I just came back from my first live NFL game.
My first playoff game. Patriots vs Titans in Foxboro. Possibly quarterback Tom Brady’s last game at home as a Patriot (the greatest of all time).
And after 3 hours of action, 3 hours of driving, and 4 hours of waiting around before the game, the most memorable part, was an obnoxiously loud fan.
From the very first time he sat down behind me, he started screaming. He’s passionate. He’s loud. Ear-splitting loud. Non-stop. All game. I almost wanted to change seats.
Luckily I didn’t.
Shivering in the cold air, surrounded by mist, he tapped me on the shoulder and offered his blanket to help keep me warm. I politely declined, but he insisted, with a gentle look in his eyes.
I wanted to take him up on the offer, but my pride stopped me.
A half-an-hour later, I started wiping all the rain that fell on the seat next to me, so my friend could sit down. He noticed, and again politely offered his blanket. This time to my friend, so he could sit down on it and stay dry.
My friend, much wiser than me, graciously accepted. The passionate fan looked truly happy.
Thanks for caring!