I have been a New England Patriot fan my entire life. I remember when I was just a little kid, and I used to watch the games with my father. It was his favorite thing in the world, watching the game with his boy, and it was my favorite thing as well. I was never very athletic, and my father was. He had hoped to have a star athlete son just like he was, and as I started to get older, it became more painstaklingly obvious that this was not the case. However, my old man loved me very much and was always a family man, and never made me feel weird or bad about it. We still had the Patriots. The New England Patriots will always be dear to me for this reason. They bonded me with my father. Together with the Patriots, we laughed, we cried, celebrated victory, and mourned defeat. Despite our differences in interests and even personality, we had our team to bond over. My father and I are so opposite that as we got older together, we never really had much to say. Once again, not to say that we did not get along, but we simply are very different. My father is all about physical work, mechanics and woodwork, a real mans man. I was more interested in mathematics and geography, or video games and comic books. Basically I was a nerd. Despite this, for my entire childhood, my father and I never missed a game. I remember my mom always making us awesome salsa and sandwiches when my dad started getting older. He used to always grill us burgers, but when I was about fifteen he was diagnosed with Parkinsons disease which slowed him down, and after a while he could no longer handle any of the equipment. My mom picked the sandwiches and salsa because she did not want to make him feel bad about not being able to cook burgers, so she just switched the menu. When my father passed away I will not lie it was one of the hardest things I ever had to face in my life. My mother was devastated (they had been married for twenty four years) and could not even leave her bed for quite a while, so I stayed and took care for her. After a few months when things settled, football season began. I really did not know how I was going to cope with it. The first Patriots game was coming up and it would be the first that I had not seen with my father in my entire life. It tore me apart. I tossed the idea back and forth between my head as to whether I would continue watching or not, but when the time finally came I decided I had to watch it. We won the first game and I wept, I felt like my father was there. The next year I got my season tickets, and I have still never missed a game. Every time I watch my Patriots I feel like my father is with me.