Disaster, and Ambivalence in the North

Few people in Sweden were thinking about Tom Brady's knee when they awoke this morning. In Lund, people packed umbrellas and went off to work and to class on a dreary morning that promised rain but actually gave way to a beautiful, late-summer afternoon. Down in Malmö, cars bottlenecked and sent up their plumes of frustrated exhaust. The pub in the train station, with its alleged Boston alliances, likely exposed itself yesterday evening when no one so much as batted an eye when the news came out of Foxborough.

To my credit, or whatever, I've been concerned all morning with mundane problems such as setting up my cell phone and tracking exchange rates in light of the government takeovers of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. Plus, I have to go buy more toilet paper because I accidentally knocked my last roll into the toilet. Six time zones West of here, though, a city that has had plenty of sports-related peaks and valleys has quickly become acquainted with the only direction one can go when one reaches the top.

The Patriots were my pick for an NFL version of the redeem team, lower-case letters. They were going to carry a chip on their shoulders all season after that Superbowl loss. Brady was going to throw 60 touchdowns, 40 of them to Randy Moss.

Now, Gene Wojciechowski over at ESPN has Brett Farve on record throwing around letters such as A, C and L down in Miami. News travels quickly, and though I haven't seen video of the hit on Brady, I can read in everyone's tone how bleak the situation appears. I can imagine fantasy leagues being turned completely upside-down. I even feel bad for Boston fans, hard as that can be sometimes.

The MRI results haven't yet been released this morning, but I'm joining everyone else who follows the NFL in speculation. Another 16-0 regular season? Running the table in the AFC East? If Brady misses this season, the Pats might not even make the playoffs. Whom does that leave for the big Superbowl shootout against Tony Romo, Farve? Ben Roethlisberger? In any case, not Philip Rivers.

But I'm getting way ahead of myself. The shock of Brady's injury and the simple excitement I feel for the start of the NFL season have replaced my ability to reason on this unseasonably warm afternoon in the south of Sweden. I have groups to meet with, projects to work on. At the same time, I will be refreshing the ESPN page frequently all afternoon long.