This morning was bliss. I flipped on Boston sports radio and spent my hour commute soaking up Patriot misery like mom’s shirtsleeve at Uncle Ray’s intervention. Though, not because I like the Giants.

See, I’m what's called an anti-fan. I don’t root for a team so much as I root against a team, and the team for which I reserve the entirety of my vitriol just lost a legacy-defining super bowl. Not only that but the Patriots, a team that once upon a time could do no wrong, now find themselves watching haplessly as their spiritual leader’s lady love pits them all against each other. It’s like Yoko Ono and John Lennon all over again. Except in this case, myself and everyone outside New England are loudly praying for the "band" to break up.