Why a New England Girl is Rooting for the Giants

The title of the post has already alienated me from my Mom, boyfriend, a few colleagues and of course, most of New England.

But I don't care.

No–I'm rooting for the Giants. The David of this year's Super Bowl.

Sure there are lots of reasons I should hope that the Patriots should win:

1. I'm from Connecticut
2. Tom Brady is cuter than Eli Manning (although I'm not entirely convinced of this)
3. That whole 17 and 0 thing they've got going
4. Tons of other reasons that any New England fan will happily fill you in on if asked or even if you don't ask or just happen to walk by them, most likely they will be talking/ranting/raving about how the Patriots are going to kill the Giants in two weeks.

But I've got one good reason that's enough for me to root for the Giants:
They're the underdogs.

I love underdogs, which explains my love for the Red Sox for so many years (and why I'm sporting a Mets cap during baseball season, although I'm still a Sox fan at heart despite winning two World Series).

And everyone expects the Giants to be crushed, slaughtered- sort of a sacrificial offering to the Super Bowl gods on behalf of the Patriots to start a legacy- but I'm not interested in that.

I'd like to watch the Super Bowl and not have to wait for the next great Doritos commercial because we already know who's going to win.

No, I'd like to see the Giants take on their Goliath (no pun intended) and surprise everyone, but most of all Mr. Football himself, Mr. Tom-I-date-and-impregnate-hot-women-and-think-I'm-amazing-despite-throwing-
three-interceptions-against-San-Diego-Brady, and serve up their own lamb for sacrifice.