoe, Bruschi, Brown and the Patriots slapped them into stunned silence to advance to the Super Bowl, we danced on their lawn and sent the double freedom rockets into orbit.

And then you have the Indianapolis Colts. Sweet mother of crap do I hate the Indianapolis Colts.

It started in the early 2000s when Peyton Manning got all the credit and accolades, despite Tom Brady being the better quarterback. While Manning was racking up stats, Tom Brady did nothing but win with FAR less talent at his disposal. In the 2003 AFC Championship game, the Patriots intercepted Manning four times to advance to the Super Bowl. The following year in the playoffs, the Patriots held Manning to 3 measly points en route to another Super Bowl win.

And then, in 2013 when Manning was playing for the Broncos, Brady led the Patriots to overcome a 24-point deficit to beat “I don’t like the cold” Manning in overtime, prompting this celebration from my dad.


And now the Colts are led by Andrew Luck and a team of crybaby maggots who whined about deflated footballs that didn’t even factor into a 45-7 butt-whooping. I was wondering how I’d manage to hate Luck, who by all accounts is a nice guy and fantastic football player. But now I have my answer. They, along with the NFL, tried to catch the Patriots in a sting in an attempt to besmirch the greatest QB ever to grace a football field. Even though it didn’t work and a $5 million report came up with no hard evidence against our Lord and Savior Tom Brady, his name is still being dragged through the mud. And that will never be forgotten. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not on October 18, 2015, when Tom Brady travels to Indianapolis and once again crushes the spirits of Indy players and fans who dare oppose him.

In the end, I’m thankful for the rivalries. Rooting for the Patriots is awesome, but rooting against hated rivals and reveling in their defeat while dancing on their withered bones, is what makes it all worthwhile.

Smack Apparel, the official home of all collegiate and professional sports rivalries, realizes this and caters specifically to fans like me who enjoy irritating fans of other teams to no end. Their Smack Zone blog makes its inaugural debut today, focusing exclusively on sports passion and rivalries, because Smack has been assisting smack-talkers give as good as they get for nearly 20 years.

That’s why I’ve teamed up with Smack Apparel to offer a free t-shirt to a lucky recipient. You have to leave a comment here describing which teams/opposing fans you love to hate, and follow Smack Apparel on Twitter to win. You’ll receive a virtual gift card to buy a shirt of your choosing, just in time for the start of the season on Sept. 10 (when the defending champion Patriots kick off against the hated Pittsburgh Steelers).

Also, be sure to check out the #SmackZone Twitter party on Sept. 8 from 8-9 pm EST for more great prizes. So leave a comment here and that will automatically enter you in the drawing, which will be finalized later this week.



*I have partnered with Smack Apparel on this campaign and while I received compensation, all opinions expressed here are my own.

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My Son Hates Baseball


“Dad, I don’t think I like baseball and I don’t want to play anymore.”

Except for Will saying he doesn’t love me or that he’s become a New York sports fan, nothing uttered from my 6-year-old’s lips stings as much as my boy — my oldest son — telling me he doesn’t want to partake in America’s pastime. My father’s pastime. My pastime.

And the first thing that ran through my head was “How can I raise a kid who doesn’t like baseball?”

Continue reading My Son Hates Baseball

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Gender Matters: My Son Won’t Play with “Girl Toys”


“Will doesn’t care about Elsa from Frozen. He’s a boy and that’s girl stuff.”

That’s what a dad said to his daughter in front of my 5-year-old son recently. My son who, just a few days earlier, excitedly danced in his seat while watching Frozen in a movie theater accompanied by — gasp! — me. His dad. Yup, that’s right. A father and son trip to see an animated Disney musical about sisters, relationships, love, and sacrifice.

You know, total chick stuff.

Since this is someone we encounter on a fairly regular basis, I suppressed the dad blogger rage and accompanying vehement diatribe on gender equality that was desperately attempting to escape from my mouth. But I saw the confused (and slightly ashamed) look on my son’s face and it broke my heart, so I knew I had to say something.

“Actually, Will and I saw Frozen and we absolutely loved it. That movie is great and it’s for boys just as much as girls,” I said, choking down my anger. “Right buddy?”

But after hearing it labeled a “girl movie” and therefore unacceptable, all Will would offer at that point was a tepid “Well, it was OK.” Just OK. Three days ago it had been deemed “AWESOME!!!!!!”

And then it was my heart that broke.

Continue reading Gender Matters: My Son Won’t Play with “Girl Toys”

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The Patriots with Another Miracle Finish Against the Browns

Pat_Patriot_LogoIf it seems like I’m beginning to collect a library of unbelievable memories this season, it’s because I am.

First the Patriots pulled off a miraculous comeback win against the New Orleans Saints (my phone was dead so the video is someone else’s). Then they overcame a 24-0 deficit to beat Peyton Manning and the Broncos. And last night, I hit the trifecta as I was present for yet ANOTHER miracle finish.

With just more than two minutes to go in the game, the Patriots were trailing the Cleveland Browns by 12 points. And although the Patriots have pulled horseshoes out of their asses twice already this season, some fans just never learn because a bunch of people began to head for the exits.

Screw those morons.

Tom Brady led the Patriots down the field and scored a touchdown with a little more than a minute, and after the 2-point conversion it was a 5-point game. Thanks to a personal foul penalty on the touchdown, the Patriots ensuing onside kick was moved up 15 yards. But still, all the Browns had to do was recover it and the game would be over. Here’s what happened (NSFW due to my nervous swearing).

But even then, the Patriots had to go 40 yards in less than a minute with no timeouts. No easy task for sure, but this is Tom Brady we’re talking about.

After a couple of plays and an admittedly ticky-tack pass interference call in the end zone (hey, the Patriots were due for a call to go their way after getting robbed in the Jets and Panthers games), the Patriots found themselves with 1st and goal at the 1. Just one yard away from perhaps their biggest miracle to date.

Here’s the result (again, NSFW because of swearing).

The Patriots lost their most important offensive player next to Tom Brady in Rob Gronkowski, and I still don’t expect them to do anything much in the playoffs. But with all their injuries this year, I’m really proud of this Patriots team. And regardless of what happens, we’ve some some unbelievably special games this season.

And the best part is when I look back on these videos I’ll see a familiar pattern. The Patriots win, I scream like a maniac, and I immediately turn the camera toward my dad — the screaming maniac who taught me how to be a screaming maniac and also to ALWAYS stay until the end.

I can’t wait until my boys are filming me going nuts at Gillette Stadium one day.

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