Patriot Fatigue is a national affliction.
Outside of New England, we’ve all become a bit nauseated at the sight of these guys in the Super Bowl year after monotonous year, a numbing, inevitable exercise that’s transformed America’s greatest sporting event into nothing more a quaint backyard game hosted by Bill Belichick and Tom Brady.
Since there is no known cure, the hardcore football faithful might want to mimic those who tune in Sunday for nothing more than the commercials and Justin Timberlake’s halftime show — and tune out before the end of the game, thereby avoiding any chance of coming down with another Patriots’ celebration.
At this point, it would probably be more appropriate to award the NFL champion a bronzed hoodie rather than the Vince Lombardi Trophy.
But true fans, please — if only for a moment — appreciate what is happening here.
This is undoubtedly the greatest dynasty in NFL history, a team that long ago raced past Lombardi’s Packers and Pittsburgh’s Steel Curtain and Montana’s 49ers. No one has come close to maintaining such a level of excellence for the better part of two decades, so it seems downright reasonable to proclaim, without a hint of hesitation, that we’ll never see their likes again.