Book Him, Danno!!

As we find ourselves in the throws of Patriots playoff madness, I find it fitting to share.  One of my favorite stories.  Of all time.

Let’s go back to 1997, the year G and I got married.  This, however, will not be the story of how we got engaged.  Nor will it recall how the wedding plans unfolded.  It also won’t retell how we delayed our honeymoon due to a Monday Night Patriots game.  (Yes, you read that correctly.)  What you are about to read is how my husband, of 2 days, got PC’ed the night before our honeymoon at a Pats game.  Yep.  True.  Every single word to follow.

G and I got married on a Saturday and went to the Monday Night football game two days later.  (I'd have preferred to have already had two days of beach time under my belt, but the Kraft organization determined otherwise.  Not surprisingly, I won the Wife of The Year Award that year shortly thereafter.)   Anyway, in the end it worked out great.  The plan was that we would take a limo directly from the game to the airport and then, in the morning head out for some fun in the sun for a week. 

It was Pats vs. Jets. Or was it Green Bay?  Surely, he’ll clarify for me when he reads this. It really doesn’t matter to me who played the game.  I'm sure to G, it is very much an integral part of the telling.  Moving on.   We, along with his typical tailgate crew, had just parked our cars and were walking over to The Bus for the tailgate.  (“The Bus” may deserve its own blog at some point as well.)  Now, the details are a bit fuzzy but, the way I remember it, we needed to walk about a mile or so to the Bus' parking lot.  We had plenty of time and all was good.  How could it not be? Guy was heading in to a game with his best friends and his lovely new Bride, to be followed by a glorious week of Fun in the Sun. I was finally hitched (after what seemed, to me, much delay), to be followed by a glorious week of Fun in Sun.  What could go wrong?

As we walked along the street, we asked a cop who stood at a crosswalk if we could cross.  He said “no” and we kept walking.  No attitudes, no backtalk.  (Not so say that the guys didn’t want to give some to him, but honestly they didn’t.)  We eventually crossed the street and a few minutes later, we passed by the same cop again.  He yelled something completely snide and uncalled for – something to the effect of “are ya tired from that long walk guys?” I don’t remember exactly what he said but it was but it was obnoxious.  Truly.  Again, to the guys’ credit, there was nothing spoken back.  They were on a mission to see some football and drink some beer.  Word.

At some point, we ended up walking against pedestrian traffic and had to walk a bit out in to the street.  We were only yards away from The Bus so we kept on going.  Suddenly, our new best friend the cop, appeared and – you guessed it – started giving us lip.  As I remember it, G was the one furthest in the street.  And again, I have to give him and the rest of the guys credit (which I only do when absolutely necessary).  They just kept on walking.  At one point, Kev (I’ve decided not to put people’s full names in this blog but I miss him so much I speak his name whenever I can) said something to the cop in a way only he could.  He was a gentle and kind as can be, but clearly letting the guy know that he was being a complete jerk.  Even Kev's ways didn't work.  The next thing I know, the cop is screaming at G and only G.  Before we know what is happening, he was handcuffed and taken away in a little paddy wagon.  Happy Wedded Bliss. 

As he is being cuffed, I am yelling “But wait!!  We are going on our honeymoon tomorrow.  He can’t be arrested!!  Stop!  Stop!  Really?  This is really happening?!!?”  To no avail.

Some guys from The Bus heard/saw what was happening and tried to stop the ridiculousness but it didn’t work.  Off he went. In the paddy wagon.  Are you kidding me?!!?  The rest of us continued on to The Bus, where people didn't know whether to be annoyed at what happened or thoroughly entertained because it was G who was the subject of this madness.  If you had to choose someone, it should be him.  Not sure why, but it's definitely true. 

We had no idea where he was or when he'd be back.  (This was in the Olden Days before we had cell phones.)  Just as we were about to head in to the game, we suddenly see G running down the street, away from the police station, toward the bus.  I’m nearly positive that the Eye of the Tiger was being played along Route 1, but I’m not sure.  Maybe that’s my imagination…Anyway, he had a booking number written on  his hand, but other than that – he was no worse for wear.  Apparently, when they took him in, he explained what happened and I’m sure they understood how dumb it all was.  It was quite clear that he (thankfully and surprisingly) hadn’t had a bit to drink...yet.  Compared to all the other crazed fans, he was just a waste of their time!!  They let him go and off he went. 

The rest of the night was uneventful.  The Pats lost.  We left that night for our vacation and had a fantastic time.  Needless to say, while on our vacation, we re-told that story countless times.  And each time we told it, I was very sure to say that I was going on that honeymoon whether G was with me or not.  Drew Bledsoe was still playing for the Pats at the time. We'd have had a great time, #11 and I!