I have never seen the Houston Texans beat the New England Patriots. Granted they’ve only done it twice, but for both times I was unavoidably detained. The first time was the day my mother-in-law died, and the second, Sunday night, I was flying home after spending Thanksgiving, ironically, in Houston.
It’s more than a little vexing to completely miss what might be the Texans’ biggest win of the season against a team that they have historically, and sometimes hysterically, struggled against. But if it takes me being unable to watch for the Texans to beat the Patriots like a pack of rented mules, then I’ll have to take that hit.