A few weeks before I landed in New York, a friend said he’d take me to a Jets game. Right there, I declared myself a Jets fan. When it became clear the Giants were the NY team to watch, I hopped on that bandwagon. When in Rome …
Last week, there was very little excitement for the local boys heading to the big game. Two people at the office were excited. Two couldn’t have been less excited. “Super Bowl Sunday is the best day to do anything else in New York,” one said. The other planned to watch “Titanic” and live tweet what was going on. The rest of us fell somewhere in the middle. I was excited for the Giants and happy to be part of the city. Although, I felt guilty about this since I was calling myself a Jets fan just four weeks ago. And truth be told, I’ve watched more Packers games than any other this season. Although the Minnesota Vikings are my first love.
I foolishly scheduled myself to be on a train during the first half of the game, but I kept a watch on the game on my phone. I was excited to take in New York when I got off at Penn Station, but I was taken aback at how quiet the city was. Sure, people were gathered around TVs in bars, but no one seemed rowdy. Of course, at that point the Giants were trailing the Patriots. I got home to find one roommate watching the game in our apartment. I dropped my bags in my room and came out to watch with him. We were pretty quiet, just watching. Talking occasionally. I told him how quiet the streets were. “That’ll change in an hour,” he said.
As the clock ran out and the Giants won, we looked at each other. We made an attempt at taking part in street rowdiness, but found none. I thought about this blog posting this morning, and kept an eye out for something that said “SUPER BOWL WIN” to illustrate the post. Other than a couple guys in NY hats, I found nothing. Nothing. For real. No Giants t-shirts for sale in Times Square. No banners on buildings. I guess the news ticker on the FOX building did mention the score.
This is why, as a rule, I root for the city most-starved for a championship. I want the winning city to bask in the afterglow. To savor every minute. To appreciate it. For New Yorkers, it’s another year, another trophy.
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.