Tom Brady, I Ask You Why

 I am a huge New England Patriots fan. Yes, I live just twenty minutes from New York, so I should be a Jets or a Giants fan, along with the majority of the people here, but I am not. I became a Patriots fan when I was eight years old, and after that there was no going back.

 Yesterday the Patriots and the Jets played in the playoffs, and by the end of the fourth quarter, I sat in fetal position, while the Jets fan I watched the game with jumped around the room. It never should have been like that. The Patriots should have had the game in the bag, but they left me heartbroken with a final score of 28-21.

 It's funny, really. I am one of the five or so Patriots fans in my grade, and I realized just how much trouble I made for myself when my phone started buzzing with text messages from jubilant Jets fans after the game. I didn't have school today because of Martin Luther King Day, but I mentally prepared myself for tomorrow. I guess I deserve it though. When the Patriots played the Jets on December 6 and won 45-3, I wasn't exactly the best sport. No, instead I ran around sticking out my tongue and doing little jigs. Bring it on, Jets fans. I deserve it.