I hate the New England Patriots.
I don't mean that I find them distasteful, or that I'd rather they weren't successful, or that I root for other teams to beat them (although all those things are true). I mean that I hate them.
I hate their ability to seemingly pull the damnedest rabbit out of a hat you didn't even know they had at the worst possible moment. I hate Bill Belichick, who seems to work very, very hard at being a prickly, amoral, unsmiling, perpetually underdressed villain -- who cheats. I hate every player they've ever had who was cast off by some other team for having a bad case of suckitude but suddenly becomes an All-Pro the second he sets foot in Foxborough, Massachusetts. (Come to think of it, I hate that they play in a soulless monument to corporate greed, in a suburb in the middle of nowhere that's closer to the capital of Rhode Island than it is to the capital of Massachusetts.) I hate Julian Edelman, who once punched a friend of a friend in the face at a party. I hate their fanbase, who seem to expect that championships are their birthright, not just from the Patriots but from all of their teams (and, over the last ten years, that entitlement has been sickeningly well rewarded), who have a superiority complex about every other fanbase in the world, and who made going to Game 3 of the 2007 World Series one of the worst experiences of my life.
I hate Michigan Fucking Wolverine Tom Fucking Brady and his fucking shit-eating grin and his fucking hair and his fucking temper tantrums directed at his teammates and his fucking modeling deals and the fucking fact that he left his pregnant girlfriend so he could go out with a Victoria's Secret model and that he's one of the best fucking quarterbacks in the history of professional football.
But what I hate most of all about the Patriots is that I don't really have a good reason for hating them.
