This morning, the New England Patriots will host an “important announcement.” And, since Al Michaels can’t keep a secret, the world already knows that this occasion will be Tedy Bruschi announcing his retirement.

I know it’s a fact in the NFL – the players you love WILL retire at some point (unless they are named “Brett Favre,” in which case they retire, cry at a press conference, come back, retire, come back, ad nauseum). But that knowledge does not make it easier when one of our beloved hangs up his cleats.

As Patriots fans, we were truly blessed to have a player like Bruschi on our team for his entire career. And what a career it was. I have so many wonderful Bruschi memories, it’s hard to count. Playing with his kids on the field, his snow “fireworks,” stepping out onto the field at Fenway Park mere months after having a stroke…

Tedy, we’re going to miss you like crazy!

You know it’s almost football season when Dunkin Donuts unveils its Patriots-themed cups…

While moving my sister’s crap into her newly purchased house today (yay!), I had to razz her boyfriend’s brother, who is *gasp* a Buffalo Bills fan by proudly showing off my Dunkin Donuts Patriots cup.

Two weeks. Two looooooooooooong weeks.

We had a good time at the Red Sox game last night. The kid got a nice foam #1 finger, boyfriend’s mouth narrowly avoided writing a check his butt couldn’t cash (as in he almost got into a fight), and I got an up close and personal view of Papelbon and Varitek joking around in the bullpen. Big Papi’s walk-off home run was just that much sweeter considering I was exhausted and didn’t really want to sit there for extra innings.

Though it was a fun night, one tragic incident occurred… boyfriend, and don’t ask me how he did this, accidentally dropped my cellphone in his cup of beer. Dead. Gone. Crossed over to the big purse in the sky.

My cellphone had been with me since 2006 and I stubbornly refused to upgrade despite looking like Lameo Lamerson with a lame old phone every day. Tear. I’m now forced to upgrade and spend way more money than I have – and than a crappy piece of plastic is worth – to get a new phone.

I guess if one does have to die, at least my lame phone was able to do so in a cup of beer. That’s a pretty badass method of death.

*The photo above is one of the final images captured by my now deceased phone. Sniffle.

I just hacked up a lung and now I feel great! For the first time in over a week, I can breathe! Really breathe! Whatever was causing me to wheeze and choke for over a week was just hacked up and flushed down the toilet.

And with great timing, too, because tomorrow night we’re taking the kid to his first ever Red Sox game. That’s a rite of passage in deez parts and I’m glad I’ll actually be able to enjoy the night instead of wishing I was in bed.

Yay!

I have the cold that just will not die! I think it’s been more than ten years since I’ve had a cold that has kicked my ass like this. And it won’t go away, no matter how much OJ I drink, hours I sleep, NyQuil I chug… I’m still hacking up a lung and blowing my nose. Damn the person who spread these germs to me! Whoever you are! *waves fist*

On the bright side, football season is quickly approaching, as evidenced by my fantasy football league holding its draft today. And when I tell you I hate my team, I really hate my team. Both Tom Brady and Wes Welker were swept up right from under me! I ended up drafting *gasp* Phillip Rivers for my QB. At least if he sucks, thus making my team suck, I won’t care much. Worst case scenario, I drafted Baltimore’s Joe Flacco as my back-up.

I was able to draft Brandon Jacobs for running back (yay!) and at tight end I drafted Visanthe Shiancoe, who you might remember as the poor guy who was frontally nude on national television last season: