A discussion with “post-season” implications
By Sean Hales
1-16-08

“I hate the Patriots,” my wife said. “I hate Tom Brady.”
Her comment was in response to my comment that all of the NFC teams playing in the NFL divisional playoffs last weekend were playing for second place, and she knew it was true.
My comment had even more impact because I said it after my team, the Green Bay Packers, had earned a berth in the NFC title game this weekend, and a shot at the Super Bowl, where they would no doubt face the New England Patriots.
My wife said she hated seeing the same team playing in and winning the Super Bowl every year.
I told her she had football ADD. I told her she doesn’t have the attention span for a football dynasty. I told her the Patriots’ story is the biggest sports story of the year, and any real fan of the sport is enthralled by the New England team’s historic season. I told her any real fan of the sport is mesmerized by Tom Brady, who is making a definite case for himself to become crowned “The Greatest Quarterback Who Has Ever Played.”
She told me to shut up.
I told her she’s just mad because her San Francisco 49ers couldn’t run or pass their way out of a wet cardboard box if their exorbitant paychecks depended on it.
She said they’re a young team and need to make a few changes, and before long they’ll be right in the post-season thick of things.
I asked her if she loves Alex Smith so much why doesn’t she marry him.
She said he hadn’t responded to her letters yet. She said it’s only a matter of time.
I said nothing. Any comment at that point was sure to be taken as an insult to Alex Smith’s intelligence, or worse, my wife’s attractiveness.
I said I hate hearing about how Dan Marino is “the greatest quarterback who ever played who never won the Super Bowl.”
She knew I was changing the topic on purpose and was leery about what I didn’t say about her letters to Alex Smith. She narrowed her left eye in suspicion.
I said to stop that. I said her face might freeze that way. I said Alex Smith was certainly not in the market for a woman with a permanent sneer.
Her right eye narrowed to a slit, too.
I said I think Dan Marino should get a job as Tom Brady’s personal assistant so he could get a ring this year and we could quit hearing about Dan Marino. I said Dan could be Alex Smith’s personal assistant, but that there’s no telling how long Dan has yet to live, and that the Super Bowl is only played once a year.
My wife said I was funny. But she was still sneering, so I don’t think she meant it. She said we were done watching football.
I asked her if she had an Alex Smith in her pocket because I was going to watch the Jaguars/Patriots game, so I didn’t know who else she meant when she said, “we” were done watching football.
She said I was about to find myself very cold and very lonely and that I would be smart to take a position at the kitchen sink and become actively engaged in cleaning anything that I found there.
I said that sounded like a good idea.
She said she thought it was, too.
I said I was glad we agreed on something. I said, thoughtfully, that although we may have different points of view on some things, we are like-minded on the important stuff.
She said, “Like you doing the dishes?”
“Yep,” I said. “Just like that.”