Talk of the Tents

Nobody who showed at the tents on Super Bowl Sunday got anywhere NEAR the applause reverberating up and down the canyons surrounding Times Square last night, after the you-know-whos beat the YOU-KNOW-WHOS.

As the Tents emptied out after the Terexov show (Russian dude--did he even know what he was up against?), fashionistas and outta state journalists alike wandered toward Times Square, which was jam-packed w/ Giants-mania. Hundreds? Thousands? It was like New Year's Eve, with people hootin' and hollerin', leaping in the air, running in all directions--and without any Cloverfield monster in sight.

New York's finest were mounted on horseback (poop--everywhere) and cars trying to get down 7th Ave. crawled through the gauntlet in one lane, honking horns, folks sticking their hands out windows high-fiving the sports fans on the street.

This being New York, we do everything--even mob activity--with style. And so the t-shirt of the night had to have been the one seen on several male, uhhh, "models," one of whom stood in the middle of Broadway displaying for all the backed-up traffic to see, the simple message emblazoned across his tee.

Three words: F--- New England.

Not Fix.

Not Fax.

Fu...

geddaboudit.

--Joe Amodio