I missed my first Patriots home game in three years yesterday while attending the final performance of our rock opera, The Clowns. Don’t get me wrong. I couldn't have been more thrilled to see my work performed onstage, but missing the game was tough on me.
The fact that the Patriots lost their first regular season home game in almost three years made my absence infinitesimally more palatable.
But my friend and fellow Patriots season ticket owner, Shep, made no attempt to make me feel better about missing the game.
In fact, he actively tried to make me feel rotten about it.
Only after he was in the stadium did he divulge that his girlfriend, who was sitting in my seat, was a fan of the Giants, the Patriots’ opponent.
Had I known this earlier, I would never have given her my ticket, which I suspect Shep probably knew.
He also sent me texts and photos from the pre-game tailgate party, including this exchange of texts and photos which illustrates how my day went rather well:
Shep: Norwegians (friends of ours), ribs and cornbread in the parking lot.
Me: Men talking about Julie Andrews. Literally.