Saturday, September 13, 2014

A Little Background for Big Red

Big Red, you were not born a New Englander, and therefore a lifetime Patriots fan, but you married one, so close enough. The following essay, with apologies to Thomas Paine, might give you insight on how we True Blue Patriots fans feel when someone in the league, someone who should know better, picks against them.

THESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine Patriot fan will, in this league, shrink from the service of their Patriots; but he that stands by the Pats now, deserves the love and thanks of mankind. 
Betrayal, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as Loyalty should not be highly rated.
Yet the Betrayers seek out any mildly competent team to champion over our Pats. What have the Falcons done to enamor them so? Losing to the Dolphins? Choking at the end of games? Over depending on the pass? Winning one playoff game in the past 10 years? But somehow, the Patriot-Haters embrace its mediocrity, and doing so, become mediocre themselves. Eager for points, slaves to wins, they forsake their souls for a cheap and illusory reward. 
But no great deal is lost yet. All that the Broncos have been doing for this month past is rather a ravage than a conquest, which the spirit of the Patriots, a year ago, would have quickly repulsed, and which time and a little resolution will soon recover. 
The present season is worth an age, if rightly employed; but, if lost or neglected, the whole league will partake of the evil; and there is no punishment that man does not deserve that may be the means of sacrificing a pick so precious and useful. 
I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret opinion has ever been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a team, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of loss, by every decent method which wisdom could invent. 
Neither have I so much of the infidel in me, as to suppose that He has relinquished the justice of the world, and given us up to the care of devils; and as I do not, I cannot see on what grounds the Patriots-Haters can look up to heaven for help against us: a common murderer, a highwayman, or a house-breaker, has as good a pretense as he. 
'Tis surprising to see how rapidly a panic will sometimes run through a weak man’s mind. Yet panics, in some cases, have their uses; their peculiar advantage is, that they are the touchstones of hypocrisy, and bring cowards to light, who might otherwise have lain forever undiscovered. 
In fact, they have the same effect on secret traitors which an imaginary apparition would have upon a private murderer. They sift out the hidden thoughts of man, and hold them up in public to the world. Many a disguised Patriot picker has lately shown his head, that shall penitentially solemnize with curses the day on which the Pats face defeat and then triumph once again. 
Every Patriot-Hater is a coward; for servile, slavish, self-interested fear is the foundation of Patriot-Hating; and a man under such influence, though he may be cruel, never can be brave. 
It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the evil will reach you all. The heart that picks against the Patriots now is dead; the blood of his children will curse his cowardice, who shrinks back at a time when a little loyalty might have saved the whole, and made them happy. 
I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his Faith in the Patriots unto death. 
My own line of reasoning is as straight and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treasures of the world, so far as I believe, could have induced me to support a Patriots-Hating mode of life, for I think it murderous to my soul; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in it, and to "bind me in all cases whatsoever" to his absolute will, am I to suffer it? What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a relative or a friend; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done by an individual villain, or an army of them? 
If we reason to the root of things we shall find no difference; neither can any just cause be assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other. Let them call me rebel and welcome, I feel no concern from it; but I should suffer the misery of devils, were I to make a whore of my soul by swearing allegiance to one whose character is that of a sottish, stupid, stubborn, worthless, brutish man, the Patriot-Hater. I conceive likewise a horrid idea of a being who at the last day shall be shrieking to the rocks and mountains to cover him, and fleeing with terror from the fans, the bettors, and the faithful of New England. 
There are cases that cannot be overdone by language, and this is one. There are persons, too, who see not the full extent of the evil that threatens them; they solace themselves with hopes that if they succeed, their greater points will bring them solace. It is the madness of folly, to expect solace from those who have embraced disloyalty; the cunning of the fox is as murderous as the violence of the wolf, and we ought to guard equally against both.
They plead their case without shame; the Falcons were hungry, were invincible at home, were desperate for a win, were owners of a strong offense, were blessed with God on their side. The Pats had no receivers, they whimpered. They won close games, they could be 1-2. But ‘tis all for naught. They speak in fear; we shower the Patriots in love. Their fear leaves them empty, without recourse, but with only mouth honor. They move in trepidation, not emotion.
I thank God that I fear not. I see no real cause for fear. I know our situation well, and can see the way out of it. Once more we are again collected and collecting; our new team at both ends of the field is improving fast, and we shall be able to open the next game, well armed and well prepared. This is our situation, and who sees clearly knows it. By perseverance and fortitude we have the prospect of a glorious season; the Patriots-Hater, by cowardice and submission, the sad choice of a variety of evils- a ravaged conscience- a depopulated friend base- shall seek our mercy. But there will be none. They pick their course, they invite their doom.
Look on this picture and weep over it! And if there yet remains one thoughtless wretch who believes it not, let him suffer it unlamented.