It’s mid-November and the New England Patriots have a robust record of 8-1. Tom Brady, Bill Belichick, and their jolly cocksure gang are marching steadily towards what many believe will be yet another Super Bowl appearance to close out the season. Another glittering opportunity for them to shine on the biggest of stages, to hoist The Vince Lombardi Trophy, to spray champagne menacingly yet playfully at each other in the locker room in goggle dripping ecstasy. A chance to print more Super Bowl Champion T-shirts and hats to advertise their teams supremacy in the NFL once again. I can already see the victory parade pumping through downtown Boston with some of the players dancing awkwardly to popular rap music on gaudy floats amidst the falling confetti and cheering masses. I’ve also just thrown up in my mouth. If the seemingly never-ending success of these guys doesn’t make you sick to your stomach, then you’re either A) not a football fan and therefore couldn’t care less, or B) you suffer from a far graver condition and you are in fact, “one of them”… A rabid representative of Patriot Nation, or whatever it is that gaggle calls itself these days. The only thing more disgusting than the Cheatriots winning ways is their smug, cheery, condescending fan base. Ever expecting to win and ever prepared to rub the noses of the fans of other teams in their golden shimmering, chowda-crusted feces. It’s prudent to mention that I’m a New York Jets fan. No, I’m not the least bit bitter. Why would I be? Heck, the Jets DID win a Super Bowl, which is more than can be said of the Bengals, Bills, Browns, Cardinals, Chargers, Falcons, Jaguars, Lions, Panthers, Texans, Titans and Vikings. Why should it matter that Gang Green’s Super Bowl III victory was more than 50 years ago, almost 8 years before I was even born? I’m foolishly optimistic that the New York Jets will win “the big game” sometime before I die. It’ll probably be around the same time that I get struck by lightning while fending off a shark attack with one hand and waving a winning lottery ticket in the other, to be saved by grace at the last possible moment by a flying green and white unicorn. Stranger things have happened. Such as Bill Belichick signing a deal to become the Jets head coach back on January 3, 2000 only to wake up the next day to change his mind and resign from the position and head over to New England. That served as portent of doom for unpleasant events that are still playing out to this day. The Jets had 4 first round draft picks in 2000 and made some solid selections, however they drafted a total of 7 players ahead of Tom Brady, who eventually fell to the Patriots at #199. Fast forward to the second game of the 2001 season where the two teams squared off in Foxboro. Our linebacker, Mo Lewis #57, smashed the Patriot’s starting QB Drew Bledsoe square in the chest and put him out of the game. Bledsoe wound up suffering a sheared blood vessel in his chest and he almost died from it. In waddles his skinny replacement, Thomas Edward Patrick Brady, Jr. The Jets held on to win that game, but they didn’t do a whole lot of winning once Brady was at the helm. He led the Patriots to the playoffs that season and starting winning Super Bowls the season after that. The rest is history (yet still agonizingly ongoing). Make no mistake, I recognize that Tom Brady is the best quarterback ever to play the position. There is no doubt that he’s the best QB in the history of the NFL, but I believe I can safely say that most of the pigskin world is beyond fed up with the Patriots winning ways and their arrogant fan base. It would be amazing if Brady would retire at the top of his game and then he and Giselle and the family can move down here to Costa Rica to live in their property full-time. Trade in the physical punishment and the endless demand for new trophy cases for sunshine, surf, tropical drinks, and Pura Vida. Whaddya say, Tom? It sounds tempting, doesn’t it? Their property here in paradise is about a 30-minute drive from our place on Playa Tambor. Awhile back, Giselle was apparently eating dinner at a Montezuma restaurant next to the one my wife and I were dining in, and Tom yank-jumped his daughter off the very same cliff that I tossed my daughter from at Montezuma Falls. It is indeed a small world. Meanwhile, closer to home and only a few sandy footsteps down the beach access road from our house, we’ve got some Patriot/ Red Sox Nation neighbors who are also real estate clients of mine. Now we’re getting to the guts of this article. These fine folks have what my wife and I consider to be the absolute best real estate deal available in the current market. This amazing piece of titled beachfront property is a steal for $599,000 USD and we’re truly shocked that it’s still available. If we had the funds, we’d buy it for ourselves. I’ve speculated that we haven’t sold the property yet because of the New England Patriots flags and banners strewn all about the house. Something that offensive can certainly have a negative effect on potential buyers. After all, it’s only 1 team out of a possible 32 NFL squads who have a fan base. Without considering population density and detailed demographic data regarding each team’s actual fan base, that’s giving these sellers slightly better than a 3% chance that their showing is with someone from the “home team”, thereby isolating roughly 97% of the remaining buyer pool. You also have to factor in that there’s also a huge portion of the population that doesn’t care about sports at all, or have a reactant loathing for anything sports related. Yet banners and flags can be taken down. Perhaps our near misses have more to do with the massive Boston Red Sox logo they have glazed on the thick, tempered glass door that leads to the Roman Senate-sized swimming pool they have behind the house. As you may have guessed by now, I’m also a New York Yankees fan. The swimming pool is spectacular and shaped like a Shamrock, so the owners get points from this stout Irishman on that, but to have to see all of this Red Sox and Patriots sports memorabilia every time I walk through the house with clients is a bit much. This is what really had me thinking about football. In my mind’s eye I can picture these lovely neighbors of ours (they are truly wonderful people) celebrating another NE Super Bowl victory in front of me at the local bar this coming February, and enough is enough. My proposition is this: Anyone who employs me as an agent to acquire my neighbors’ property and closes before February 2nd, 2020 will be given $5,000 in cash from my commission. All I ask in exchange is to be given the tempered glass Beantown portal so I can smash it to smithereens with a sledgehammer. The $5,000 will more than pay for a new, more tasteful, glass replacement door for the new owner and it’s money well spent for me. With this limited time offer, I’m making the sweetest deal on the Tambor market even sweeter. Join me in PuraVidaVille! You can see the amazing property I’m referencing by clicking on this link:
