Raised a USAF dependent, a nomad of sorts, I settled down in the desert of New Mexico. With my wife, Renee and my two kids, Nolan and Layla, I pass the love and self-loathing curse to my family. The wife will be okay, she has the Pats and the Sooners, to which she goads my first-born, male heir into choosing a Patriots fan life. My son reluctantly pacifies his mother, wearing The Flying Elvis logo proudly, but on Sunday...
On Sunday, we Roar. On Sunday, we scream at the screen vulgarities and grunts and utterances. Some adult and some completely innate. But we share the same cheer, and while I do truly enjoy the prowess of Brady/Belichick more than most, it ain't in a Boston accent.
My daughter bleeds Honolulu Blue, and at less than 4 years old, knows more than most adults about the NFL and NCAA Football.
From time-to-time, on twitter I lose my sh*t, follow at your own risk. I've been known to build shrines to opposing teams rings-of-honor and burn them during games while naming off every respected figure and spitting on the ground.
I am a tolerant man, I have friends that are NYG, Dallas, SF, NE, MIA, GB, CHI, and worst of all, Steelers fans.
Don't take anything I say too seriously. My favorite part of sports is competition and smack-talking.