The game: Patriots at Jets
The beer: Ommegang All Hallows Treat Imperial Chocolate Peanut Butter Stout
The result: Win, 22–17
The method: Live via CBS
The headline: “I like to act the part of being tough.” – Yo La Tengo, “Sugarcube”

The commentary: Sometimes the universe just wants blog-makers to quote a particular goddamn song ahead of their beer and/or football discussions. “I’ll try to be less uptight, I’ll try to be more aware”? No, that doesn’t apply this week either. But when you drive to Portsmouth to attend a craft fair hosted at the Press Room and park yourself at the bar while your wife and daughter browse upstairs? And the bartender has the deluxe edition of I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One playing on repeat? And Mac Jones is completing twenty-four passes for under two hundred yards? And the otherwise nice man sitting next to you is raving about the Pats’ “excellent” defense? I nearly bit off my tongue! So no amount of stubbornness can resist—it wasn’t the best album of 1997 for nothing.

Patriots Unfiltered pulled no punches this week in their criticism of the coach and his handling of the quarterback(s)—they never do, and it’s why it’s the only resource I trust, though I’d listen to anything involving the virile Fred Kirsch. Paul Perillo, of whom I’m also a huge fan despite his occasional forays into white-male-victim politics, summed it up nicely after Belichick waffled his way through Wednesday’s press conference: “So this nonsense continues.” Even nerdy new colleague Evan Lazar brought the heat during a rare moment when I didn’t tune him out: “[Jones] is gonna have to answer questions about who’s playing in the game and what the situation’s gonna be… it’s just unnecessary.” Bravo. Was that in the all-twenty-two?

Mike Florio, professional skimmer of teams’ beat writers, chimed in with a perfect Pro Football Talk headline: “Mac Jones starts; will Bailey Zappe finish?” A semicolon! What a douche—an on-point douche, perhaps, had Jones stunk up the joint. Unfortunately the question posed in the separated clause will nag us the rest of the way unless Jones snaps out of his season-long funk or, you know, goes down with another injury. If only his name were Mac Zones.

Back to the guy at the bar. The poor bastard’s wife canceled cable without telling him, which is why he was in position to listen to me mutter at the Press Room’s television. “I didn’t know what else to do,” he mused. I told him about NFL+ and Paramount+ but didn’t put my heart into it the way I had to with my own cord-cutter reckoning. “Just keep coming here,” I said. Dark beer and Yo La Tengo solve all problems, even those you create for yourself.

Up next: The local paper covers the Colts like they’re the 2007 Patriots for some reason. Happy Halloween!