Surviving Turkey Day with Patriots Fans
In the Fernandez casa, it’s Cowboys football all day, all the time. As a kid, my mom would let us watch little TV and we could read as much as we wanted. My dad traveled a lot with his job, so Sundays were the only time he was home. Ever wonder how I know so much about football? The only time I could watch TV in long spurts is if Dad was home and the ‘Boys were on.
Don’t even ask how I managed to become a Packers fan. I prefer to think of it as I’ve been a clash of good girl and rebel since the day I was born. So I peppered him with questions because my dad was my idol and he could lift strong things.
Our Thanksgiving usually involved my Cuban grandparents driving the hour to my parents house and my abuelito, dad and me settling in to watch the Cowboys game. We never had formal dinners, and it normally revolved around what time the ‘Boys were on. We didn’t need to put on a show. As long as our family was together and the Cowboys won, everyone was happy. Around age 7, I really gripped into my Packers fandom, so dinner revolved around both games.
This year will be different.
I am having Thanksgiving dinner with the dude I’m dating and his entire family. They are from Boston. Do you know what this means? Yes, obnoxious Pats fans. (Edited to add: My friend Jason says I have a warped view of Pats fans and that they are not obnoxious. We shall see.)
So, we have me – hardcore Packers fan who yells in different languages at the TV, paces profusely and will only let ONE PERSON even text her during a game. Then we have his family, which is 20+ with Boston accents and who could care less what football games are on because they can’t see Brady’s pretty locks.
Did I mention they are serving lobster?
And that I am bringing a homemade pie?
And that I have gameday traditions which include 5 and a half push-ups and sporting my Packers jersey and lucky socks? And a certain Catholic prayer that I learned in Sunday School when I was 8 and that really makes no sense when it comes to football?
And that I have pink eye (which won’t be contagious tomorrow, thank goodness) so I’m wearing an eye patch and will look like Quasimoto in a Jordy jersey?
Ay Dios Mio. Just pour me in a vat of chowdah right now and I’ll wave the white flag.
So, tomorrow I’ll wake up, buy some flowers for his mom, make sure my pies are good to go and bring wine as a “Thank you for having me in your home for a holiday and I promise not to yell at your TV much” type deal. Southern etiquette has dictated my entire disposition when it comes to shindigs, parties and formal affairs, so might as well not change it right now. I’ll try to behave when my team is on and not be extremely moody if we lose.
Ah, who am I kidding?
Here are some of my quick tips if you are in a similar situation to mine:
- Let your hostess know that you’ll be watching the game: I can’t even lie. I called his mom to let her know that I would need to watch the Packers game if she wanted me at her house at a certain time. I have no shame, but she laughed and appreciated my candor and upfront. Think of it as my RSVP.
- Make sure that everyone has a drink before the game starts – that will keep them occupied so they don’t talk to you as much.
- Bring pie. Lots of it.
- Do all of your gameday traditions beforehand. However, the doctor dude has assured me that I can do my push-ups and his family will probably think it’s hilarious.
- If the Packers lose, grab two drinks for one hand and do a lap outside. Let your hostess know where you are going.