There are children almost one entire year old who have never seen the Patriots win a Super Bowl. Imagine that. Almost a full year. Almost enough time to talk! A mere 17 more of those years and those babies could vote! I legitimately have no idea how these babies lasted this long. I would have given up months ago. I give Pats fans a lot of crap, but to stick with this team during such a long time really takes dedication. These guys have seen the pit of despair.

I ran into a Patriots baby the other day. It couldn’t even walk. According to the mother who was very annoyed I kept asking her baby questions, the baby was born on Feb 14th. A mere week or so after the greatest Super Bowl comeback in history occurred. This baby didn’t witness it. How could that feel? Knowing you were born too late to see such an amazing comeback? To see the 28-3 memes but not truly experience them? That has to hurt so much. That is the kind of pain you can’t train for. You can’t prepare yourself for the knowledge that your team stunned the world and you were too late to see it. That baby’s entire experience was stuck in a gross goopy cave tied to a placenta, slurping down the leftover nutrients from the clam chowdah the mom was eating during the game. That’s just sad. The baby didn’t even get to have a buzz, because the mom couldn’t drink any Sam Adams due to the pregnancy. That baby has been living with the guilt of knowing that because it exists, its mom couldn’t have a drink during the best game of her life. That kind of shit wears on you, like a diaper that just keeps filling up without getting changed.

I wonder where that baby is now. I wonder how happy that baby is. I’m sure if that baby could talk, it would tell me that Tom Brady is the goat and that I should jump off a bridge. I wouldn’t even be mad, because after this long year? That baby deserves all the trash talk it can give. It’s earned the right to poop itself in my direction. You do you, baby. God willing you will get to see a championship before you learn how to speak.