Transcript: "Karen Vs. the Patriots", a Story By Matthew Dicks

This is a transcript of Matthew Dicks's story, Karen Vs. the Patriots, at a Boston Moth GrandSLAM. You can watch Matthew telling the story here:

I tell my friend Benji that Karen likes me, and he laughs at me. It's 3 o'clock in the morning. We're in the kitchen cleaning, the party's cleared out, and in the living room, there are the last remnants of the party. There's a huddled faithful under the glow of a black-and-white TV set atop a baby changing table. They're watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail for the 1,000th time on VHS. I would normally be there, but I'm in the kitchen cleaning because we're going to a Patriots game tomorrow morning. We want to get a head start, and I love the Patriots. I have loved them all my life. When I was a little boy, I used to tape a football with duct tape to my foot and go out trick-or-treating as the placekicker, Tony Franklin.

When the Patriots lost to the Bears in the Super Bowl in '86, I wept for days. I was in math class, just tears streaming down my eyes. I once dated a girl only because she once lived on the same street as Steve Grogan, the Patriots quarterback legend. So I love these guys, and I want to get to the game tomorrow. 

I should be cleaning, but I'm not, because Benji is laughing at me. I know why he's laughing. There is no way Karen could like me. I am, in the words of one of my friends, a necklace stump with legs and arms, and Karen is the most beautiful girl who walks into every room. She's not a girl I would chase. In fact, no guy chases Karen. Karen is like a bug light. She sucks you in, and when you get close, she stabs you in the heart until you're dead.

But at the party tonight, every time I turned, Karen was there. She was sort of laughing at the things I was saying and touching my arm. I think, like, maybe she likes me, but I know Benji’s right, and it's impossible. Two days later, the phone rings. It's Karen. She asks when the next party is. I tell her Saturday, and she says the four most beautiful words I have ever heard: "That's not soon enough."

So I say, "How about Thursday? A movie and pizza at my place?" She says yes. And so it's Thursday, and we're on the couch, watching the movie. Except we're not watching the movie anymore. We're making out on the couch. I am making out with Karen. It's the only time in my life I've had this out of body experience at a moment when I should absolutely be in my body. I flow above my body and look down at us. I turn to an audience that is not there and say, "Do you see what is happening here right now? I am kissing Karen like the impossible is possible."

At the end of the night, Karen says, "When can we see each other again?" I say, "Saturday at the party." She says, "I can't. I have a family thing." And she says, "How about Sunday?" I say, "I'm going to the Patriots game, but I'm more than willing to ditch Benji and take you instead." She says, "Great! I've never been to a football game." And I think, this is fantastic.

Then Sunday comes, and I realize this is not going to be fantastic. It is five degrees with the wind chill. When she shows up to my house, she is not dressed properly. She's got a pair of jeans on and those thigh-high boots that look great but do nothing to keep your feet warm. She's got a jacket on—like, just the word "jacket" is not enough. I have taken my entire wardrobe and transferred it to my body. I am the Michelin Man. I have everything I own on me.

I say, "Karen, you can't go to the football game. You will die." She says, "I'll be fine." And I can't say no to Karen, so we go to the football game. And it is bad. It's cold. It's old Foxboro Stadium. It is made up of metal benches and Soviet architecture and despair. Nothing good happens in that stadium, and nothing good is happening today because Karen is freezing. We're approaching halftime, and Karen turns to me and says, "Thank God it's almost over." She doesn't know there's another whole half of football to go. So I tell her, and she says, "Man, I can't make it." I agree with her. She may die if she stays here, but on the other hand, I'm thinking, "I told you, woman. I said this was not going to be right. This is on you, it's not on me."

Now I have a decision to make: I either stay in this stadium and watch the worst football team of the season, a 2-14 football team, or I leave with the most beautiful girl in every room. So I choose love. I hand Karen my keys and tell her she has to go wait in the car because these guys need me. And it's a terrible game. They lose 6 to nothing in the worst football game I have ever seen in my life.

When I go back to the parking lot, my car is probably not going to be there, but I was there for them. When I get to the spot where my car is supposed to be, I can't believe it. It's there, and it's running and warm. I get into the car and tell Karen, "Bad news, we lost." She doesn't say anything to me. For the rest of my life, I bring her home, and I never see her again.

There are moments when I question my decision in Foxboro Stadium that day, when I think about that woman who I sent back to the car. But I also knew that day that those guys on the field— as terrible as they were in 1992— were always going to be there for me, and Karen was not going to be the girl I was going to marry. I knew that day that those guys would be there for the rest of my life, and that is what they've been. Whether they were terrible or they were great, they have been there for me, and I have loved them. They have been everything to me on days when I’ve been there for them, and they have been there for me through better and through worse. And that, my friends, is what true love is all about.

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