Drew Bledsoe and his Hall of Fame Return to Foxboro

Is Drew Bledsoe Hall of Fame material?  Does Akron need the gunslinger from Walla Walla, Washington?  He passed for over 44,000 yards, including three 4,000 yard passing seasons and his similar players on Pro Football Reference includes Bart Starr and Kenny Stabler.  But he also had three seasons where his interception total exceeded his touchdown total.  And in New England, he was seen as an underperforming stud quarterback who could never get the Patriots the Lombardi Trophy until Tom Brady was the starting Quarterback.  Whether he gets the call from Roger Goodell this year or not, Bledsoe has been bestowed the honor from Robert Kraft and the Patriots Hall of Fame this year.  Drew Bledsoe was one of my favorite players and with the opportunity to see Scott Zolak in action - well this was cause for a family roadtrip back down to Patriot Place.

5pm.  Foxboro, MA.  The four of us arrive early (LC decides to join us later that evening), not so much to get a good parking spot (we didn't) or to see Lion King 3D (No one wanted to).  We just wanted to go through Hall of Fame, maybe toss the football around for a while and generally enjoy a celebratory atmosphere.  The New England Patriots home opener was happening tomorrow and a palpable buzz was in the air.

After catching some confetti and kicking some field goals at the Hall of Fame - and after unsuccessfully trying to buy the lego set for the Patriots helmet in the lobby of the Hall of Fame - we join a thousand others in the concourse for the ceremony.  Bledsoe is joined in the Hall of Fame by Jon Morris, a Center for the Patriots in the 1960's and 1970's.  A very nice gentleman who stirred the crowd by declaring this ceremony as the Crowning Achievement of his Football Life; unfortunately, none of us were there to see Jon Morris.  Both boys - who mind you were not alive the last time Bledsoe was in New England - started grumbling about all of the "old guys."  I have to admit, I was more interested in Bledsoe myself.  At least Morris recognized this as well.  "I'll start wrapping things up as most of you came here to hear the next guy."

"Yeah, no kidding" some guy next to me whispers to his girlfriend.  Tough crowd. 

But not to be deterred, the induction speech was followed by a round table with Morris' old teammates from the old Boston Patriots.  I think Gino was there and a couple of other guys I didn't recognize.

I didn't have much time to find out who they were either, since the kids started to wrestle with one another and DLG started to get really tired (and when I say tired, I mean she started crying).  So we climb the stairs up to CBS Scene to watch the ceremony on the big screen.  Finally, Bledsoe comes out to talk.  The memories start flooding back.  The nightclub incident with Max Lane, the Super Bowl, the Jets' hit, the AFC Championship game in 2002.  It was all there.  And I find it ironic, after Bill Belichick's discussion with Wes Welker about Wally Pipp in A Football Life, that Drew Bledsoe was the true Wally Pipp.  And on behalf of Patriots Fans everywhere, thanks Mr. Pipp.

Bledsoe goes on to talk about the little dude, Troy Brown and Scott Zolak.  He thanks his offensive line for all of their hard work.  And he goes on to thank Bob and Myra Kraft.  His Mom and famous Dad in the 10 gallon hat seemed proud of his son's accomplishments.  And we were too.  Hey, so what if he underperformed in his nine years here, his last game for the Patriots was a Super Bowl win. 

Midway through his speech, G asks me an interesting question.  "Is Drew Bledsoe the best Quarterback ever?"  He was wondering why he was going to the Hall of Fame and Tom Brady wasn't.

"No, stupidhead. Tom Brady is." C responds not giving me a chance to answer.

And so we see Drew Bledsoe's true legacy in New England.

Reversal of Fortune, Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs and the IFOCE - Qualifying Round

One of the most cherished traditions in the JMR household does not fall on Christmas, Thanksgiving or Easter.  It doesn't involve singing songs or going somewhere special.  In fact, all our most cherished tradition involves is some hot dogs and a TV (HD not preferred).  You see, every Fourth of July, our attention turns to Coney Island and a little contest that Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs holds every year - the annual Hot Dog Eating Contest sponsored by Major League Eating and the International Federation of Competitive Eating.  Competitive eating enthralls me.  Ever since I saw that contest on TV several years ago, I always looked forward to the 4th of July.  Not for days at the beach, fireworks or parades, but for Crazy Legs Conti and Joey Chestnut.  For the 40 year old, 115 pound woman who is one of the best competitive eaters in the world.  But can I pass this tradition on to my children?

Foxboro, MA.  1pm.  Fortunately for us (I'd like to think), one of the qualifying rounds for the Nathan's Famous  challenge was held at Patriot Place.  The grand prize was a seat at the Coney Island World Championship.  I managed to talk G in to going with me.  I told him about the possibility of eating a ton of hot dogs for free.  He immediately agreed to accompany his old man.  No one else wanted to be disgusted quite like us.  Their loss.

Hey is that the Skeevy Guy from Suffolk Downs?

When we arrive, all we can smell is raw meat and cologne.  The challenge was taking place in the end zone concourse, right next door to the Patriots Hall of Fame.   I saw that entertainment was going to be provided by My Blue Heaven and by bouncy houses and basketball hoops.  A wonderland to my 6 year old; I hope he wants to see the contest, despite the stench of raw meat.  And it wouldn't be an event at Gillette unless the Patriots Cheerleaders and Pat the Patriot were there.

But I was there to see some gluttony and the excitement was building.  Maybe some reversal of fortune and maybe some new blood that will be able to take on Takeru Kobayashi, Eater X and Joey Chestnut in a couple of months.  Things started slowly, however, as it became apparent that the nice weather - or fear of a guy named Pretty Boy -  drove off some of the competitors.  A kind of casting call was put out into the crowd looking for a couple of guys and a couple of women to compete.  Judging by the crowd, it didn't seem like there would be a problem finding some guys able to throw some hot dogs down, maybe even the next Eater X (I love that name!)

The emcee for the afternoon, some guy named Dave Keating, was shouting at us hoping that us 400 spectators could scream like four thousand.  Unfortunately, the sound guy (that is the band's sound guy who wasn't happy to be taking on double duties) wouldn't cooperate as the sound shorted out at least five times during the event as the Band was finishing up.  No matter, Keating was calling up lawyers, truckers and some obese sweaty guys to the podium to pulse pounding music.  Finally, to Eminem "8 Mile," in what seems like an ongoing gimmick, we are told that Competitive eating is akin to God battling Lucifer for humans' souls and only competitive eating could decide the battle.  Nice touch considering it was Rapture Day.  5 judges were called up from the crowd to make sure no one has any reversals of fortune as that is a call for automatic disqualification.  The Patriots Cheerleaders were present to hold up "number of hot dogs eaten" signs.

Boston's own Pete Davekos, who goes by the ironic nickname of Pretty Boy (honestly all of these competitive eaters seem to have ridiculous nicknames) now steps up to the podium.  Keating is introducing him like he's about to go into the ring with Mike Tyson.  He's the 15th ranked international competitive eater and the reigning spinach eating champ.  G is disgusted.

"Why is he proud of eating some much spinach, that's gross, Dad!"  Not as gross as what we're about to watch, son.  Not even close.

Yeah, this was was pretty disturbing.

The four horsemen of the esophagus.  I'm ready.  G's ready.  The timer clicks down 3, 2, 1 and the race to indigestion begins.  I'm impressed with the Pretty Boy.  He's definitely got the technique down as he engulfs two hot dogs and then dunks the bread in his coffee (I guess that what was in his Box of Joe from Dunkin' Donuts; please don't tell me its an endorsement) and downs those separately.  The five civilian judges and the Cheerleaders look horrified as bread, pieces of meat and water start flying around and off the table.  How do I know this is all happening?  We can walk literally right in front of them.  We begin to walk closer and closer to the table to get a view, but I step back when I'm warned by Keating that we chose to be this close to the competition.  I forgot to bring my slicker. I also notice that the women competitors are consuming hot dogs very slowly.  One of the women called up, obviously the girlfriend of the drummer, can barely get one down.

"Dad, I could totally beat her!"  My 6 year old says to me.  Despite the fact that he would be disqualified for not eating any of the buns, maybe.  I just feel bad for the girl's drummer boyfriend.  Who would want to be dating/married to woman who was a competitive eater?  That's just really, really nasty.  He must be really psyched right now as I see him scanning the crowd for a hook up after his girlfriend goes into a food coma - hey buddy the cheerleaders are right over there!

3 minutes left.  The 10 minute competition is more than half way through and I'm fascinated by the sheer forces of will its taken to keep these hot dogs down.  Pretty Boy is clearly in the lead.  A skinny guy from Somerville seems to be in second, although with all the hot dogs and buns smeared around, I have no idea how many have been eaten. A couple of minutes later, my son starts to lose interest (Thank God) and moves back over to the basketball shooting game.  I start to drift over with him as it becomes a foregone conclusion that the Pretty Boy is going to win, and win handily.  I'm not sure who is going to qualify on the women's side, although whoever does wont have a chance against Sonya Thomas.

The final buzzer mercifully rings.  As expected, Pretty Boy is crowned qualifying round champion and has stamped his ticket to Coney Island.  Fortunately, they had way too many hot dogs for the competitors and started giving them away to the spectators.  I think that's disgusting, but I went over to G who was now playing a pitching baseball game to see if he wanted a hot dog.

"No thanks Dad.  I'm not hungry anymore."

No kidding, neither am I.  But you know where we'll be on July 4.

Canton-Lite: The Hall at Patriot Place

A friend recently suggested that we rent an RV and take a road trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.  My wife was horrified at the thought of riding in an RV.  I was horrified that my kids might treat an excursion to Cooperstown like I did all those years ago - flying through the exhibits so quickly that we drove back four hours later that afternoon.  The kids were horrified of spending three days with their parents.  At least we were all consistent.

Regardless, when it is suggested that we treat the kids to something new, we always try them out on a much smaller scale.  Baseball at Fenway?  Let's go see the Pawsox.  The Patriots?  Let's take them to a preseason game.  Dinner out at a nice restaurant?  Let's take them to Burger King.  Halls of Fame are no exception.  Before we drop hundreds of dollars triaveling to New York without knowing what kind of reception we would get to staring at busts and watching videos, we decided to bring them to Foxborough and try the New England Patriots Hall of Fame (sponsored by Raytheon - can't forget that).  We figured for $50 we can test their Hall of Fame mettle.  All those years ago, I know what it's like to have an attention span of three minutes when watching and reading about history.  I think the hstory of ice cream, the beach and chocalate milk would be boring to them without interactivity.  "Hey guys," I start, "You know you can play football here like a real game."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."  (Crossing my fingers since that's what I remember from someone's description when it open a couple of years ago).

2pm.  Forborough, MA.  After eating lunch at the CBSScene, we slowly trudged down the stairs to the Hall of Fame entrance.  Walking right through the Pro Shop on the way in AND the way out?  Nice; I get two opportunities to fend the children off from Patriots helmets, jerseys, gloves and playing cards.

After talking all three kids from Patriots winter hats, we finally get to the top floor where the experience begins.  The kids love the interactive math game while trying to score a touchdown.  I tried to throw it so my four year old daughter (DLG) would win, but I got distracted and my six year old ended up winning.  Damn it!

Unbelievably, the kids also enjoyed looking at the old time football memorabilia from the early days of the NFL and College Football.  The movie about the history of the Patriots, that we saw on the way down to the second floor, also was an emotional experience for the family - well just me, I suppose.  "I don't like the guns!" my six year old exclaimed, still scarred from the preseason game last year when he was startled by the muskets being fired after the Patriots scored a touchdown.  "Just keep watching, buddy!"  The Third Floor also featured a lot of Boston Patriot history from the AFL.

As I survey the layout of the second floor, I can already tell that the kids will like this floor.  The Super Bowl Trophies, the "kick a field goal screen" and the duck boat.  We pass by a display of the hall of famers, including a newly inducted Sam "Bam" Cunningham, and a display of the footballs from the Patriots 21 game winning streak (yawn).  I'm tempted to kick a field goal after watching a couple of replays from the Snow Bowl.  But I'm beckoned to help as the kids scatter in the next room.  One wants to jump as high as they can with Laurence Maroney (and yes MM has a 24 inch vertical leap).  DLG wants to be weighed next to Vince Wilfork. And my eight year old wants to test his reaction time hitting Tedi Bruschi from a three point stance (I bet there are Dolphin fans whow would love this exhibit).  My six year old tried the same exhibit and if Dan Koppen says "Oh, you jumped offside, please try again" one more time, me and the Patriots personnel guy trying to help him might bang our heads against Tedy's chest.

Then the highlight for the kids came up.  I first thought that they were psyched to see the three Super Bowl Trophies.  It didn't take long to figure out exactly what got them excited - trying to catch ticker tape flying out of the wall every time the Patriots won the Super Bowl on the screen above.  All three of them stuffed red and blue pieces of paper into their pockets from catching them out fo the air.

"I'm going to throw these up in my room every time I wake up." My six year old excitedly tells me.

"Uh, no you're not..." I gently explain. "and if you do, you're going to pick them all up off the floor."

But that's ok.  They had a great time.  As we walked throught he turnstile into the Pro Shop, they wanted to go through again and catch the ticker tape and play the football math game.  This afternoon served two purposes, really.  I know that they're ready for Cooperstown, but more importantly, they're ready to try to beat me in the 2010 JMR NFL Picks.  I suggest you bring your kids to this Hall of Fame.

"Hey Dad!!  When can we play football here?" My six year old asks.

Shoot!  Except you don't play real football in here.