I have a problem with Donald Trump and with the New England Patriots. I don't hate them. I have things I like. I have interests and issues and I vehemently support them and hate those things that are countrary or threats to them, just like everyone else does.

But Donald Trump is not a particular threat to those interests. I do not actively like him for much beyond his style, I did not vote for him, and you'd have to work pretty hard to contrive a scenario for which I would vote for him. Even when he comes out with something awesome that would have me picking up a gun and falling into the ranks if I thought for a second this was the cause that was sincerely on the line, I don't actually trust his commitment to the idea.

But that just makes him a person with different ideas from me and someone who is unconvincingly trying to obtain my vote. That doesn't make him a person worth hating, or jumping all over every little flaw or mistake or inventing malfeasance where none exists or twisting words to make him fit my model of a villain.

Regarding the New England Patriots, I am a NY Giants fan. Always have been. That's the extent of my NFL partisanship. I also like similar things. The Steelers are pretty much my AFC team, although I'll half-heartedly root for the Jets if I don't have a good reason not to, out of respect for several my associates. Regardless of what that says about them. To quote one of the greatest Star Trek works of all time "My compassion for someone is not limited to my estimate of their intelligence." Good reasons to root against the Jets include, playing the Giants, playing the Steelers, being in the playoffs when there is no chance of an all-Metlife Super Bowl, playing a team with at least one member toward whom I am sympathetic, having the temerity to have a single digit loss total, or getting their fans excited, so they start shouting out "J-E-T-S, Jets!" I know it's a big deal to Jets fans, but the rest of us take our ability to spell four-letter words for granted.

But people keep expecting me to hate the Patriots more than just about anything. I hate the Cowboys. I hate the Eagles. I hate the Redskins, almost as much as I hate people who insist they should change their name. When people refuse to name them and only refer to their city of allegiance, I simply refer to the nation's capital as "Redskintown". I hate the Packers while Sharon Rodgers is still a thing. I hate the Panthers while Cam Newton is still a thing. I hate the Saints. I hate the 49ers. I hate the Cardinals because they used to be in the East. I hate the Broncos because John Elway. I hate the Chiefs sometimes. I hate the Rams because Mark Ingram got hurt diving for a pass against them and instead of downing him with a touch, a Rams defender bodyslammed him to the turf and he missed the rest of the reason with a broken collarbone. And a year later, the Giants' season ended on the day of my 12th birthday party with a Jim Everett to Flipper Anderson touchdown pass in overtime. I used to hate the Chargers for effectively ending Mark Bavaro's career and then having Sproles and Brees and the announcers' constant attempts in the early 00s to play them up as one of the best teams in the league and then for taking advantage of our idiotic front office to get more than Philip Rivers in the trade for Eli Manning. I hate the Chiefs because Andy Reid is their coach. I hate the Ravens because Ray Lewis is hailed a moral leader and religious figure despite his involvment in a murder. Also Super Bowl 35 did not help. I used to like the Bengals, but don't since they became a dirty team. I hate the Colts because sixty-one years is still not enough time to forget something that happened long before I was born. There used to be a home movie of me opening a book on Christmas morning with a picture of Ameche's touchdown in OT, and happily telling my mother "That guy just died recently." Also, I got real sick of Peyton Manning, really fast. And never liked Jim Mora (see above, re: Saints) thought Tony Dungy was overrated. And hated Bill Polian because he worked for the Bills before that. I hate the Titans for not beating the Rams in that one Super Bowl and because they used to be the Oilers, another dirty team, although I liked Steve McNair. I hate the Bills because Marv Levy is a colossal hypocrite, who went around denouncing the no-huddle offense as unethical and against the rules until he began to use it. And his teams got way too much accolades and attention and praise, despite being little bitches who folded in the clutch.

So I can hate. Believe me, I can hate. But I generally need REASONS to hate someone or something, and success just is not one a reason that makes me hate someone. I don't start rooting for someone or something because they are winning (like Trump or the Patriots), but I don't hate them, either. And that means, when they are playing a team I have a reason to hate, I WILL root for the Patriots to win. Especially when their head coach was primarily responsible for the first two Super Bowl wins the Giants ever got, ending the 30 year NFL championship drought. I missed the first two decades of that one, but I now know for damn sure what a 30 year drought feels like. The Patriots don't even call themselves Boston, so there's that to like, too. And when their dynasty started knocking off the Rams, and continued by exposing Donovan McNabb's shortcomings in the two minute drill, yeah. I was glad for Bill Belicheck. Later on, he beat Pete Carroll in another Super Bowl, which is a good thing (Pete's not on the list above. He should be. Just because). SO the last few years, I just have not been able to get behind all this hatred for the team and envious spiteful desire to see them fail.

People keep saying to be all the time, "I thought you were a Giants' fan." And I say "I am. What did the Patriots ever do to us?"

A few months back, I was getting food at a kiosk in the mall, and the guy behind the counter said "Thas ushuly sis fitty. Buh for you, iss sisTEEN fitty." Then he indicated our hats. He was wearing a Patriots cap and I was wearing a Giants cap. So we had a laugh and he started going on about how it was almost the perfect season, up until the ending, and I replied I thought the ending was absolutely perfect and so on. Another time, he did the same routine, and the next customer, waiting for her food to cook turned out to also be a Patriots fan. Then the guy revealed that he grew up in some third world country (I want to say Honduras) where the only TV they got was pirated satellite broadcasts of a local New England affiliate, so he grew up rooting for their local sports teams. Then he came to America and is now a food vendor. He went on to confide that despite being a diehard Red Sox fan, he lives in the Bronx and his apartment window looks out on Yankee stadium. I shared with him my own hatred of the Yankees, and then I told him, my grandparents were from Brooklyn. His comPatriot immediately guessed that I was a Mets fan and started bristling, but I told them, No, my grandparents apostasized when the Mets came to town. My father kept the faith, and raised me in it. The eyes of the Boston (by way of Honduras) fan widened and he exclaimed, "Oh no! You're a Dah-yers fan!" At my nod, he declared that I understood what it means to be faithful and shook my hand.

The next time I went back to the mall, his kiosk was empty. I hope he enjoyed tonight.