I’m rabidly pro-New England in just about every way imaginable—Vermont’s cheddar is better than any from Wisconsin; our mountains are just as pretty as those anywhere else along the Appalachians; Boston is just as fun a city to visit as New York (there, I said it)—I’ve never been a Patriots fan. I love my home region, and I’ve lived in spitting distance of Gillette stadium for over six years now, but unlike my father, the team just never caught my attention.
(For what it’s worth, the Randall Cunningham led Eagles were the team that tackled my eleven-year-old mind. Specifically through the game Tecmo Super Bowl. But that’s another story.)
But for much of my young life I used to live in Hartford County. East Hartford, to be exact. Home of Rentschler Field. And I was one of many residents who were disappointed when the Patriots deal fell through and the stadium plan was reduced and brought to good ol’ EH. I don’t want to say that its poisoned me against the Pats—admittedly I have a sort of “Jekyll and Hyde” attitude towards them as they remain the team that used my home as leverage in a better deal, but they are the NFL team for this region, the team that my father follows and, frankly, one hell of a football club in the past decade.
But I wasn’t a Pats fan to begin with, right? So why should I care? Well, looking back, I never felt like Rentschler Field added much to our community, and I couldn’t help but imagine what a pro sports team might have brought to an embattled city like Hartford. It’s never been the biggest town or the nicest, but its my home and I want to see good things happen to it. I’m probably one of the biggest Colonials homers you’ll meet because their landing in Hartford feels like the fulfillment of a dream that got tossed by the wayside. I think about what it could mean for the city should the team (and the UFL) succeed on the long term: jobs, a boost to the economy, civic pride and identity. We lost that when the Pats left but we have a chance at it again.
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