My name is Troll-So-Hard University, and I’m a fan of the New York Football Jets.  Well, I used to be a fan of the Jets, until I sat down and wrote my Top 5 moments in my history of being a Jets fan:

1. Halftime of the 1998 AFC Championship Game

2. Halftime of the 2009 AFC Championship Game

3.  End of 2009 AFC Divisional Playoff Game (Jets v. Patriots)

4. End of Super Bowl XLII

5. End of Super Bowl XLVI

This is a sad sad list.  If you’re counting, there’s only one game on that list that was actually a Jets victory, and there’s two games on that list that don’t even involve the Jets.  I’ve spent 28 of my 36 years of life in the New York Metro Area, but at this point, my football fandom has been reduced to (1) rooting for my fantasy players; and  (2) rooting for the Patriots to lose.

I hate the Patriots. I hate their stupid tri-corner hat wearing pedophile mascot.  I hate their loud mouth bandwagon fans who didn’t even give a shit about them until sometime between 1995 and 2001.  I hate their pretty boy, afraid of contact quarterback, and I hate, I hate, I FUCKING HATE their evil scum-sucking coach who left the Jets at the altar with nothing in their hands but their dicks and Al Groh.

They say that there’s no funnier comedian than the Universe, which is why a few months ago my wife was offered a job that she couldn’t turn down at a university just outside Boston:

On May 29th, the Rangers lost in Game 7 of the NHL Eastern Conference Finals (fuck you, hockey rules).  The very next morning, I packed a truck full of our belongings and headed straight to the heart of Red Sawx Nation.  It was without a a doubt, the worst 24 hours in my life as a sports fan.

Within one week of arriving, my car, which still had New York tags was greeted with this:

I haven’t yet gone out on the town with my Yankees/Jets/Rangers gear, though I’m pretty sure that I might be subject to this type of behavior.

To be fair, if I wore an A-Rod jersey, I’d probably punch myself in the mouth.

A couple of weeks ago, I was wandering around aimlessly and found myself on Yawkey Way right around game time where I spotted this enterprising salesman:

This nice man even offered to take my “fahkin pictyah” with his banner:

You might be thinking that the keying could be a coincidence and you might be right.  You might even think that the Fenway crowd might be an extreme example of sports jingoism.  You might be right about that.  But this is what I saw selling fairly well at Qunicy (quihn-ZEE) Market:

This t-shirt is also well represented amongst locals:

So far, my impression of the cultural zeitgiest of Patriot nation right now is one of deep self-deception about their perceived victimization.  In that respect, they behave eerily similar to how Christians behave when they’re “oppressed for their beliefs.”  THEY JAHST CAN’T TAKE  HOW GOOD WE AHH. THEY JUST WAHNNA BRING AHS DOWN! THEYAH’S NO CAWNCRETE PROOOF THAT BRADY/PRIEST ACCUSED OF MOLESTATION DID ANYTHING! YOWAH JUST JEALOUS THAT GAWD LOVES AHS!”  Everyone I’ve talked to justifies Brady tampering with the balls as something that everyone else does, “so why the fack ahh they coming down so hahd on Tawmmy?”  Which is the equivalent of telling a judge that you shouldn’t be found guilty of a speeding ticket because the cop didn’t pull over the other guy who was also speeding.

As you might know, I’m an attorney by trade.  And as an attorney, I’m horrified by the NFL and Roger Goodell’s abuse of process with regard to Ballghazi. And I support the NFLPA, who really needs to start getting some wins so that they can properly protect their members from the huge risk of injury and bankruptcy that they face just by playing.  But, I’m still a Jets fan. And even though my expectations are so low that I hardly even root out loud for them, I still hope that they ban Brady for life.

I’ll be checking in here most weeks to report back on life as a Jets fan in Boston.  Until then, please pray that I am not murdered.