The Patriots won, anyway.
So, this week, I do not wear any team gear to school ... and everyone else does. What ... the ... hell.
I decide to leave the Patriots jersey at home on a chair, instead. I leave it there all weekend. I don't even wear it for Sunday's game because I'm trying to prove a point to the secretary and maybe even to myself.
It's not my team spirit nor the breaking of superstitions (no matter how innocently done) nor the number of steps I take between the kitchen and the television set in the living room nor the food I eat during the game that helps me make this decision.
Honestly?
I decide to stay indoors all day Sunday and kick around in flannel pants and a sweatshirt. I spend the day prepping food to eat while watching the Green Bay-Seattle game and the Colts-Patriots game. When the Pats' game time arrives, I debate getting the shirt, but I'm still kind of pissed about what was said to me last week. And I'm too lazy to change again. And ... I'm not superstitious.
I decide before today's game to save the shirt for the Superbowl. That's right. I don't bow to superstition or to breaking superstition. I just figure if the shirt is going to live to see one more day, I'll be overly confident and wait two more weeks.
The Patriots win, anyway.
That's right. The Patriots win the AFC championship game despite my refusal to wear the shirt. I'm not superstitious ... nope .... I'm not ... not ... not going to move that shirt from where it is until the Superbowl. That's right, I'm not changing anything about it until it's time. Because I'm not superstitious ... much.
Go, Patriots!
