Everyone wants to win The Game
By Fran Thomas, a Leominster resident
and free lance writer, works in the 
Fitchburg public school system.

Starting early Wednesday evening, and well on into the
night Thanksgiving eve, local watering holes like
Slattery's, Legends, Christopher's Pub, and The wine cellar,
to name just a few, will be overflowing with people, beer
and conversation.

Some of the faces will be familiar.  In fact, it will appear
as if some haven't left their seats since last year.  For
others, it will be a time to renew acquaintances, as they
are home for the holiday break, whether traveling from
college or just to sample some of mom's cooking.

In time, the conversation in such places will turn, as it
has for over 100 years, to The Game.

Given that both Fitchburg and Leominster will earn Division
1 Super bowl berths regardless of the results Thursday
morning, some well-meaning soul will inevitably offer that
win or lose, their team has had a successful season.  A super
season, in fact.

Don't get me wrong, this person will say.  I still want us
to win.  But if we don't, well, we'll still have had a great
season, with a super Bowl game yet to play.

Now, such a position is imminently logical and more than
reasonable, and given that many patrons that night are
likely to be somewhat recent arrivals to the Twin Cities,
such sentiments may be greeted with nods of agreement.

But trust me, somewhere in these establishments, will sit
hard, proud men, warriors from Thanksgiving games past.
They, too, will be enjoying the camaraderie of the night,
but deep inside such men a voice will silently roar in
savage disagreement.  Because in reality, truth is in the
eye of the beholder.  And while to many eyes, a 10-1 or 8-2
record (Fitchburg is currently 10-0, Leominster 8-1) is
indeed symbolic of success, there is a different, deeper
truth for other sets of eyes.

Late Wednesday night, such eyes -- and they are numerous --
are very likely to be bloodshot, and desperately in need of a
designated driver.  But come Thursday morning, those eyes
will be watching with an intensity that mactches the emotion
displayed on the field, watching with fierce, stubborn,
unyielding pride born of a rivalry that has burned as
brightly as a star for more than a century.

That is both the blessing and the curse.  This is pure,
unadulterated, athletic Armageddon.  When they say you can
throw the records out for this one, they are right in more
ways than one, because even though a super Bowl victory may
ensue, a loss on Thursday morning either diminishes or
enhances everything that has come before and everything that
will come after.

In some ways, that may not be fair, but that makes it no
less true. It's just the way it is.  And if you look closely
at the eyes of the men who ring the field, usually passing
up seats because they can't sit still or hear that quiver of
emotion in their voices as they cheer, you'll understand
that this is the way it will always be.

Always.




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