Today was the last New England Patriots home game of the regular season, and quite possibly it was the last game for us as it seems unlikely we'll continue with our season tickets - but that's another story. Today's story was about how this game was going to be special. Since we had traded for extra tickets to take family to the Pats - Bears game last month, it was just Lori and I for today's finale. The Patriots have not been looking like the solid, playoff-ready, December team they've been in recent years, so I was really looking forward to them stepping up and blowing out the Houston Texans, which they did with a final score of 40 - 7. The surprise of the day was to see Lori blowing out as well - as in puking. Often.
You see, last night she attended a neighborhood "cookie swap" - which I've since learned is code for "playing quarters all night and getting totally cocked." Hell, I would have made some cookies had I known the code. When I brought her home at 2:30am this morning, I figured I'd be placing some calls around 10am for someone to replace her at the game, but she insisted she was good to go. On the way to the game she puked (this is only the second time I've ever seen her get sick) out the window of my truck while speeding down Rt 495 - a sight I've not seen since road trips at UMass. I was remarkably restrained despite just seeing someone puke all over my beloved Envoy, and I offered to turn around and head home. She decided to press on; such a hungover trooper that girl. Once we arrived at the stadium I was spotted by an old high school buddy and while we chatted Lori ran off to the bathroom to puke some more. I've never seen her in such rough shape. By the time she came out of the bathroom she wanted to just stay inside the clubhouse and sleep, but I convinced her to come sit outside and get some fresh air. Slumped in her seat with her head hung low, she looked more like a homeless person than the boisterous and lively football fan she is. She ran back inside for the bathroom a couple times in the first quarter. As the score mounted I knew we'd be leaving early. We left with 8 minutes to go in the first half. And she puked once more on the drive home for good luck.
I considered bringing a camera today since it might be our last game at Gillette, but I figured nothing photo-worthy would really happen. Boy, was I wrong. On the good side, it was the quickest I've ever gotten out of the stadium.