Good old Ben would appreciate the Super Bowl but between being born in Boston and living in Philly where the NY Giant's enemy the Eagles hail from I fear Ben would be cheering for the New England Patriots today. I will forgive him though because he is a Founding Father and formed the first public lending library.
But I wonder what beer would Ben drink today? I bet not Samuel Adams!!!
I'm partaking in some Killans Irish Red. What about you?
And here is one last excerpt from Playing For Keeps my football meets romance romp!
The bell dinged and the doors slid open. Trudging down the hall, bleary eyed from the events of the day and lack of sleep, he felt like a zombie in some B movie.
“Terell, why the hell aren’t you in your room?”
Ryan cringed at his coach’s gruff voice, wondering if anyone on the floor would wake up. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said in a near whisper.
“Can’t sleep when you’re messing around with some bimbo.” Coach Werner lowered his voice slightly.
A former NFL player, his coach packed on the pounds when his career was over. His face weathered from the countless days in the sun and the biting winds of winter. After three seasons as head coach of the Cougars, his once jet black hair grayed to a stainless steel finish.
Ryan took in his coach’s rumpled sweat-suit and half finished Yoo-Hoo. No doubt he was taking a break from reviewing game films, even though it was two in the morning. His coach was a heart attack waiting to happen.Ryan hoped he fared better in retirement.